Let's Just Be Honest...

I struggle with my weight. Big surprise, right? Honestly what girl on this planet doesn't anymore? We're all either too fat or too skinny or too muscular. I recently did Lysa TerKeurst's Made to Crave bible study with some ladies at church. It was quite good and for some crazy reason that can only be God, I've decided to open up and let it all spill out. (Lord help me!)

I'm sure many of you reading this are thinking one of two things: "My dear you are by no means 'fat'." or "Well she could stand to lose a few pounds, but she's not so bad as she is really." If you are quite convinced that I am in fact obese, then please discontinue reading. Frankly, discontinue being my friend as well. For if anyone thinks I am in a state of pure obesity and doesn't care enough to bring it to my attention in a loving manner, then they are by no means my friend. No one needs friends like that. Anyway here's what it boils down to: as so eloquently stated by Lysa "This wasn't really about the scale or what clothing size I was; it was about this battle that raged in my heart."

While I would love to be a microscopic little thing that could get away without wearing a bra sometimes, that will never happen. Let's face it. I'm one of those curvy chicks that are finally receiving some recognition for their beauty lately. I have never been a size 2. I will never be a size 2. If I am ever a size 2, I will look deathly. That's not the issue. The issue is that when I look in a mirror at myself everyday, I am (dare I say) unequivocally unhappy with the reflection that stares back at me. Granted, I have good days like every other woman on the planet. But the majority of the time, I am disgusted. Because when I look in the mirror I don't see a few love handles and sexy curves and good birthing hips. I don't see a soft bosom for snuggling sweet babies. I see years and years of hurt and hatred and empty desire. That's what lead to this build up of fat around my body. Layers and layers of chubbiness packed on in a distinct effort to extinguish the burning pain within my heart. See if I was chubby (as I was so often described) then it made sense why boys didn't want to hang out with me, why I didn't have a date to the dance, why I didn't make the volleyball team. Simply....why I wasn't good enough. But in high school when I blossomed as all girls do and lost all that "baby" fat, the drowning hurt and sorrow that washed over my delicate frame was too much to bear. It was overwhelming. Thus, I packed back on the pounds and didn't care for it was safer within this thick exterior. In college, I once again lost weight and thought myself pretty and was once again slapped in the face by people I should never have put stock in.

Nevertheless, the pounds have returned. And to be quite honest, I absolutely abhor them! Every reflection is an intense reminder of all that I have suffered. I find it difficult to move past and be myself  and live the life I want because the remnant of the hurt remains. Am I telling you this to make you feel sorry for me? No. Am I telling you this to try and justify an unhealthy lifestyle? No. I am telling you this because I am tired of carrying around 50 pounds of hurt all the time. It's exhausting. Talk about baggage. I am not asking for contradictions to what I have said, for they will fall on deaf ears. Would I appreciate prayers and encouragement and understanding? Of course! Now as I look into the face of a new year, of a new chapter in life, I shall work to turn the page. To shed the weight that has been holding me down and robbing me of joy and my own sense of beauty and self-worth. It's going to be a rough road ahead, but you know what? I've got a great workout buddy. He's with me all the time and he loves me deeply and he understands how I feel even if I can't imagine how. And with him.......anything is possible..........and absolutely nothing is impossible either (which I feel is just as important to remember).