#$%^&*(#$%^&!!!!!

I can't even begin to explain how utterly, totally, and completely pissed off I am right now!

I am angry!

I am hurt!

I am frustrated!

I am so FREAKING pissed!!! #$%^&*($!! The expletives that are careening through my brain presently are not fit for TV or even the silver screen!

But, even in the midst of the Mt. Everest of emotion I am feeling, I am really quite proud of myself. Here's what all went through my mind:

• Where's a hunk of chocolate?
• Maybe I'll finish that bottle of wine?
• Where's a can of whoop ass I could open?
  
• ...back to the chocolate...
• ...back to the wine...
  

I stopped. I breathed. I didn't allow all the f* bombs that were flying around in my head to actually come out of my mouth. I breathed again. I said, "God, I really need You to enlighten (or slap around) the person that so stupidly wrecked me today...because they just don't get it!!!"

I realized that as much as I wanted to hurt the person who was totally thoughtless and "naively" ignorant and hurtful to me, eating a crap load of chocolate and downing it with a 1/2 a bottle of wine wouldn't hurt that person...it would only show up on my mid-section or thighs and make me groggy in the morning. It wouldn't have affected that person at all. It would have only hurt me...and I've had enough hurt for one day...

Nope. I didn't even eat a crazy amount of dinner.

I didn't use food and I didn't abuse it.

So, even though no conclusion has been found in my hurt, one thing that I can take away from the situation is that I didn't hurt myself to try to get back at another person.

I think I took a step in the right direction.

Nice work, me!

God is Smarter than a 2nd Grader

I don’t know what’s best for me…God does.

I don't know what's best for me. I think I do, but I don't.

I think I’ve always thought this, but I most certainly haven’t always practiced it. Not when I take up the details. Not when I don’t seek Him regularly. Not when I ride on my self-sufficiency.

And, as my friend said at a retreat I recently attended, “It’s easy to trust God with the big things, but what about the details?”

I can totally track with the “big things” mentality. I’ve never questioned whether God can make the world go round, heal the sick, raise the dead, split seas wide open…but does He really give a rip about whether I am physically insecure or can’t stand the woman in the mirror?

And not just when it comes to poor self-image, but in everything, do I really, truly believe, no matter how difficult it may be, how much effort I may have to put forth, even if my heart is wrecked and it’s not all turning out as I had planned or expected…does God really know what is best for me?

That would mean I have to admit He sees a bigger picture and is way smarter than me. I know God is way smarter than me. Duh. So then why, oh why, do I try to pick it up again? And by “it” I mean: whatever it is I am battling, trying to control, thinking I have under control…why is it that I think I can handle it and manage it better than the God of the Universe can?

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8&9

God knows what is best for me, and it’s good, and it’s better than anything I could try to make up from my own strength.

And He knows what’s best for you, and it’s beautiful, it’s more than you could ever imagine, and it’s smarter than anything we could think up on our own.

It's a no-brainer: The Creator of the Universe knows what's best for me...now to just put that into practice every day by laying down my own selfishness...

Mind Games

For the majority of my life, when I look in a mirror, I haven’t loved the reflection.

I have a lot of random thoughts when I think of the title, “Mind Games.” One in particular is how, at times in my life, I have looked in the mirror or saw my own arm or leg and thought, “Hmm. I wish my arm actually looked like that.”

The mind game comes in because as I saw my own reflection, my own arm, for instance, I wasn’t distorting it or squeezing a chunk of it, hiding it in my armpit. I was looking at my very own arm…seeing what was in the mirror…wishing my arm looked just like that…but not really seeing that the very arm I was looking at in the mirror was my own.

Does that make sense? Well, no, it doesn’t make sense, but do you kinda sorta at least understand what I’m trying to convey?

What our mind receives is not always what our eyes are actually seeing…

I have poor eyesight. I am very near-sighted. It’s ironic, really. Especially when I think of a poor self-image journey because when you are “near-sighted” it means you can see things close to you quite clearly, but not far away. Yet, what I see clearly in the mirror isn’t really what God sees.

I also have poor vision. It’s distorted sometimes. It’s especially foggy when I try to SEE through my own perspective instead of God’s eye view.

I’m not sure if this is my “thorn in my side” but I am looking for the day that what I see in the mirror is what God sees.

Because this journey isn’t really about how I look or what I see but it’s about being who I was created to be. That’s the only me I want to be. To the fullest. I've just hit a small road block...

Insane in the membrane!

I just did INSANITY.

Not quite sure why I did that...

I mean, I like to work out hard, but I was having flashbacks of high school basketball practice and our skinny Italian coach yelling at us girls to "Get on the line!" It paid off. His training did take us to State 3 years in a row, but seriously, I'm pushing 40, and my hip pops constantly. (Don't tell Tony Horton, but I think I'll stick to my P90X...it's a little more age appropriate for this old body :))

Anyway, my mom asked me a question the other day that made me smile. She said, "I guess I just don't understand why you had to hide in the closet to eat."

I am a black and white person, very literal, up is up, down is down. But, I never actually sat in my closet and ate. One time I sat in my closet and cried but that was because I thought it was a good idea to try to dye my hair the night before I was heading out of town for my friend's wedding...let's just say, my bangs were orange, kinda like Tang. I actually looked like an orangutan. Thankfully Jason offered to run to the store at midnight and I showed up in Houston as a "natural" brunette.

The title of this blog came to my heart as a result of looking back, trying to get to the core of when and where and how my relationship with myself and food went awry. I think you probably knew that, but in case you pictured me eating food in my closet, it's more of a mentality...and I've "outed" myself, if you will.

The very act of outing myself has helped somewhat.

Honestly, and this is of no surprise, what is helping the most is changing my thoughts...and this not by my own strength. In March I started hand-writing the Bible. I've read it a lot, but actually writing it down word for word has been a beautiful discipline for me, physically and mentally. I've been ridding myself of excess busyness in my life, even good busyness, and as a result, had told God I didn't want all the great thoughts of any old author or study but wanted to sit and learn from The Ultimate Author.

I highly recommend it. God's a really smart Guy. Don't let your heart get preoccupied with all the details of history, the lineages, the future, or even all the "why's?" you might have. Just God. Who He is. How He desires to be known. Plain and simple. Getting to know God the way He wants to be known instead of through the pictures that religion has tried to paint is a much more beautiful journey. Getting to know God is not a formula. It a relationship that takes time and effort, give and take, talking and listening.

But, if we're doing all the talking, we'll never get to know Him. Ever. Don't believe me? Think about meeting a new person. If you talk the whole time, will you learn anything about the new person? I mean, besides that they are a good listener, or very patient?

Anyway, spending time handwriting His word has been more fulfilling than any pan of brownies. Doesn't mean I don't like brownies. I do. But I like God more. And I daily have to choose God over the other things I want to fill my life with, no matter how good they may be.

I want God plain and simple.

He wants the same from me...

Fixation on Vacation

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding." Proverbs 9:10

"If you find honey, eat just enough - too much of it, and you will vomit." Proverbs 25:16

"Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul; if you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off." Proverbs 24:13&14

These are some scriptures I was reading this morning. Filling up on God's word rather than on food, or even thinking of food.

My mom is a really wise woman. She shared with me a revelation she had about Americans, but really any indulgent people, and pleasure. I had recently gotten home from a vacation. I hadn't gone on a real vacation, with just Jason, in over 5 years. And, it was to one of my favorite places on earth...Mexico. It was so relaxing! I got ample sleep, sat in the sun while reading "Cold Tangerines" and defrosting my body. I ate guacamole, fresh fruit and had real Mexican margaritas...and this all not just with Jason but with some of our very best friends. It was a recipe for a great getaway. I am so grateful we had the opportunity!

And then we came home.

And home is good, too. I love all the people that are here at home. But there are responsibilities here. There is work to be done. I am needed here. I can't just be, but that is okay. Really, it is.

The problem is, the memories we walk away with from a vacation are also wrapped around feelings that felt so darn good. My mom shared something like this: The experiences and feelings get so wrapped up into one that we try to re-create those same feelings into our every day life. And not just once in a while as a quick escape from reality, but when stress comes or overload or fatigue, boredom, sadness, whatever the trigger, we try to add the feeling of vacation into every element of our lives...hence, eating when we aren't hungry. Shopping when we don't need anything. Having that extra drink just to get that extra little buzz. Whatever our "go to", when it is in excess, either by quantity, actual time or thinking about it, it becomes an idol.

(I find it interesting that this is exactly what Em and I are reading in her Picture Bible right now, as well as her Reader for school...hmmm...guess God is reinforcing what He is setting me free from!)

Freedom from responsibility, total uninterrupted relaxation, satisfaction from food that was made for me by a chef, the opportunity to be served instead of having to do all the work. Honestly, the list could go on and on.

But God set the example of reality for me at the very beginning: 6 days work, 1 day off to rest. We want, or maybe just I want, no one else out there, the feeling of 6 days rest...6 days of vacation...6 days of at least the feelings of vacation...and if I were to be honest: 7.

So, for me, even though my trip to Mexico was totally great, it was at the end of a really long and draining time line of events in my life. I'm not going to pull the dead kid card here. I'm not trying to make excuses. I am grateful for this blog that I hate because it's giving me a space to retrace some steps and see where I burnt out. It's been culminating for a while. I think I've just felt too needed, and even that shows me I was trying to do too much on my own strength, coasting on refills of the past instead of stopping for myself, not selfishly, but because we all need it, just to get filled up by the One Who does the ultimate filling.

No, I haven't been laying on the floor in the family room with all the lights on under a space heater to recreate the Mexican sun, but I have been eating out of boredom, that is for sure.

At the beginning of this year, I was hungrier than ever to just have simple, uncomplicated, quiet time with God. I expressed that to Him, though He knew my heart anyway, so it's not like it was a big secret. As a result, He has been showing me how He is taking things out of my life to create more room, not to fill up with people, experiences or things, but to fill up with Him.

Just the other night, as I was trying to fall asleep after posting here, God showed me quite a few things on this quest for freedom from food obsession. One was this:

When Noah was in the hospital, and for quite some time afterward, food wasn't even an issue. I actually didn't even eat out of stress while he was sick. And, He showed me it was because I wasn't being self-sufficient but was trusting Him with everything. He also showed me, though, that there doesn't have to be a train wreck or chaos, calamity or heartache in order to lean into Him.

I know too much.

I already know that God wants me to hang out with Him all day long, everyday, not just when stuff is tough. But I'm a strong personality. I am driven. I can do it on my own. I'm self-sufficient. Yep. I can. I mean, obviously...that's why I have this blog that I hate, right?!

What I really need to eat right now is a few slices of humble pie. Actually, just one bite is plenty. I mean, I need the whole pie because I really need some humbling, but with this revelation, I know that one bite will do. I can't do this on my own. All the willpower in the world won't suffice. But God will. He does. I just need to sit and be with Him more.

I have picked it up again. I have allowed food to become an idol once more. I've allowed myself to crowd out my Heavenly Father.

I'm a regular old Israelite of old. I wonder if the golden calf they forged was a big, fat, golden calf?

I am sorry, Lord. I am sorry.

And God has been gracious. He forgives me. He isn't disgusted with me. He loves me. He hasn't changed, He remains.

So I am the one that has to stop and go back to where He can be found...and it's not in the busyness of things that are even good. It's at His feet. It's not with the fridge hanging open or my hand in the bottom of an empty bag or with the American sized portions on every corner.

It's at His feet. In His Word. Pure and simple. I'm re-learning.

Those last 10 lbs.

You know, when I weighed 187 pounds, I thought I only needed to lose 10 pounds. When I weighed 165 for a few years, I thought the same thing. Ditto thoughts when I was 150…It’s funny how we can become comfortable with our weight. It’s also interesting how our perspective can change, as well as our standard.

I bought into the lie. You know the one, “The older you get, you just naturally are going to gain weight, especially after children…just expect to hold onto the weight…embrace the fat.” But I don’t think I ever truly bought into it, which is probably one reason I’ve wanted to lose “those last 10 pounds” for 15+ years and a roller coaster of 45+ pounds up and down.

I’m ready to get off this ride!

I am tired of living in a state of “the last 10 pounds” whether it’s really just 10 or 5 or 40 or 130. I just don’t really want to always wonder what I could have felt like or if I really could have attained it.

Yes, I mean I’d like to maintain a healthy weight through healthful eating and exercise. A healthy body image and an actual healthy body, in my opinion, go hand in hand. You can’t truly have one without the other, I don’t think.

Now don’t get me wrong…just because somebody has a great body physically doesn’t mean they have a healthy mind. And, someone could be completely comfortable in their own skin at 400 pounds, but it doesn’t mean their heart and joints and vital organs aren’t compromised.

The point of this post is I just think our brains are interesting…to say the least. I mean, to think that my brain and my eyes had a disconnect at some point, namely what I see in the mirror, what I think about myself, what the scale says, what weight I think I could be happy at…I think it’s all very interesting.

I’m excited to share some powerful things that God put on my heart last night regarding hunger and satisfaction, but I don’t have time right now…I have a date with my husband in the basement to do our P90X of the day.

(Case in point about the scale and weighing each day...today I am 144.8. The thing that was different was I didn't have my allergens the last two days...do you know what your food sensitivities are? You probably don't if you are eating them regularly.)

Retracing some of my steps...

So, in the food journal I write in each day, I record my weight. I don't recommend weighing yourself everyday if you are an obsessive person. The reality is, our weight fluctuates up and down a few pounds in just a matter of hours, even. I know this now. I record my weight and journal my food intake each day because I am learning which foods I am sensitive to and which ones cause me to retain excess weight and swelling, therefore, which foods to either limit or avoid altogether. I did not know this fact when I was a teenager. All I could see was the numbers...not "the why?"

As an insecure high schooler who thought every other girl was a million times more beautiful than me, at least in the summers when I was home throughout the day, I would weigh myself up to 5x in a day...no, I'm not exaggerating, unfortunately. It makes me sad to think of how many teenage girls are trapped as grown women today, still checking the scale that frequently, but not knowing how and why it could possibly fluctuate so much! It makes me sad to think of how many teenage girls never even made it to womanhood because they thought food, and their own reflections, and the number on the scale were their enemies.

Looking back, I'm shocked at some of my high school and college pictures! I used to think I was fat. I wasn't. I am 5' 9 1/2" tall and have been ever since high school. When I got to college I weighed 140 lbs and had 18% body fat. I know this because my freshman year of college, and the years following, we had to have our BMI's done in P.E. (Why I still remember that number over 20 years later is part of the story, I guess.) When I graduated I weighed 150 lbs and had a percent body fat of 25. According to BMI charts, I was healthy when I got to college but was considered obese when I left...reading that word "obese" as a one hundred and fifty pound person really jacked up my mind and the reflection in the mirror.

"How could I be obese when I had only gained 10 lbs?" I thought.

Yep. Freshman year, first week, the school highlighted most girls' biggest battle without even knowing it...

Since college my weight has gone from anywhere between 150 and 180, not pregnant. I maxed out when I worked at a college, after college, in a size 14. I lived on campus with all the girls, and yes, I ate like I was a student instead of a real, live grown-up who should know better to make wise choices.

You might think that a 10 pound weight gain in 4 years of college isn't that big of a deal. I mean, yeah, I wasn't on high school swim team anymore, practicing 2 hours a day after school, nor was I doing lunges and wall squats in basketball, either. But I was still working out each week, because we had to for PE at our college. I was working out but not as much, and, I was eating a heck of a lot more. Yes, my metabolism slowed from not being in sports, but my appetite increased, as well.

I know that in college more than high school I ate out of habit rather than hunger. And boy did I have some crappy habits! I hadn't drank pop in high school. Water or tea had always been my beverage of choice until I met my new best friend...the college cafeteria. Filled with so many choices, I was a kid in a candy store. I am not kidding when I tell you that at lunch and dinner I would put two waters and two Dr. Peppers on my tray. Every. Single. Day. And, of course, there were the late night trips to the vending machines so I could just stay awake long enough to get that paper done...

My freshman year alone, glancing back at my checkbook, I had spent over $600 at the Subway across the street...and I can tell you what I had ordered each time: 6" Turkey Bacon with cheese, lettuce, onion, tons of pickles, mustard, mayo and salt and pepper on white...and a Dr. Pepper, of course. (I know now why that sandwich is bad for me in so many ways, but I honestly thought that the fact that I had ordered turkey and lettuce was a healthy choice.)

And one of the sad things...I can look back and remember dieting in high school, before any of this crazy college over-eating. And by "dieting" I mean, I would do one of two things: I would drink one of my dad's Ultra Slim-F*ast shakes for breakfast, or, having had become a Christian Mother's Day my freshman year in 1987, I would be oh so super spiritual and "fast." Lame-O! God and I both knew I wasn't fasting in the proper sense of the word. I wanted the scale to be good to me, plain and simple.

This morning I weighed 147. I can't believe I just typed that out in real life. This blog sucks. Anyway, that puts me just a little over 21 BMI. Two weeks ago I was 144 and 149 all in the same week. I also found out I am allergic to eggs, which I never knew, and it was reconfirmed that I need to avoid dairy. I've known about gluten for probably two years now.

Two and a half months ago, I was 139...it was that weight that I looked in the mirror and finally said to myself, "Wow. You look healthy." It was at that weight that I freaked out and didn't know how to be a healthy thin person again and therefore started self-sabotaging.

I don't have a specific number in mind right now. That's not what this is about. I know now as a health and nutrition hobbyist over the past 10+ years how to be a healthy person, how to make balanced meals, how to shop around the perimeter of the grocery store, avoid genetically modified foods, buy organic, eat fresh as much as possible, don't combine proteins and starches, limit starches and sugars, choosing whole foods over processed junk, taking probiotics and omegas, yada, yada, yada...I know all this stuff. Believe me. I know. I know. I know.

Now I just have to figure out why I've never really, truly ever loved myself...and start doing it.

Refreshments

So, I couldn't post yesterday as I did not have access to a computer or the Internet.

The retreat was great! Honestly, the days and weeks leading up to it, I was just thinking of it as a retreat where I would only know one friend and where I'd just get up and share my story and then sit down...

It never occurred to me that God could have a bit more in mind...like that I would enjoy the retreat, feel refreshed, and come away with new perspective. I have a lot to digest...

Food wasn't even an issue this weekend. I didn't bring any bags of treats and even the chocolates (dairy) that were in my gift bag I slipped into another girl's bag. There was a buffet, like large camp cafeteria style, not so much FoodNetwork style, so, as you might imagine everything had dairy, gluten and eggs in it. I have recently learned I am allergic to dairy, gluten and eggs. I've been off gluten for over a year, so that wasn't a big deal, but I literally had been eating 2 eggs every morning with lots of sauteed veggies. Anyway, to say the least, it was interesting navigating the buffet, but I was safe with plain veggies, salads, fruit and meat. I thought I had found a glitch in the sweet tooth system when I discovered non-dairy creamer...you know the stuff...flavored, made out of corn syrup solids and stuff I can't pronounce because I failed chemistry. Anyway, I don't ever eat that stuff because I preferred the real, pure, cream from a cow. Well, after I had had 4 cups of decaf in two days with many a pump of hazelnut fake creamer, I read the fine print...there's casein. Did I mention there was significant bloating? So, just another reason why that stuff was bad for me in the first place. Maybe coconut milk creamer???

Anyway, much more exciting than that was the opportunity to get away, up in the beautiful mountains, and enjoy a little quiet and time with an old friend who is likely moving away. I met beautiful women with beautiful stories. I was honored and humbled to be able to share part of my story. When a short video was playing of Noah's journey, one I have seen a lot of times, I started choking back the tears. I really am blown away how much Ryan looks like his big brother!

Here are a few morsels I wrote down over the weekend that God put on my heart...I will be chewing on these for a while, for sure. I am typing them as I wrote them...you can get what you want from them:

• Satiate: 100% satisfaction in the Lord...satisfy my craving
• Will You, God, give me what You know I need, what You have designed, what Your will & plan is for me?
• It's easy to believe God for the really BIG things...but what about the details?
• There are seasons when God wants us to only have Him in order to draw closer and know our SOURCE.
• I don't know what's best for me...God does...so how do I place total trust in Him, then?
• Sometimes it may seem hour by hour, minute by minute, day by day.
• Coping mechanism - Let God fill that hole I am trying to fill...figuring out, "what is that hole?"

Here are some notes I wrote down from the songs, just lines from them that stood out as a theme, I guess:

• Let my life song sing to you, knowing that my heart was true
• Hungry, You satisfy, Your love does not run dry
• Falling on my knees, offering all of me, Jesus You are all this heart is hungry for
• Lord, I've taken it up again...I lay it down...You know what is best for me.
• Lead me to the cross where Your blood poured out
• Rid me of myself, I belong to You...
• I live for You alone...

I know, right?! I mean, did you see the theme? Yeah, the worship leader did NOT consult with me prior to choosing her songs and as we talked later, she told me that some she hadn't sung in years but felt like God was putting them on her heart for the weekend. What do you know?!

The girl who led worship is Rachel James. She is extremely talented and I had the chance over the weekend to spend time with her, learn some of her story, and be blessed to hear her use her gift of music for God. It might seem cheesy, but, to me, a non-musical human being, when Rachel's fingers touched that piano, it made the piano sing. Pray for her...God has her on a journey.

The bullet above that is in red...that's the one that struck my heart most profoundly...I'll share my guts about it tomorrow. Right now, though, I hear my yummy baby through the monitor and I can't wait to go scoop him up and smooch the heck out of him.

So frustrating!

Arghhh! I totally want to just hit the "delete this blog" button on here.

I realize that in order for this blog to work for me, I have to make a stupid entry everyday. Otherwise I'll just slip into my own secretive habits and it'll just be a writing outlet, not an outlet to actually walk in freedom.

I'm a very literal person. Black and White. Sometimes I can be the most disciplined person on the planet, but if I have no outward accountability, my momentum dwindles. It's annoying. Anyway, if I write down everything I eat, which sucks since that is focusing on food, but if I write down everything in a journal, which I have on my counter, then I won't cheat. Because, I don't want to write, "1/2 a tub of Ben&Jerry's" or "One dozen chocolate chip cookies" or "1 box Thin Mints in car on way home from store." Thankfully, I'm just that messed up that if I've said I have to write it down then I won't eat it...I know some people might eat it and not write it down my mind doesn't work that way.

I do want to tell you what this blog is NOT...

It's not a, "Hey! I achieved this goal and so can you! These are the steps!"

This is a processing place. I'm on the journey, I haven't attained it. No nirvana here...

Real, raw, uncensored. This is me in real life. I am this way in everything else, I just couldn't allow my food addiction to cramp my style, so I have stuffed it pretty well over the years. I've confided in a few friends but they are too safe.

Anyway, I am sharing at a retreat this weekend and have to head out the door. Ask me if I reveal my secret there...that's not why I've been asked to speak, but just maybe telling on myself to those strangers will help bring a little perspective.

I hate food.

I love food.

I hate that I love food.

I don't love that I hate or love food.

I just want to eat food and get on with it, already.

It's not even food, even though it kind of is. It's really only part of it, but it's annoying, nonetheless.

• If you do drugs, you can stop by removing the drugs from your life.

• If you drink too much, you can stop by avoiding alcohol and never coming in contact with it again.

• If you are a pervert, you can stop being a pervert by avoiding porn and perverted situations, busying yourself with productivity and such....(these, of course, are simplified cures, mind you...just getting my point across, here...)

If your addiction is food, you can't stop eating food. Somehow, with prayers, willpower, discipline, accountability, journaling, busying oneself with some sort of hobby or whothehellknowswhat, you can break a food addiction and it can become a beautiful, well-balanced, healthy relationship. If anyone knows how, lemme know. Thanks.

I hate this blog.

I don't want you to know that as I sit and type this, having just finished an organic apple and tablespoon of natural peanut butter that I would have rather had the entire outer edge of a gluten-free tray of brownies...which I cannot make in my house or have just sitting around, because I would eat them all...because I have.

And this isn't all I think about. And sometimes it is.

Believe me, my life is oh so much more exciting than just food-thinking or how fat I think I am, but this season in my life, for a reason, it is at the forefront again. Stuffing it down worked in the past...for some reason it's not working this time. Maybe I actually want to be free?!

In the same vein, I love zucchini and spinach, kale and salmon, grass fed beef and cherries.

I don't dream about food, either.

There are just days that I get so bored, I eat. And then, I hate what I see in the mirror.

Recently I lost a significant amount of weight and had to go out and buy new jeans. Rough, I know...but seriously, I'm not looking for your condolences.

Here's the problem...in my mind, in my eyes, in my heart, I've always been the fat one. I'm the bigger sister, even though I'm the middle kid. In my reality, the perfectionism that runs rampant in my mind has never graced itself on my thighs or upper arms and, in my jacked up world, it's maddening!

As long as I can remember, I've never thought the girl in the mirror was pretty. She wasn't thin enough, though she was never huge. I think I literally hid behind my hair and my personality. Both were big enough to hide my thighs and hurtful thoughts. I had good hair. (And by "had" I mean, before I had kids. Now I don't even have that going for me...)

I know! I totally disgust you! I disgust myself. There are bigger problems in the world. I realize that, which is why I have to write my guts out here in order to be free of my own messed up self and move on with more important things.

I've had this blog in my mind for several months now. My mind is a safer place where I can hide my dirty, disgusting little secret. But, I for one, know there is no such thing as a secret. When there is something hidden in our lives that is not meant to be kept in the shadows, it. will. be. brought. to. light.

So, here you go: I was a latch-key kid starting in 2nd grade and it was then that my addiction and jacked up relationship with food began. Or maybe it was then that my skewed self-image started emerging. Chicken or the egg? I was a free agent in the kitchen and no one was there to tell me, "No. Dinner is almost ready, don't fill up." I would usually play with my BFF down the street for a bit and then if we didn't snack at her house, or even if we did, I'd come home and open the pantry. "What can I sneak before my parents get home?" Mwwahahaha! I suspect it started out of actual hunger from actually playing outside way back when in the late '70's and early '80's, you know, when we rode our bikes and skipped rope and roller skated and chased kids and climbed trees...before Atari. Does anyone out there remember? Anyway, at some point it morphed from hunger to boredom, and though I have not been bored for the last 30 years straight, I most certainly have eaten out of boredom...and comfort...and sadness...and boredom...and probably habit?

So when I lost all that weight recently, I looked in the mirror and was shocked, quite frankly. I didn't have bat wings. There wasn't a spot of cellulite to push in and wiggle. My stomach was flat which had never happened...and I thought, "Wow. You look really healthy. That's the you I've always known was in there."

And then I cracked. I didn't know how to be that healthy thin person. I started self-sabotaging. Gross, I know. But really, I did not know how to carry myself and the very weight I had hated for years I welcomed back with open, floppy upper arms.

Anyway, I'm kind of grossing myself out here. I am on this journey to find healing and wholeness. I write because it helps me get my guts and thoughts on "paper." I write it here because without accountability there is no motivation for change. I write here because I know I am not the only person out of 6 plus billion that has a very skewed self-body image or less than desirable relationship with food.

Warning: I have to be real here. I will not candy-coat my entries. I will not blow sunshine and try to make this look fluffy, though I will crack jokes to lighten my own heart. If you are offended by the content of this blog, hit "Next blog" and be on your way...it's just that easy.

For anyone else, if this blog resonates with you on any level, come back for another serving. My heart buffet is open...