As a fan of the Biggest Loser (watching it, not living it, mind you) I keep getting annoyed by the "emotional work" that they have the contestants do. You know, the breaking down walls, peeling back the layers of the onion, blah, blah, blah. Don't get me wrong, I firmly believe there is a huge emotional component to my weight - I just have no freakin' clue how to figure out what it is and fix it. So instead of trying to figure out ways to figure it out, I just get annoyed by people on TV who are figuring it out. But as I tossed and turned tonight while I should have been sleeping, I think I made some progress toward figuring out the root of my problem with weight.
The problem is, there is not a single day that goes by that I don't think about my weight. It affects everything I do from getting dressed in the morning to going to bed at night. I don't go anywhere without thinking about who I will see and what they will think about my weight. I avoid people and situations so people can't see how fat I am. My entire life is altered by my weight and yet I can't seem to do anything about it. I am completely broken when it comes to my weight and fixing the problem that keeps me so crippled day in and day out.
Why? I am still not sure how to answer that question completely, but I had a little mini emotional breakthrough a couple of months ago when a college friend posted something on Facebook as we were bantering back and forth. I don't remember the exact words, but the gist was something about nothing being more attractive than a pretty girl in glasses. I used to sometimes wear fake glasses because it was fun and I thought they made me look studious - dorky, I know, but I was 18 years old so I feel I deserve a break for my actions! - and he teased me about it all the time. Anyway, when I read the post, I literally broke down in tears (even though it was a reference to the far better looking physical me that existed 15 years ago rather than today). I think it may be the only time in my life that anyone EVER called me pretty. EVER. Of course my family and friends have told me I looked nice; I have had friends and strangers say I had nice skin or a pretty smile or maybe even told me I looked pretty in this or that color, but no one has ever just flat out said I was pretty. And it obviously bothered me on some level that I wasn't even aware existed.
So I have been digging. And peeling. And trying to chisel away at myself to try to figure out why it would matter so much to me that no one has ever called me pretty. And although I hate to get all psychiatrist couch-y about it, I really think it must all go back to my early years. I am not trying to place blame on my parents - now that I am a parent I realize that you do the best you can with what you have and just hope like hell you don't screw up too badly. But that doesn't mean that an emotional shit-pile doesn't form along the way.
After my parents divorced, they both went through some rough times. My dad went through a bad period when he drank too much and made some bad choices and was pretty self-absorbed. Like sometimes he forgot to pick me up on time and I would be stranded at gymnastics or day camp or some other crappy place waiting for him to show up. Or he would drop me off at an event and say he would be right in and then not come back. And then he remarried twice and had new families and went on with life. My mom dated and remarried and a step-sister moved in and turned my world on its side. Then mom divorced and remarried and I got a new step-father at 15 (a less than ideal time to add a family member to a house). And she was ALWAYS on a diet despite the fact she has probably never been technically overweight in her whole life. And she really needs compliments (often) about her looks to make her feel OK. And she is obsessed with pretty. And conveys the message that there is nothing more important in life than being pretty. At least that is the message I heard.
I also had this best friend growing up who is pretty. Beautiful probably. And I have been told by everyone I know that has ever met her that she sure is a pretty girl. Which is great. Unless you are the not-so-pretty best friend.
Whose well-meaning mother is always on a diet. And distracted with her own life. And is obsessed with weight and looks and constantly commenting on everyone's weight and/or looks. Even people on the streets. And who will tell her daughter (who weighs 115 and looks pretty good) she looks good but might look even better 5 pounds lighter (without even meaning it badly because she thinks everyone would look better 5 pounds lighter). And whose father has another family and doesn't realize his daughter feels displaced. And who doesn't bother her parents with details or her own life because they are way too busy worrying about their own lives. And therefore goes through life feeling lonely and ugly and mostly unlovable. Not all the time, because life is really pretty good. But those feelings are there just below the surface. Always.
So is this the saddest story ever? No - not by a long shot. Should I have gotten over all of this years ago and moved on with my own family? Probably. Should the fact that I have a wonderful, loving husband, two beautiful children and a lovely, comfortable life make me leave those not so wonderful years in the past where they belong? Most definitely. But I haven't. Because buried under the 225 pounds I carry is a lonely girl who feels vulnerable and ugly and eats to fill the hole. When I eat, that empty space in my gut fills up - at least temporarily. And if I am going to be unlovable when I weigh 115 or 120 pounds, why should I bother? I might as well be fat and have an excuse for feeling the way I do. After all, how could anyone possibly love a fat person?
So I guess that leaves some questions - will I step up and take responsibility for my own life and the fact that I have ended up where I am of my own free will? Will I come to know that no one else is responsible for defining who I am or how I feel about myself except me? Will I realize that eating isn't going to fill the void in the little girl's heart inside me? And finally, will I have the courage to make my life everything it can be so I can give all of myself to my husband and my kids and leave the pain behind? I hope so. Because what I am currently doing and feeling is no way to live. And I don't want to do it anymore.
I am trying to type through the blur of tears here. My heart is just aching. This is a lesson to me. A lesson in not always taking what I "see" as the whole of the truth.
ReplyDeleteI have ALWAYS been so intimidated by you. And I don't mean that in any kind of bad way...it's not that you even did anything to make me less than you. No, it's always been your self-confidence, your gusto, your determination, and yes, your beauty. You've always seemed to live your life so fully. Kara, you've ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS radiated this amazing beauty!!! I swear, Kara, I honestly swear, I'm NOT saying that because of what you wrote. This whole post comes as a startling revelation to me...I'd never had any idea of how hard you are on yourself. Of how much hurt you've carried. But even though it comes as such a shock to me, I believe you completely in your feelings. And I'm going to ask you to believe me completely, too...I am not patting you on the head and saying "But you are pretty" because I think that's what you want to hear. No. I am speaking from my heart.
I never saw you as you saw yourself. And you obviously have never seen yourself as I've always seen you. I wish I had a way to make you understand. No matter what weight you've been at, you have always been beautiful!
There are certainly people who are maybe not so physically attractive, but are beautiful nonetheless, because they carry such beauty within themselves. I suspect that if something tragic happened that altered your physical appearance, that you would be one of those people. But that's not the case now...you ARE physically beautiful. And the amazingness of who you are only magnifies that beauty.
I worry that you're going to think everything I said is just one giant suck-up or something. But Kara, it is not. These are my feelings poured out to you. I understand that we can't always grasp how others perceive us...I realize you won't be able to just grab ahold of my perspective and make it your own. But I hope with all my heart that it will at least help you to remember that others don't see you as you see yourself.
Oh Kara, I just love you so much. *hugs hugs and hugs some more*
Oh Debi...thank you so much. I appreciate your words more than you know. I think I have cried more in the past 12 hours than I have in the past 12 years while writing and then while reading what you wrote. When I woke up this morning I felt so silly that I had even posted my feelings - like I was wallowing in a self-pity that I needed to just get out of. But over the last few hours, I realized that it was a massive relief just to get it out. I don't feel comfortable criticizing or blaming my parents for my issues, and therefore I never have actually verbalized some of the things that did hurt me along the way. I am hoping that admitting that some of those things pissed me off and hurt me will allow me to move forward and let go. And although I think I will always see myself as the less-than-perfect girl I grew up as, I think I can find a new perspective that will let me quit hearing her in my head quite so much. Thank you so much for all of the things you said - it really does mean a lot to me. I plan to read and reread your post when I need some help to keep me on track and remember that there are much more important things in life than weight - namely beautiful, kind-hearted friends who are there to pick me up along the way.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, my wonderful friend. I love you and am so very fortunate and am thankful to have you in my life.
Okay, you may find this shocking coming from this bleeding heart liberal wacko ;) but I believe strongly in personal responsibility, too. But my dear, sweet friend, taking responsibility for ourselves doesn't mean we can't hurt. And it certainly doesn't mean we should ignore that hurt. Wallowing in self-pity...no way. Sweetie, I saw NONE of that. Nor did I see you "blaming" your parents for your issues. I saw you admitting how their actions made you feel. Big difference. I'm not going to sit here and beat up your parents...to do so would make me a blasted hypocrite because my parenting skills are far from perfect. But the hurt you've been carrying is so undeniably legitimate, Kara. You've spent years beating yourself up for not living up to some ridiculous standard of pretty...and I'm guessing had you been the doppleganger of Miss America, it still wouldn't have been good enough--because you simply aren't seeing yourself as most people see you. And now you're beating yourself up for admitting that you've been living with this hurt. Seems to me that's a step forward in the personal responsibility realm, Kara...not an effort to hide from it. *hugs hugs hugs*
ReplyDeleteYou. Are. Awesome.
And I love you!