Hard to believe that it's been 3 months + since I wrote a post! In any case, since it's been that long, I think this will be a little longer than a "normal" post, but we'll see where the figurative pen takes me. I have an idea where I'm going with this one, though, and so I want to give a heads up to the guys (and maybe some gals) that read these- this post is going to deal with something I've been struggling with lately, and it's an issue that has to do with my physical body. So guys, if you aren't interested in a bit of bluntness (not a lot, but a bit), or you aren't okay reading something like this, just skip over this post. Gals, too, if you want.
Now that I've actually committed to writing this, I'm sitting here struggling with how to start. It's always hard to open up and be vulnerable, but especially hard since this is something that I'm really sensitive about. But, seeing as I find writing therapeutic (the whole reason I started this blog), I'm just going to go ahead with it.
Like a lot of women I know, I've always struggled with my self-esteem/self-worth. And like a lot of women I know, it really doesn't help when there are a lot of things out there in the media telling me who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to look like, how I'm supposed to act, think, dress, etc. Sometimes I feel like I'm balancing on a fence. On one side, there is God, telling me who I am and whose I am. Affirming me. Believing in me. Loving me. Not judging me. And on the other side, there is media, there are people, and there is Satan. It's a hard place to be in. Struggling, no, warring, with what I've grown up believing, about myself (the wrong things), and wanting to believe and believing in what God tells me.
I don't like balancing. But I also don't think this is a battle that will end anytime soon. The lies that are ingrained within me are deep. And I am still struggling with believing the truth. Believing God. Trusting in Him. (that's a whole other issue, too, one that's tied into believing the lies.) Even right now, I sit here and I struggle, knowing that I'm opening up to...I don't even know who. But trusting that this will help me, and maybe some other people out there. Trusting that God will work through this.
Down to the main issue that has caused me to write this post. Some of you have heard me talk about this a little bit, so it may not come as a surprise to you to see it in writing. For the rest of you, just bear with me. Sidenote: this is where it will start getting a bit more blunt.
This story starts with a good thing. An engagement. Mine. As with any couple out there, our engagement (mine and Geoff's) meant that we started talking about more specific future plans. Even more specifically, kids. Geoff and I had always talked about children, and how many we wanted, and things were hazy future-wise. But when we got engaged, we needed to plan. We're a little different in terms of when we want children (he wants them sooner than I do), but we agreed to wait a few years before trying to have some. That being the case, we knew we had to plan to not have children, and we decided that I would start taking birth control pills. (sorry, guys, if you've been following this far, only to read those words and go "oh. that's what she meant.")
I don't need to go through every little detail of putting hormones into my body, or how many different pills I tried (and there were many), or all the side-effects of said pills (another sidenote: I am very blessed to have an extremely patient and loving then-fiance-now-husband) - but I will share one side effect with you. I gained weight. A lot of weight. And so the issues that I had been conquering (with self-worth and self-esteem), thanks in part to an amazing, encouraging husband - well, those issues started coming back up. And nagging me. And bothering me. And the little darts Satan was throwing at me found their marks.
Growing up, I was always a stick of a kid. You know, the kind that parents look at and wonder if the child has been fed? Yeah. That was me. (and not due to lack of food, either!!) It was just the body type I had. Going into my teen years, I also discovered that I had the body type that could put on muscle very quickly when working out. And that was wonderful for me. I finally stopped looking like Twiggy:) Something that I didn't figure out until my late teen years/early college years was that I also had the type of body that liked starches. A lot. And starches, they didn't like me. It was easy to gain weight. But, I kept plugging along, working out, walking, doing lots of physical activities. None of this ever really phased me.
Until approximately a year ago. A year ago, I started noticing that I was gaining more weight. Not a lot, just a little at a time, but things started getting a little tighter, and I started watching which tops I could wear out and which I couldn't, things like that. It took a full 9 months for me to realize just how much "a little bit at a time" could amount to, weight-wise. I had to go shopping for some new clothes, and the experience wasn't fun. I normally really enjoy shopping, but I felt ashamed. (Again, thanks to my husband for supporting me through this. He was patient and encouraging, and he always tells me I am beautiful to him, even though my body has changed shape and size.)
So here I was, struggling with my weight. Really struggling. I decided to switch off that pill and in two months tried two more kinds. At that point, it wasn't just my weight that was an issue. My hormones were all over the place and my poor husband was getting the brunt of my (mostly angry) emotions. More than that, my body was having a really hard time adjusting, and I was in a lot of pain for a bit. Throw in our move to Huntsville, add a few months, realize that the weight is getting worse, decide hormones are horrible for me, and stop taking them. That's where I was about two months ago.
Here and now, I'm still really struggling. I'm sitting on the fence again. Balancing between things I know and believe. I know the media is wrong and that women are allowed to be bigger than a size zero (in fact, it's healthy!). I know that Satan is wrong and that I am a child of God, and I am His princess, and that He loves me. But it's still hard. I am constantly fighting. Constantly getting attacked. Constantly attacking myself. Constantly standing up for myself and letting God stand up for me. Back and forth. Back and forth.
In my struggles, I have decided a few things. I have decided what I want to look like for me. I have decided what is healthy for me. I'm trying to work on incorporating more healthy foods into my diet and cutting out unhealthy ones, things that aren't good for me. (Please know that all of this comes from my experience and that I am not judging what others think is good for them). I'm trying to exercise more, to get off the couch and just do it.
I have good days, and I have bad days. Every day I struggle with my weight. Every day I struggle with not distancing myself from people because I am ashamed. Every day I struggle to not be ashamed. I lose those battles all the time. I lost it on Family Day. I mentioned this day because I know that some people were wondering where I was that day, why I wasn't at camp with Geoff and my extended family (back story, my husband works at an outdoor centre where they put on a big event for families on Family Day, for those in Ontario & Alberta that have the holiday). That day I was struggling with my weight, saying I preferred being at home, rather than the truth. One truth is, it's hard to breathe in my winter coat. So it's impossible for me to do winter activities...But yesterday I had a pretty good day. Geoff was off, we went to church, we played board games in the afternoon, and in the evening, I toughed out the cold and the coat issue, and we went for a 45 minute walk.
I'd like to have more good days. I'm walking in faith right now, trying hard to trust God and what He says about me. I'd like to take those little darts Satan's been throwing at me and throw them back at him (and succeed doing it!). Because I have that desire, I've been working on a work-out plan for myself. Coupled with something I'm calling "the vinegar challenge". So for the next little while (or long while), my posts likely be about how I'm doing. How I'm doing fitness-wise, how I'm doing in my faith, how I'm doing in my marriage. (going off the pills has brought more peace to our house).
Why share? 1) I know I'm not the only one out there struggling with self-esteem. 2) I believe that writing this will keep me accountable to myself because I really don't want to fail, and when words are in black-and-white instead of thought-form, it's easier for me. 3) I believe in the power to change. 4) I know that God is already working on my heart and I believe that this will be a testimony of His goodness.
Some afterthoughts: thank you to everyone who has read this. You've held my hand as you've done so, walked with me through part of my journey, and encouraged me. If anyone has any questions for me or you want to hear more of my story, please email me at bright_stars_shine@hotmail.com
Til next time, I leave you with my favourite Scripture: Jeremiah 29:11
I am pretty pleased with the results of my first cake. Tonight I was able to figure out how to use fondant (quite a bit like playdoh) and how to make buttercream icing from scratch. See pic-->
