Arguments with the Mirror

November 18, 2014

I've noticed that the past 2 weeks that I've been working out more I've been spending less time in the mirror, all stemming from my being fed up with all the things I've put myself through over the years.

I guess the old me and I broke up....

The last time I remember being thin was at the age of 4. I was so thin that my Step-dad gave me the nickname Pee-Wee, which no one stopped calling me, until I was an adult, an overweight, adult, talk about awkward. I started gaining weight around 2nd grade and I was very aware of it. That's when it started, my arguments with the mirror. I was very aware of my weight, of my body, and that something wasn't right about it. It seemed like if I wasn't sure that I was fat people found the need to remind me. While most kids were praying to Santa Claus for toys, I was praying to God to not be fat. It was sad. I remember always feeling sad inside. I pretended, for my mother. I didn't want to burden her. She worked so hard. I remember telling myself that my body image issues needed to be something I internalized and never expressed to anyone, ever.

As a present day 30 year old woman , I just want to go to that little girl and hug her. For every time she argued with the mirror, for everytime she cried, begged, and pleaded, to be accepted and loved for who she was, I just want to console her and tell her that at some point its going to be ok. I realized that for over 23 years I've battled with myself about who I should be and how I should look. That has become mentally taxing and emotionally draining.

I remember being diagnosed as a diabetic at 20 years old. I didn't take it seriously because it was one of the most depressing moments in my life. As if I didn't already feel inadequate, being a 20 year old with Type II diabetes, meant for me that I had failed, miserably at life. Dramatic, yes. But to understand that mindset, is to understand the space that I was in, and had been in for most of my life, of feeling defeated. When everyone thought I was drunk in college, my blood levels were probably just extremely elevated, or I was also drunk, who knows lol! I didn't take it seriously until I became pregnant, and had to take insulin, it was scary, and painful. I worried throughout my entire pregnancy and so my diet was in tip-top shape, minus all my spinach dip and half cooked hamburger cravings, amongst other things. Once I had my son I began to spiral out of control again. Not taking medication, not seeing a doctor, not exercising, and interestingly enough not losing or gaining any weight.

But I was still sad. I lived life with this image in my head of who or what I should look like and why that would never happen. I remember wanting to be THAT girl, whoever she was at any given point in time, that society applauded for being the most "beautifuliest" girl in the world. I remember at some points in times feeling like I got dumped by boys because I was a diabetic, which made me a weak woman, and boys don't like weak women. I'm not sure who told me these things, or if was from all those early years of being the loner fat kid. Your mind sort of just travels in the moments, and an idle mind can think itself into the darkest of corners. I played on people's insults of me by being even harsher to myself. Whatever they said about me, I said it to myself, every time I looked in the mirror!

What an exhausting life. I didn't know what sexy meant, I've always just had this awkward body that I was insecure about and didn't know what to do with. You never forget people's words and how they treat you. Those things stuck with me to the point that I started growing a shell that was unbreakable, I thought I was protecting myself from being hurt but I was becoming a monster. The shell is SLOWLY breaking as I move past those things that hurt me.

Now, as I grow and age, my focus is unraveling all those insecurities that I've developed over the last 23 years. If someone doesn't like my little muffin top, then shame on them for not seeing the opportunity to enjoy a little chocolate cupcake LOL! Seriously, my health is my priority. I want to be active. I want to travel the world, I want to live! LIVE in every aspect of the word. But that takes work. That requires my presence. I need to be mentally present to make decisions about to getting my health in order.

The mirror is no longer my enemy but a reminder, a brief check-in, that I'm ok, that even if no one can see what's behind that reflection, I'm still there. Even if people can't accept my skinny legs and tiny butt, it doesn't change that I have the ability to make people laugh until they cry, just by being me. It doesn't change how deeply I love myself, or how much of a companion I am to my child, or that I pride myself in talking to or seeing my aging parents more than three times a week, or that I'm just me, not for sell, but for certain I'm me.

For the first time in the last ten years this past summer, I got my blood sugar levels under control, that meant also controlling my blood pressure. My doctor spent almost a year preaching to me about not wanting me to put me on insulin, that she trusted me to myself to do right and get it together, I resisted her, but finally, I did it. It felt amazing to do something for myself that could potentially prolong my life and now more than ever its important for me to keep going.

I'm excited about being myself. I've had a pretty painful journey but the past is no longer and I am here, just me, and my mirror, I'm here!

Journeys Through Life: