You know what’s interesting? Each weight loss attempt I’ve made has come from a place of love – or, lack thereof. I couldn’t seem to find someone to love me, because I didn’t love myself. The crazy part is how long it took me to get to that place, to finally realizing why they supposedly didn’t love me. 26 years. 26 years of thinking I was fat and nobody would ever love me because of my body. Now here I am, starting from square one (again) after realizing that my body wasn’t the reason they didn’t like me. It was the reason I didn’t like me.
Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like my body. But I like me. I laugh at every misstep I took to get here and am proud of the person I am now. I’ve come to the conclusion that all I can do is my personal best every day. As long as I accomplish that, I will continue liking me.
My body, on the other hand, is a work in progress. Under construction. My relationship with my body is also a work in progress. I’ve grown to respect and appreciate my body in ways I never had before. I listen to it and am beginning to heed its advice, but I don’t love it quite yet. But guess what? I’ve decided that’s ok. Because as long as my body and I continue this relationship, this team effort of me feeding it and moving it, it will continue to change and react and tell me what it needs. Then one day, probably in the near future, we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus moment, my body and I. And I’ll decide I love it because it’s loving me back.
And so, because my body and I are in a very productive relationship and because I am beginning this journey yet again, I’m posting. Call it a side project. Call it keeping me accountable, in a much different way than before. Whatever you want to call it, I’m back and I will be better than ever.