14, 110 pounds. Still unsure, but now I want boys to think I’m pretty
15 through 17- 130 pounds of insecurity. Some things never change with age. I want to be invisible again.
18- 145 pounds of heart brokenness and high school graduation. Free spirited and a heavy snacker.
19- 200 pounds. Never ending parade of stress **2017 Context: You had vitamin deficencies, a hormone imbalence and just moved to college after being sheltered for 18 years. Weight gain is normal and okay**. I don’t want to be invisible, just left alone when I read outside.
~~
Over Thanksgiving break last year, I had a candid discussion with my older cousin- she already went through college and even though I was so young I remember her mom and herself always talking about her weight (*2017 Context: how sad is it that we talk about people's weights all the time, in front of small impressionable children to boot??*). We had wonderful conversations and the advice that stuck with me still is: “The food isn’t the problem, Rachel. Why are you eating the food?”
I eat food to survive. I eat because food is good. I eat because I don’t feel silently judged by my father, my grandmother. I’m all alone here in college, only my skinny running roommate makes remarks, all good natured I assure you. I can handle her comments.
As I researched, poured over pinterest, read every article I could find on beating the freshman 15, or freshman fifty-five… I focused on the food. I made lists, made plans, found pretty print outs so I could track food, water, exercise… this focus on food drove me insane. And the shame I experienced when I failed to follow all my beautiful plans was insurmountable.
I’ve always struggled with letting go of shame. But this was crippling. Worse than I’ve ever remembered.
After a long conversation with my mentor- the talk wasn’t really even about weight, but about struggles and how they are affecting me- I went to bed feeling like I lost twenty pounds! Ha. Oh, is that not funny? If I don’t make comments about my weight, someone else will.
Anyway, this morning as I slumped into the bathroom and closed my eyes as I passed the giant mirror, it dawned on me. Why have I been focusing on food all these months? Food isn’t the problem, remember Rachel? The problem is the way you’re not handling stress. The way you aren’t talking to God about what you are letting consume you which brings you to consuming everything in sight. (*2017 Context: you weren't "letting" trauma and stress "consume" you. You did not have healthy coping skills for processing them. Past Rachel, I'm so sorry you didn't have more self-compassion).
Standing over the sink, tooth brush with a shmear of toothpaste already applied, I confessed. I candidly asked for forgiveness for excluding God in my healthy eating plans. Yeah I’d repented when I binged, but I’d repent for gluttony- not lack of trust that everything will be okay. I forgot God has got my back and only expects my best. (*2017 Context: Jesus fucking christ. I just want to hug past me. This whole paragraph is so scary shamey.)
Now I try and ask myself "why" before eating and I watch my portions. I'm in the habit of eating more than I need to even when I'm not stressed. There hasn't been a change on the scale yet but my heart has definitely experienced a giant weight loss. And the best thing I've learned through all this? My weight is my business. If you don't like it, how on earth does it affect you? (2017 Context: FUCK YES GIRL. I completely agree with this last sentence.)