But Mommy, You're Strong!

There is nothing anyone could have said. Nothing anyone could have done to change my mind. I was fat, not worth a lot of conversation or even time, and most of how I behaved or performed was all wrong. This is where my worth and identity rested, and the value I held in my life. Which, now that I have a daughter, I would never envision for her story. Her worth and purpose are nowhere near connected to her weight.

This month is Eating Disorder Awareness month and even though I was never truly diagnosed as having one, I most certainly had one. And I'm sure someone you know was just like me. I was not healthy...in any sense of the word. Not mentally or physically. I was starving myself; not just sustenance, but bread of life.

I had friends. I had a boyfriend, and I was a straight A student. There was no convincing me I was successful, and beautiful. My family and friends did nothing but TRY to lift me up. No one tore me down; it was all a mind game that I had played in my own head. I'm sure culture had something to do with it. Especially the dance culture of long slender muscles and petite persons to partner. I'm certain that my ability to be a deep feeler was part of the scorn. I looked internally for hope and would make lies become truth. I looked externally for hope and affirmation, and received it graciously. But the voices of affirmation that once lit a smile would soon fade the next minute a mirror or picture would surface. The image I had contrived, burned into my mind, was outside the image of what beauty God created. I'm not sure what changed. There are only two specific "turning points" I can truly remember having any significance in the healing of my mind.

First, was when my new to the school dance teacher took notice of me. Not just my talent as a dancer, but also the glances I gave myself in the mirror as I sucked in my stomach as much as I could, and tucked in my God given derriere as far as possible. My meandering eyes across the room looking for approval, casting self-judgement, and tallying vast amounts of comparison points. 

He confronted me to say, "I think this is a good weight for you...You should not go any further than this. I need you to be strong and you can't be strong if you go past this." What did he just say? Did he say I had reached my goal or I had gone too far? Either way, I got a noticeable mention.

This is how twisted I was. I loved that he noticed me. I could have taken the attention and tried to run a different direction, but I didn't. I'll share why in a bit.

The second memory was at a Youth Group night. We had a counselor come and speak to the youth whom specialized in eating disorders. There was a checklist of "you might have an eating disorder if you can answer yes to more than 7 out of the 20 questions." I scored a whopping 12. My friend looked at me and said, "You need to go talk to her!" I never spoke with her, but yet again this was a seed planted. 

*side note: that Youth Group provided so much support and safety for me. Not to say we didn't get into trouble and do "bad things." But those people, adults, counselors, and friends, helped pull me out of a lot. If you can find a group for your child, DO. IT. If you don't know where to look, pray for God to send your child one and be intentional about stewarding that relationship.

Both of these memories are just that - memories. Not necessarily big momentous rock bottoms that changed me forever. But obviously big enough for me to remember. I think I was coming out of a season where my hormones - high as they might have been - were regulating themselves (which could only have been God designed). And for whatever reason, my confidence slooooooooowly but suuuuuuurely began to show it's face. And I found myself again.

My senior year, my mind flipped and I kind of decided, I was worth people's time. I fully believe it had a lot to do with my relationship with Jesus. It was beginning to blossom. My then boyfriend's mother (now Mother-In-Law) was open and frank enough with me to have hard questions and explain gracefully, patiently, and fervently what a relationship with Jesus looked like. Between my parents stewarding my church relationships and my husband's family with a shepherding heart, my full identity began to be laid before my feet. A path that seemed so dark seemed so much lighter and joyful.

I can't tell you everything that happened from then until now - that is a novella. Full of work and a continued path back to Him. A story full of abandonment of a self I had adopted and then a full return of the joyful child I once was. IN my heart I never want to go back to that space. The air was riddled with angst and pain. A pit where the floor always seemed to crumble as I took my next steps. But then there was the moment where Jesus so beautifully reached in, his light permeating the darkness, and lifting me out like no one else could.

What I can tell you is my framework for the phrase "healthy and fit" takes on a completely different meaning. No more is it associated to these: skinny, flat tummy, doesn't eat, judgment, comparison, pain. Now this phrase means: adventure, challenge, strong, heart pumping, life, overcomer, fresh foods, sexy, fun! Plus so much more. To me being healthy means...

• strong enough to help those around me.
• eating meals full of vegetables and loads of color.
• running farther and faster than my 10 yr old to challenge him.
• being able to play soccer in the backyard with my kiddos.
• the ability to enjoy a glass of wine and a delicious dessert that I've prepared or you know, a hostess cupcake, and it doesn't send me into a tailspin of regret and shame.
  
• looking at pictures of myself and seeing the beauty even if the pants size is different.
• looking at a picture and not obsessing over comparing myself to others in the picture.
• loving to be active with my husband and children.
• taking naps and not obsessing over the "lazy time" - it's now rephrased as "reset time."
  
• being comfortable with the skin and body that God designed for me and moving it in confidence.
• not weighing myself everyday.
• loving the body that birthed 3 beautiful babies. 
• hearing comments from others (good and bad - however they may be intended) about my appearance and not letting it go to my head.
  

Being fit is so much more than the calories that go into your body. Or keeping calories from your body. It's about fueling yourself and working the muscles. My MIND is renewed and restored and it shows in the fruit produced.  I have joy in the knowledge that my mind and body are moving at fully capacity. That I use the creation of myself to the fullness of it's intended purpose. My stomach will never be the same as it was in highschool - because kids, beautiful, close in age kids. But also because it is not realistic. 

 

I never want to go back to the way I was. Never not once, nope. There is freedom in walking in your fullness.

I stand in the mirror dressing myself with my daughter's watchful eyes and ears as she sits on the edge of my bed discussing all her thoughts. I am accustomed to sucking in my tummy if visible, pulling my insides to the back of my spine with as much elasticity as a worn out rubber band. As I slip my sweatshirt over my head I hear her words, "But mommy, you are so strong!" I smile, give her a slight kiss on the cheek and say, "Yes, yes, I am!"