Today I was feeling particularly angsty about eating. I felt exactly like I did the day this revolution started in January. I felt sad. I felt fat. I felt disappointed in myself. I feel bruised and vunerable. And what is my response to that? It is the urge to eat, the urge to medicate with food, the urge to give up and say my guy loves me no matter what and my daughters don’t care.
But thank goodness the Less of me side of me fought back shouting back at her, “Oh no you don’t!” I forced myself to sit down and write through it. Good old fashion pen to paper and started off with “what the hell?” I talked back to the voice in my head and asked why? Why in one day can the work of months and weeks just be erased?
And this is where this story will change; the longer I blog the better I get at recognizing what I am willing to share and what I am not. This unfortunately is a memory too painful and hard to place out in the public. And most of that is because it could hurt others. I really try hard to keep my story one of a journey to goodness and love. But sometimes the memory cuts a little too deep and is a little too real and has the potential to bring anything other than love and I won’t do that. I flat out refuse.
But by remembering, I have unleashed the beast of anger and found the courage to begin working through it. But it was this moment that forever gave the morsels that end up in my mouth the emotional tie they have to my heart. That also means in this realization I have found the key to overcome. To let go of this emotional weight and find a way to be satisfied not by food but within myself. I heal me, others don’t. Love will win.