I am fighting a battle I shouldn't, that none of us should.
I battle my body. I battle my head. I fight the idea that I should look a certain way, that I should be a certain body style.
I fought it before I lost weight. I fought it while I lost the weight. I fight it still.
I shouldn't. One regret, one lost opportunity: to appreciate myself in total, as I am, all through the process. I appreciated the smaller numbers, the shrinking sizes, the diagnosis of lymphedema (it was an explanation, a reason for some of the things). But I didn't appreciate my body as it was. As it is.
It is not a perfect body, and one only need see the hanging, sagging skin as one sign of that. Internally, there are broken pieces. I've thought much about the damage that was done in my earlier years, as I was packing on the pounds quite joyfully. I think about how it affected my growth (and not just in an outwardly expanding way), how it impacted my various bodily systems as I continued to gain weight exponentially in my teen years, especially. I think about how it impacts me now. I could "what if" things all day long but it wouldn't change "what is." So I sigh with a tinge of sorrow and move forward. It's all I can do.
I want to learn to stop fighting it. I am struggling with weight control right now, especially more it seems in the last few months, and this last week has been odd too. It is like my body is hanging on for dear life to something and if it has to take some pounds hostage to get me to notice, it will. How do I tell my body that I'm not trying to fight it, honestly? That all I want is for us to come to an understanding, an agreement, a way to work together to get back to a healthy place. A place where we can appreciate each other.
Hey body ..... Truce?