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To My Eating Struggle: A Heartfelt Goodbye
Dear Eating Struggle,
This is my way of saying goodbye to you, much like a “Dear John” letter. I think it’s finally time we part ways.
It’s not about you; it’s about me. You see, you’re not the one on the brink of losing everything—I am. You thrive on loss while I’m the one experiencing it. I’m the one who’s losing connections, my sense of self, relationships, and my purpose. I’m losing the person I was, the person I could be, and the one I truly deserve to be. I find myself lost in you.
You don’t see the flaws in the mirror; you see opportunities to control me. Every little imperfection, every curve, every place where skin meets skin, is just fuel for you. It’s me who allows my reflection to be tainted by your influence. I see the flaws because I feel them. It’s like I’m wearing a jacket that’s too tight—a constant restriction—but it still covers me, keeping me hidden. I keep it zipped to avoid feeling exposed.
You don’t lie awake at night obsessing over meaningless numbers—that’s all me. I’m the one who counts every single calorie, who has twisted the saying “Less is more” into something unrecognizable. I’m the one who measures my worth in units of loss, adding to you while subtracting from myself.
You don’t struggle to find joy in life’s little moments. You can’t seek happiness because you don’t know what it is. You are the void, and I am the one whose spirit is fading away, just like my body. I let the fleeting moments of motherhood drift by, like dust motes in sunlight—always just out of reach. I’ve become empty by letting you fill me.
You’re not the one who’s starving; you thrive on my insecurities and anxieties. You feed on my desire for control. I’m the one who is truly hungry—for peace, self-acceptance, and joy. I crave the simple pleasure of enjoying one of the cupcakes I made with my kids. I keep choosing you over my happiness, over my family.
You don’t cry yourself to sleep, promising tomorrow will be different. You don’t wake up feeling defeated because you know nothing has changed. You don’t hate who you’ve become.
But you also don’t hear the sweet voice calling “Mama” as I step out of bed. You don’t feel the joy of being tackled by my little ones as I pour milk into their sippy cups. You don’t flip pancakes while their laughter fills the air, or smile when they call for “Toodles” because they need help with their toys. You don’t experience the warmth of my youngest offering me a pancake and sweetly asking, “You want some, Mama?”
And it’s not you who is finally realizing that I deserve joy, laughter, and to dance in the living room with my kids, just as I am. I deserve to be called Mama. I deserve better. And those wonderful boys who made me a mother definitely deserve better too.
So, Eating Struggle, it’s not you who gets to continue living. You have nothing to live for outside of this toxic relationship. It’s me. And I’m ready to move on from you.
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In summary, it’s time to say goodbye to the eating struggle that has held me back for too long. I deserve a life filled with joy, connection, and love.