I Dislike What Emotional Eating Has Done to My Body, But I’m Ready to Heal Myself

home insemination Kit

A strange thing happened to me this year: I gained weight. Not just a few pounds here and there, but a significant amount. I’m nearing 200 pounds, and at 5 feet 6 inches, that’s definitely not something I’m proud of. But before you judge me for my feelings about my body, let me explain.

I’m not here to sugarcoat it—whether we call it fat, overweight, or even “fluffy,” my current state is a reality I have to face. I’m about 45 to 50 pounds above what’s considered healthy for me. At this weight, I can feel the strain on my internal organs, and I’ve started experiencing issues like carpal tunnel syndrome and fatigue from simple activities. This is not a path I want to continue down, especially when I know it could lead to serious health problems like diabetes or heart disease.

To clarify, I’m not shaming anyone for their size or choices. I have no judgment about what others do; a person’s weight doesn’t dictate my feelings or love for them. This is about me and how I feel in my own skin.

Right now, I can state with certainty that I’m uncomfortable in my body. Bending over to tie my shoes has become a challenge, and I find myself avoiding mirrors more often than not. My clothes are tight and unflattering, leaving me frustrated as I rummage through my closet for something that fits. I’ve had to dig out the “larger clothes,” and believe me, that’s not a fun experience. I’ve even started avoiding social situations because I’m self-conscious about my appearance.

I realize now that I haven’t been kind to myself, and that’s something I want to change. I know how I got here: I turned to food to cope with stress and pain, indulging in doughnuts and sweets to fill emotional gaps. Eating became a way to distract myself from the anxiety that loomed over me. But despite my efforts, that emptiness never seems to be filled. It’s like a bottomless pit, always craving more, no matter how much I consume.

Clearly, this isn’t a sustainable approach. The thought of dieting sends chills down my spine. I fear losing my coping mechanism and the pain that might resurface. But I’ve come to realize that food isn’t healing me; it’s harming me. I need to confront my tangled emotions and tackle them head-on, like a mechanic fixing a broken-down car. It’s time to take apart the mess and figure out what’s really going on.

So here’s my new mission: I’m committing to myself and embracing the parts of me that I’ve neglected. It’s time to rediscover the strong, capable person I know is buried beneath all this extra weight. When fear creeps in, I’ll channel that energy into action. I’m not on a quest to be skinny; I’m aiming for healing. And that’s a journey I can get behind.

For additional support on this path, you might find insights in other posts about home insemination, such as this one at Home Insemination Kit. If you’re navigating a similar journey, I recommend checking out Make a Mom, an authority on this topic. For comprehensive resources on fertility, UCSF’s IVF page is an excellent choice.

In summary, I’m on a mission to heal my relationship with food and my body. Emotional eating has led me to a place of discomfort, but it’s time to take accountability and start my journey toward wellness and self-love.