This past year brought about an unexpected change for me: I gained a significant amount of weight. Not just a few vanity pounds, but a solid increase that has me approaching the 200-pound mark on my 5-foot-6-inch frame. I’m not here to sugarcoat it; I am uncomfortable in my own skin. Before anyone jumps to conclusions, let me explain.
Whether we call it fat, overweight, or simply out of shape, I believe that being honest about my body is not self-deprecating. Currently, I am around 45 to 50 pounds beyond what is healthy for me. This extra weight puts strain on my internal organs and has led to issues like carpal tunnel and excessive fatigue during ordinary activities. Continuing down this path could lead to serious health problems like diabetes or heart disease, and I know I need to change.
I want to clarify that I have no intention of body-shaming anyone. I respect everyone’s personal choices regarding their bodies, and I don’t judge others based on their weight. My concern lies solely with how I feel; my physical reality is not working for me at the moment. I can say with certainty that I am not at ease in my current state. Simple tasks like bending over to tie my shoes have become a struggle, and my clothes are tight and unflattering.
The frustration doesn’t stop there. My wardrobe seems to have been depleted of anything that fits or makes me feel good about myself. I find myself rummaging through my closet for something comfortable, often resorting to what I call my “fat clothes.” I’ve also started avoiding social situations because I feel self-conscious about my appearance. I realize that I’ve lost touch with the body that carries me through life, and that is unacceptable to me.
I know how I arrived at this point and I am ready to take responsibility for it. Over the past year, I’ve turned to food as a way to cope with stress and emotional pain. I sought comfort in doughnuts and sweets, trying to fill a void that never seemed to disappear. No matter how much I indulged, that feeling of emptiness always lingered, like a bottomless pit craving more.
Recognizing that this method of coping isn’t working is the first step. The truth is, food has not only failed to heal me, but it has also hurt me. I need to confront my emotions and examine the underlying issues, much like taking apart a broken machine to see what’s wrong. It’s time I dive into this emotional chaos and face it directly, whether that means repairing or improving my situation.
So, here’s my goal moving forward: I’m committing to myself and embracing the parts of me that I’ve neglected. I want to reconnect with the strong, capable person who lies beneath these layers of extra weight. When fear arises, I’ll focus on taking action rather than retreating. My aim isn’t to become skinny; it’s to achieve healing, and that’s a goal I can wholeheartedly pursue.
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In summary, while I’ve faced challenges with emotional eating and body image, I am determined to prioritize my health and well-being. My journey to heal is just beginning, and I’m ready to embrace it with open arms.