OCTOBER 2014

  • WARRIOR

    AUTHOR: // CATEGORY: Confidence, Emotional Eating, Family History, Finding our voice, fitness and health, Kids and Body Image, Motivation, The Mental Games

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    I truly thought I was unteachable–that I would never reach a point of happiness with my body. There were just too many dark and twisted thoughts in my brain, too much sadness when I looked in the mirror, and so much obsession of what entered my mouth. I inhaled and exhaled bitterness over how much I had to work to lose a pound or how it came so easily to someone else. I was unteachable, unchangeable, stuck, immoveable, and in other words, a lost cause.

    I remember praying one day. “God, if you could just change this one part of my life, I would be so grateful. Yet, I don’t believe. I don’t believe that it can be changed. I feel as though this is just my burden. It feels impossible.”

    With every part of my soul…

    The soul of the girl that would cry in the mirror…

    The soul of the girl that would pinch the fat on the back of her arm…

    The soul of the girl that got angry at her big thighs…

    The soul of the little girl that was called fatso by her grandmother and by friends on the playground…

    I wanted to find peace…no matter what it looked like.

     

    And strangely even with all of the disbelief, changes started happening, but it wasn’t without hard work. I suppose what God gave me instead of just taking it away, was the ability to fight back. I became a warrior in my own skin. This girl who felt so weak, started to drag swords along with her into the fight, even though she felt tired and inadequate. Somehow by dragging my weapons even though I had no idea how to use them, the stance, the technique, all started to come to me. Call it maturity. Call it wisdom.

    Call it mostly…

    A girl who was simply fed up. Who had despised her body enough and spent too many years unable to help others because she was trapped in a box, full of herself with no ability to see the needs of anyone else.

     

    We all feel ready to give up at some point. We all feel ready to throw up our hands at some point.

     

    It’s not everyday that we feel ready to fight. I grabbed hold of what started to work. I started to feel the change…started to feel the confidence…started to feel the heaviness stripped from my back…somedays it would be tougher than others…somedays I would take steps back…many days I would feel like quitting…but in the end I knew…

    There was too much to do to be defined by an appearance. There were too many people to love to keep focusing on myself and the shallowness of what I was on the outside.

    There were five main ways I started to battle the brokenness…

    *** My eyes were opened to the waste of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years that I was spending on ME. Even though they were self deprecating, they were still taking my focus off of my worth and onto my crap. I couldn’t do anything but feel sorry for myself in those moments and it was a waste of who I was.

    *** My eyes were opened to health. My strength was a blessing and not a curse. I had the opportunity to push my body, mind, and soul beyond the box I had painted around me with a hate covered brush. What I put into my body gave me the energy to help others. A bad mood could be as simple as too much sugar and the way my body feels from that…so when I filled it with food that produced energy then I had more ability to give back.

    *** My eyes were opened to society’s woman that was making me feel inadequate. My body wanted to be strong and not skinny. I took my eyes off of ideals and focused on an ideal for my body. Skinny wasn’t important when I was working out, but neither was a six pack. If I could keep my body moving and feeling healthy, that was important.

    *** My eyes were opened to the obsession of my society–the perfect jeans, the perfect clothes, the tall and slim silhouette, the long straight hair, the skinny thighs, the gap between the thighs, or on the other side, the muscles rippling, the perfectly lean six pack. Either way, our society is obsessed with the look. I had to remind my thoughts of what really mattered. What mattered was my heart. What mattered was that I was taking care of myself. What mattered were others. I started wearing sun dresses and staying away from jeans…my thighs were better that way.

    *** I thought of my two little girls and what I wanted them to see as I raised them. I wanted them to see a woman with enough time to love on everyone because she wasn’t so obsessed with herself. I wanted them to see a woman who praises the body for what it can do rather than berates it for what it can’t do. I wanted them to see the beauty that is in this world not the beauty of a face.

     

    You are not impossible. You have more to give to the world than just a heap of bad thoughts and self pity. You have enough strength it just has to be dug out from under the crap people have shoveled onto you.

    Worth is yours upon birth, not upon perfection. Take it, find it, uncover it, or discover it.

    Nothing is impossible.

    XO,

    Tessa