I’ve been staring at this blank page for days… or honestly months. A lot has happened since I wrote here last. I’ve written here and there but never published anything. I’ve written a lot in the notes graveyard of my iPhone. I don’t know why that’s easier. Actually, I do know why…the notes section of my phone is private and no one will read it. I’m deathly afraid of writing something that someone will read… yet here I am writing it (insert hands up emoji here).
I started yet another note this morning and realized that what I was typing there, should be typed up here instead. No one will benefit from not sharing shit. I’m not saying I have anything to offer of any real value but I just think sharing our stories, our struggles, our triumphs..it might help someone. I know when I read other peoples stories, it helps me realize we’re all in the same boat. Life is fucking hard, no need to do it alone.
This morning I took a peloton class that really resonated with the body image issues I have. Christine D’Ercole did a 45 minute climb ride that spoke straight to my heart. She talked about not trying to fit into anyone else’s box and she said that we are so much bigger than someones size small pants. That last part stuck with me. I’ve been on this weightless journey for about a year now and I can’t get over just being obsessed with a number on the scale. When I hopped off that bike, I felt so empowered. It was a hard class, I was dripping sweat but I felt strong and beautiful. I grabbed my coffee and like every morning, I wandered over to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I hop on the scale every morning before getting into the shower. The routine never changes, so that’s what I did… and there was that number again… not the number I wanted to see… not even a bad number… just not THEE ideal number. It’s not even a number that makes sense, I simply picked this number when I started getting into shape and I am struggling to get there. I don’t know why I think this magical number will make me happy, I know once I hit that “goal weight”, I’ll just move on to the next number… is there ever an end in sight?
How do we break this cycle? How do we move on from hating our bodies to just being happy in them. Why is it so easy to cheer on someone else but beat ourselves up for the same exact things. I really don’t want to be this way, I want to just love my body for all she’s been through. I mean I’m super competitive and I’m constantly trying to be better than yesterday, but when will I also just acknowledge that it’s okay to be in this space at this time and I don’t have anything to prove to anyone else? I don’t really have anything to prove to myself. I’m trying my best and that should be enough right? We are all enough no matter how we show up. Existing should be enough – but it never feels enough, at least not for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be totally content. I can settle for that though, I enjoy a challenge and I like having goals. Hopefully I can just harness that motivation and energy into being more positive for myself and learning how to give myself some grace.
do you have any tips on how to “actually” love yourself more?
<3 gc