Sometimes I forget I’m a big girl. I’m not talking big bones — I need to lose about 120 pounds. Yet, I find myself smiling at an attractive man or walking with a little too much pride or (God help me) even swaggering and thinking I look good.
I can see my reflection easily enough every time I look in the mirror or pass by a shiny window with the latest fashion displayed— only it isn’t what I feel on the inside. And as I stand looking at little, cute, attractive clothes I realize they aren’t for me — sew them all together to make one big one and it still wouldn’t fit me.
I, from the inside looking out, am fun and bubbly — sexy and confident — able to go through life happy, and for the most part this is true, but then I ask myself — “why am I big?” if these things are really true — with NO lies or defensive measures to protect me attached to them, then WHY AM I BIG?
I love food and eat because I enjoy it. Also, I eat emotionally. I eat when I’m happy, sad, bored, frustrated, anguished, nervous, seemingly satisfied and for every other emotion I can think of. This is why I’m big or at least this is the excuse I tell myself everytime I think too long or hard on the subject.
Losing weight is the beautiful side effect of this journey — finding out the “why” is my purpose because without knowing “why” I eat, the cycle will not be broken. How can a seemingly adjusted person, whom everyone thinks is on top of things, be so out of control?
I’ll let you know when I find out.