Well I think I’m finally “cured.” It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve obsessed about my weight/appearance. I have to say that I finally feel good/great about myself.
Since I started this whole process in late March I’ve lost 25 lbs. I’m not exactly at my goal weight, but I’m only 10 lbs shy and if I remained where I am today I think I would still be happy about it.
Why the sudden transformation you inquire? Well unfortunately it came through the affirmation of two of the men in my life that have caused me the most strife. My father, who if I were to actually be honest with myself probably drove me to my eating disorder in high school, (I mean who tells a fragile teenager that they’re fat and can’t have seconds? especially when they’re not) called and left me a voicemail two weeks ago telling me how great I looked (my mom sent him a picture I sent to her of the expensive dress I bought) and how proud he was of me, how I looked better than in high school, just generally expressing such enthusiasm about how wonderful I apparently looked. I have to say when I heard the message in addition to a giant beaming smile I actually cried (and I don’t cry) because he finally said everything I have ever wanted him to say.
Then this past weekend in Chicago, M, who my relationship with can’t be described as anything but difficult, told me how beautiful I was, and that he’s always thought I looked beautiful and sexy, etc. I don’t know why (perhaps because our relationship is difficult) I really really needed his affirmation. And to know that he (still) found me attractive gave me the boost that I needed. Especially since amongst other reasons feeling like he didn’t last fall drove me to contemplate (and try) bulimia again until I remembered, “Oh yeah, this sucks and is terrible for you.”
However this isn’t about them, having their “approval” has made me realize that I actually feel really healthy, and stronger than I’ve ever felt before, and I think I look great. So even though it took a HE to get me here in the end I finally gave myself the acceptance I had been denying myself.
I’m so proud of myself for not only sticking to exercise for so long where I’ve never been able to before, but really challenging myself. Stepping out from my comfort zone and going to a yoga class by myself, pushing myself harder than I’ve ever done before, and actually thinking about what I eat and not eating to fulfill some sort of emotional need.
I could have given up so many times and I really wanted to. I can think of countless times running on the treadmill pushing back tears because I didn’t want to do this so much, but I kept going. I didn’t give up. And that in and of itself is the great achievement.
I hate how this post makes me feel so selfish and conceited talking about how “wonderful” I am. I hate compliments as much as I crave them, and I can’t stand tooting my own horn or even vaguely skimming the line of being self-absorbed but I just had to put this out there, for me.