I woke up the other morning and noticed I’d lost weight.
I don’t weigh myself anymore, I could just feel it. I’ve been running, slowing down while I eat, eating the foods I want to eat, including bread (which I had secretly been avoiding… But of course, once I let myself eat it, I didn’t really want that much.)
When I realized I was thinning out, part me got excited, but another part of me felt immense dread. Dread? Yes, dread. I realized there was a part of me that was terrified to be thin.
Standing there, I closed my eyes and got curious with this part of me. All I heard was, “If you lose weight, you won’t have any excuse not to play big.”
WOW. I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe what I’d heard. I closed them again and got more curious with this part. I realized underneath it, there was a belief that as long as I had a little extra weight, I could use it as an excuse not to really put myself out there. This part of me was convinced that people wouldn’t listen to me unless I was perfect-looking, so as long as I wasn’t perfect-looking, I could continue to play small.
Any extra weight I’d been holding has been my body’s loving attempt to protect me from sharing the parts of myself that I’d rather hide. Like that I really hated myself for a long time, that I was verbally abused growing up, and I was convinced that I was stupid and that something was wrong with me. I took it all out on my body, starved myself, and was addicted to laxatives for 10 years, abusing them every single day. I had a breast reduction when I was 22 because I felt so ashamed of my sexuality and so wounded from love, and I was trapped in a binge eating-drinking-shopping loop for years. I barely ever got my period and felt extreme fear around experiencing pleasure.
It all really sucked, but I got out of it. I’m on the other side, and I HAVE to tell people what’s possible because if I don’t, what kind of person would I be?
And yet, there’s a part of me that would rather not share my story. A part of me that would rather stay in bed and read, or get a job at a desk, or run away and live in the woods and grow my food.
All those things sound SO appealing right now. But I know they’re coming from fear. Fear of being seen, of being known, of being judged. Of not being liked. And I know that my body is simply trying to protect me, giving me an ingenious way to avoid having to expose myself—a couple extra pounds.
It’s amazing how the body works to protect us, and how much we can shift within ourselves just by getting curious with the parts of us that are afraid. Next time you notice fear, stress, or anxiety, instead of reaching for a bag of chips, get curious with the part of you that’s scared. Without judgement, ask yourself: what is the fear? Where does the fear live in my body? How might my body be trying to protect me in that moment through wanting to eat?
The journey of coming home to the body is a beautiful one. Through it, we realize just how unconditionally loving this body suit is. Through this journey, we realize how much this piece of earth supports us in ways even our conscious mind may not yet know.
Sending so much love and gratitude to your body suit for being such a good friend to you on your journey,