Plain

They tell you that losing weight won't fix you, but as a girl that's always been fat, I didn't really believe them. [Side note: Have you ever noticed, it's always the skinny people who say stuff like that?]

What's worse than being fat, I thought? What's worse than looking like I do now? What's worse than taking up more space than everyone else, yet still feeling totally invisible?

Lots of things, it turns out. But it's interesting how easy it is to wrap those toxic thoughts up and carry them with you wherever you go.

I have lost forty pounds.

Forty. Pounds.

That's a 5-gallon jug of liquid.

A microwave.

A medium-sized Border Collie.

A toddler.

I thought that losing that weight meant instant confidence would fill me and love would immediately find me and my dream job would fall in my lap and suddenly I'd feel good about myself and look great in everything I wore and my money problems would disappear. How I came to this stupid, skewed logic is unclear, but-- spoiler alert-- that's hardly what has happened.

I am, however, dating an amazing man. He likes me as I am right now, and I'm having a really hard time wrapping my mind around it. He is one of those people who eats mindfully and healthfully, so I find it easy to continue toward my goal of losing forty more pounds when I'm around him. He encourages me to be the best version of myself, but appreciates exactly who I am right now. And he never picks on me for being a vegetarian. Quite the opposite, actually. Having his support has been incredible and invaluable to me as I push forward in my journey.

Still, that tiny voice in my head says that I don't deserve him... because I'm still big. Because my butt isn't big enough. Because my arms are still flabby. Because I have no muscle tone in my thighs. Because my boobs are so big, they make me feel frumpy due to poor posture. None of my clothes fit and I'm breaking out from stress. How could he even want to be seen with me? How could he even look at me without his stomach turning?

These thoughts-- the same thoughts I had when I was forty pounds heavier-- are still there, like ghosts.

In my yoga and meditation practices, I try to practice radical self love and acceptance for where I am in all aspects of my life. I try to honor the journey that has brought me here, and the lessons I'm learning as I walk onward. I think, though, that shedding these inner demons will be significantly harder than shedding the pounds.

Old habits die hard I suppose.


Art by Sophie Rambert

Struggle in three parts

FOOD, WEIGHT, AND BODY IMAGE:

I've had the most stressful month at work and turned immediately to my two most trusted friends, Ben and Jerry, to get me through. I skipped the gym, drank wine and no water, and ate pizza and burgers and fries and hot wings and cookies. So many cookies. My brother tells me that I deserve a piece of pizza now and then, which is like saying an alcoholic deserves a swig once in a while. One day I will begin treating food as the addiction it is, and recovery will begin. After all, I hit rock bottom a while ago and have been rolling around on its dirt floor ever since.

My weight has been an issue since I was young. Some people have stringy hair, some people have bad teeth or major acne. My weight is the cross I bear. I am totally on board with the I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR, CURVES AND STUFF mantra and all that jazz. I do think women with curves are beautiful. I think women without curves are beautiful, too.

Before you say that I am worth more than my weight, please know that I both know and agree with you. But still, this is a struggle for me, when it takes me so long to get ready in the morning because my skin doesn't fit, much less my clothing. I have no real resolutions, except to just keep trying. And try I will.

DEPRESSION AND MENTAL ILLNESS:

Just the other day I told my good friend that it was too soon to tell a new guy friend about my struggles with depression and anxiety. That afternoon Robin Williams was found dead of an apparent suicide in his home, and I realized just how important it is for people in your immediate realm to be aware of your struggle.

I have nothing to add to this conversation that hasn't been added via Facebook or Twitter or even Buzzfeed, except to say that I am just one of the ten percent of Americans that is currently being treated for depression. I wouldn't be scared to tell him if I had a heart condition, so I'm not sure why it would be too soon to tell him I have a brain condition.

FAILURE AND PERSEVERANCE:

Yesterday a coworker gave me this riddle by Albert Einstein and challenged me to give her the answer. After about an hour of drawing diagrams and starting over a few times, I finally solved it. I spent sixty-ish minutes telling myself that I could figure it out, but also beating myself up for it taking so long. That old familiar feeling.

I hate failing at anything. I hate it when things don't come easily, and roller derby brings out all of my insecurities more than anything else in my life. I hate it that I'm not bouting yet. I hate it that I still look like a toddler learning to walk when do a tomahawk stop.  I hate it that I still haven't passed my final endurance assessment. But I really have to take a step back and realize that the stride skills I was working on just a month ago have become second nature, and my crosses (while they still don't feel natural) are becoming more fluid, and my stance is becoming wider and stronger. So progress is being made, but it doesn't look like I expected it would look by now.

But there is no room for my insecurity on the track. There is no room for my insecurity at the gym. There is no room for my insecurity in my relationships. And it is for this reason that these three things are totally intertwined, so I guess I'll roll on.