Wobble
I’m really feeling the strong urge to throw in the towel.
There, I said it.
I’ve now been fully “in” on intuitive eating for over four months, and I am sick of looking the way I do and feeling the way I do. I am at the heaviest I’ve ever been.
Sunday, I met with a photographer in my neighborhood to take some professional shots of me that would include my full body. I agonized over what to wear for the shoot and tried on what felt like a million outfits, including the bigger-sized clothes I bought just a few months ago that were meant to be my cooler weather, dressier clothes. I couldn’t decide what type of outfit to wear. I wanted something that spoke “professional creative,” but I had nothing that fit that conveyed that.
And nothing looked great. Seriously, I tried on probably 10 outfits, including a bunch of clothes I kept in my closet after I did the big purge of my smaller clothes, and almost all of my remaining old clothes were too small. The new clothes aren’t too small, but they also don’t flatter me as much as they did in the dressing room (dammit, that good dressing room lighting can be a curse too).
So much of the weight I’ve gained is in my stomach. It’s not just bloat. It’s distended and swollen all the time. This is me now, a beached whale.
It doesn’t help that along with letting my body go, I have let my hair go too — or at least my dyed hair. In truth, I’ve been letting myself go gray longer than I have been letting dieting go. Like intuitive eating, it too is a “process,” which is a euphemism for “major life change that isn’t easy to accept.” In general, I’ve got way more acceptance for going gray than I do for intuitive eating. I just passed my year mark of not dying (which will probably be a topic of discussion here one day), and let’s just say the hardest part of that journey, the first few months, is now behind me.
I love my newfound silvers (really, really I do), but since I decided to ditch the dye, I hate the brassy tone of my original, so-called natural brown that is mixed in. I’ve been basically making hair adjustments every other month for the last year in a quest to minimize and eliminate the last of the old color, which culminated in a big chop a few weeks ago. While I like it some days, this cut needs a little more upkeep to not look too “helmety,” especially with my now rounger face. I feel like I was full-on helmety for my photoshoot.
Thanks to unforeseen rain Sunday, we had to cut the shoot short, which was great for me, because as soon as I arrived at the shoot location, I immediately “knew” I had gone with the wrong outfit and should have done earth tones over black and bright fuchsia, even if it would have been a less casual look.
I got the proofs today and reviewed them, you know, right before I started typing (which is what prompted the typing). Yes, I am glad I get a do-over on the shoot, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate my body right now and am feeling these overwhelming urges to ditch the no more dieting and go back to a life of overexercise and eating restriction. I would be miserable and obsessing over food and hating myself still, but at least I would be less fat.
Perhaps therapy will give me a bit of perspective, which I am due for, in ohh 7 minutes.
(An hour and 31 minutes later …)
I am out of therapy and can say I’m better, but not completely turned around.
With my therapist’s help, I was able to pinpoint that my frustrations with my body were causing me to feel like a failure, that because of how I feel about my body I am not measuring up to the expectations I have for myself and that I don’t deserve my amazing husband. She talked me off the proverbial ledge and gave me some needed perspective.
She told me that my feelings about my body and size, especially at this point in my recovery (this is a recovery of sorts), are normal and expected. She also reiterated that it’s hard to get away from focusing on outward appearance when this is “the water we swim in,” meaning the pervasiveness of diet culture, which constantly tells us …
We’re not good enough …
We’re not deserving enough …
We’re not really successful …
unless we’re thin (and, of course, we’re never thin enough).
She also said she was almost certain (she doesn’t like to speak in absolutes since we’re all individuals) that I wouldn’t always feel this way about my body or about wanting to give up on intuitive eating.
We ended the session with her challenging me to (with kindness and compassion) notice the discomfort of wanting to give in and recognizing any patterns that come from it. Basically, rather than avoiding these uncomfortable feelings, lean in, listen and see if there is something to be learned.
I left the video call and transcribed a few of the scribbles I took during the session and came back to a thought I had had but hadn’t fully thought through.
Giving up on intuitive eating right now, running outside and exercising just to burn calories right now, restricting what I eat right now and for the rest of the day, week etc. would be returning to where I came from. “It’s a deep groove,” my therapist had said.
I had wondered what she meant by that statement, but it makes sense. The feelings I am having now is part of the same broken pattern, cycle really, that led me here. Going down that same broken path is no solution. Instead of giving up, I need to lean in.