Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The House of Mirrors

I am hard on myself. I am usually the last to accept me, the first to put myself down and I'm ready to believe the lies people say about me. I am going to say right off the top I know this isn't healthy. It's a constant struggle in my everyday life. I am sure there are reasons for it but that isn't the direction I am heading in this post.

My self esteem, on a scale of 1-10 is probably a 5 but that has come a long way from the 1 that it used to be in my teen years. I usually feel very insecure in a group of people and sometimes I leave situations because I don't have "nice" trendy clothes, fit into them quite like someone else would or when I notice that I am the largest person present I run. I feel like all eyes are on me, even when the only ones that are, are mine.

My struggle with weight started in the womb...I swear! I was never the tiny "cute" kid and even when I was skinny I was the tallest in my class. I think I was 5'8" in kindergarten (sarcasm). My physical stature is something that I have always been very aware of thanks to others and my own insecurities. It's an issue that lives in my focus.

Since having this baby I can't seem to shake the baby weight. I don't know what it is. I have been told that baby weight is no different than regular fat but I am starting to think that it is. I know fatigue and the busy-ness of life factor in as well but I wish it would just melt away. I have friends who had babies around the same time as I did and they can't keep weight on their bodies, they are smaller than they ever have been and some can't believe how fast their baby belly went away. Then there is me. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.

This morning I was working away at home. I started sorting through my clothes and getting rid of some because they don't fit anymore. They are too small, old as the hills or full of holes. As I was looking at them I started to feel down. I started to feel fat, and frumpy. Ugly passed through my mind on more than one occasion and I just wanted to die. I knew in that moment that I wasn't the prettiest girl ever and wondered why my husband ever wanted the title of "Leah's husband". He had lots of better choices and he picked me.

Feeling COMPLETELY like crap, I got my son up from his nap and took him down to have a bath. After he was done with his bath I took him out of the tub and stood him on the floor. I put his little towel over his head and went to wrap it around him and he bolted. Off he went. My little nude-e running free. As he ran the towel trailed behind him and when he came to an stop the towel settled in to cup his little cheekies. He was having a blast.

It was watching my little guy run with nothing on but the towel that made me realize how free he was. He hasn't been tainted yet. Innocence. I wish I still had it. I try to think of what it would feel like to walk down the street and feel as though no one was starring at me because I am carrying 50 extra pounds, to look in the mirror and see beauty, to be in a group of people and feel accepted. It's a pretty sweet thought. Hmmm.... to feel comfortable in my own skin.

As my little man ran with no cares in his mind, knowing that his mom loved every minute of what he was doing he felt loved. Precious. That gave him the freedom to be himself.

Maybe my issue isn't the extra 50lbs. I think it has more to do with the years of whatever can be summed up under "worldly tainting". As a parent it terrifies me to think of my little guy who today was so free to be himself may end up wanting to hide because of how others perceive him (or so he thinks). OH tears again... I can't do anything about how he feels about himself in 20 years but right now I can make sure that he feels safe and loved enough to know that who HE is, SO special, right and lovable.

I hope someday I get it. More tears...


1 comment:

Ruth said...

Thank you for writing this.