In the mirror

I woke up early in the morning because I heard my dad come in my room and I thought he took the wine that my mom had bought for me earlier. So after he left I stumbled out of the room and followed his voice back to my parent's room (assuming that he was chastising my mom for buying wine for me). Instead, I heard him talking to my mom about my weight. Telling her that I was unhealthy, and other things that I couldn't hear clearly. He told her he wouldn't say anything to me, but he wanted to tell her (presumably so she'd do something about it?) Well I didn't know whether to sneak off or actually ask him about my original question about wine (I asked him, then went back to bed), but I couldn't get that conversation out of my mind.

At first I was hurt. How dare he talk about my weight behind my back? He has no right to discuss my body with someone else. Then I got angry. It didn't replace the hurt, it just came up right alongside it. And I couldn't figure out why I was hurt and angry--I am overweight. And recently, looking at pictures, I've become more unhappy. After thinking about it, I realized why I was so angry.

I blame my parents for my weight. Most specifically my dad, but my mom as well. I blame them. I blame them because they fought viciously with each other. I blame them because the two people who I trusted the most because untrustworthy, unstable, and sometimes implied that I should pick sides. I blame them because they allowed me to eat fast food, junky food, and then my mom would try to force us to eat uber healthy--which just made me want junky food even more. I blame them because I ran to food for my comfort. I felt like I had no comfort from my parents. I felt like maybe they wouldn't be there one day. That one day I would be abandoned. And food made me feel good. When I ate it, I felt better.

So that's what I did. I ate to feel good. And I got fat. I got stretch marks in 7th grade. I felt awful about myself. But I couldn't stop. I didn't know how to stop. All I knew was how I felt. And I felt unsafe. unstable. and unlovable. I got bigger, and tried to hide it under bullying, big clothes, and a confident smile.

Well I'm looking in the mirror, and I'm telling myself that I will no longer blame them. I will no longer blame them for not being there for me. And I refuse to let food be my comfort. I refuse to let it be my fall back plan. I refuse to try to let it fill my heart and soul. You know who's trustworthy, reliable, and will love me no matter what? Jesus.

I love my parents. And I know they did the best that they could. And the best thing that they did for me was introduce me to Jesus, because without him, I probably wouldn't be living right now. I probably wouldn't be able to stand with my shoulders straight with the confidence that I have. I forgive them. And I let go of the bitterness and pain. I let go of the hurts and distrust. I'm going to stop holding it against them. Because you know what's in the same hand that's holding that bitterness? Food. It's intertwined and connected and I don't want either of them anymore. I don't. I refuse to let it have power over me.

Where's the determination? Where's the pluck? I asked myself a week or so ago? It was suffocated by anger and resentment. It was suffocated by feeling sorry for myself, and letting myself wallow in my hurt. No more. Here's the determination. Here's the pluck. Here's the willingness to take a stand and so no more. Hopefully, that will not only lead me to have a healthier spiritual and emotional life, but it'll lead to a healthier physical life too. I'm cared for. I'm loved. I'm worthy. <3