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The Scale Is My Toxic Boyfriend

sarahmarie

Stop-Weighing-Yourself-700x466I’ve been battling hard these last couple of weeks.

I put on my swimsuit and went swimming with my kids. I tried combating negative thoughts with healthy ones. I stuck to my commitment to stay away from any new eating plans (uhhhh…mostly. I did look at a couple, but I didn’t act on any.)

And still. I’ve been fixated on “what’s wrong” with my soul shell, as if I hadn’t learned a hundred lessons about how to nurture and appreciate what I’ve got to work with in the last…20 years?

GAH.

I know that the pursuit of a smaller body is a waste of time for me, and it doesn’t even line up with my values. 

Do I really believe I’m a better, more fulfilled person when my body is smaller?

The ugliest part is that the more I take in these thoughts of yeah, you’d be better if you were in a smaller body, the more those thoughts spread.  The more I entertain the thought of my own value as a smaller person, the more likely I am to think similar thoughts about other people.

Nope. No. NO.

Do you see it? The more we tear ourselves down with destructive thoughts, the more those thoughts seep out and spill onto others.

Am I OKAY with that?!

(I’m not.)

I’ve decided the scale has got to go.

We have one because my husband sees it as a useful tool for himself, but for me, it measures a value I don’t even have a category for in the holistically healthy version of myself. YES, I want to be healthy, whole, and free. NONE of that can be measured by the scale.

The scale, for me, is a way to judge myself. Am I good enough? Have I qualified in an imaginary competition to score just the right numbers?

Here’s the kicker.

I actually feel good in my clothes. I mostly feel good in my body. (I’m just being honest here.)

It’s the numbers that get in my head. They don’t help me live out a healthy, whole, and free life. They aren’t a barometer for what I’m after. All they can do is tell me how much weight I’m carrying at a given moment.

They don’t tell me if that number is effected by dehydration, a need to poop, water retention, or muscle acquisition. They don’t tell me if I’m becoming more of who I actually want to be in life, who is consequently NOT “Lady with the Tiny Body.”

Bye-bye, Scale. I’m not going to miss your unhealthy presence in my life.

Tools for the Fight

sarahmarie

I’ve been doing some battle this week.

I can’t really tell you why. Maybe it’s my declaration of change that’s left me susceptible, maybe it’s bathing suit season that leaves the parts of my body I pick on the most out in the open, maybe it’s upcoming change…

Whatever it’s been, I’ve been putting in some major effort to screw my head on straight.

I’ve been digging into my Wellness Revelation workbook- a great place to work toward healthy, whole, and free.

I’ve been listing to the Rev Well podcast; there is plenty of gold in there. This particular sentiment is burned on my brain and my current motivation: you can look for beauty in a clothing size, but just know if you do, it’s going to hurt her [your daughter].

I’ve been journaling.

I’ve been working it out at Barre3– I really like to do my praying and processing while my body is in motion (moving is so good for our brains and hearts!)

I’ve been soaking up Insta stories from Kara of  Wellness Witness.

I want to live healthy, whole, and free, but when I see transformation photos of people I love while I’m already feeling vulnerable, I also want to focus my efforts on my squishy belly and my sturdy thighs. As if If I could just “fix” those, I’d feel better and be better.

Let me take a moment to remember what I know to be true:

-Counting things (calories, pounds, grams) is a life-stealer for me. I can’t do it AND be healthy, whole, and free.

-I want to be healthy, whole, and free. I want that for my kids. And for anyone reading this blog.

-Living according to those goals has presented more of a fight than I really anticipated, but the pursuit has been worth it. For sure.

-Bonus? I feel so much better in my skin, even when nothing on the outside has changed.

One step at a time, Friends.

The Next Best Choice

sarahmarie

I’ve been letting go of aaall my food rules. They are unhealthy ways for me to manufacture control over my own life. It’s been one of those “not easy, but worth it” practices. I didn’t realize how often I feel the itch to subscribe to a particular diet until I said no more. 

Last week, I showed up to one of my preferred ways to work bad news out of my body, a Barre3 studio class.

I had bad news to work off of my nerves, shoulders, and gut, and I needed to exchange some words with God. Movement is such a helpful tool for me to do those things in an integrated way, so I woke my husband up for my early class (it was that important to me, and he’d already agreed to it- I do have a heart!) and went on my way.

There are some moments when my inability to micromanage every outcome in my life makes itself obvious, and this was one of them.

I headed into class and was met with a “hey, you!!!” Her eyes were bright with recognition, but mine were dull with confusion. I do have something of a familiar face (I get “you look just like my cousin/friend/roommate” with some regularity), and the words, “do we know each other from somewhere?” tumbled out of my mouth, totally lacking any grace or opportunity to leave this woman thinking I remembered her.

After the brightness drained from her face, I discovered I’d met her the day after I’d moved across the country. We both found our equipment and places in class, and I spent much of the next hour processing through this exchange (and only a fraction on my stress over school shootings).

I was so embarrassed over the exchange that had happened just before class, anxious, even. By the end of the class, though, I landed on forgiveness. I forgave myself for making a mistake, and I decided to ask for a little grace and forgiveness from this woman, too. I acknowledged that I couldn’t control the outcome of the conversation and made my peace with it.

All I can do in my life is make the next best choice. I can’t control someone else’s choices. I can’t control every change in my body. I can’t control when my favorite friends move away. I can’t control what my kids think of me. I can’t control whether an active shooter shows up at my son’s school. I can’t make someone else forgive me.

I want to.

For sure.

But making peace with all that helps me put down some of the weight I’ve been carrying and make more room for what I can do.

Another school shooting.

sarahmarie

The headline popped up on my phone this morning, but I chose not to click on it. My mama heart could not deal and also be present with my kids. I just couldn’t.

My sweet mom left me a message, delivering some encouragement, strength, and love across the miles. She knows I do not do well with news like this. I imagine my kids in that situation. I imagine how the parents must feel, how I would feel as one of the teachers present. I carry on physically, but I put myself in their brick-heavy shoes and live there. I hold my breath putting my son on the bus and picking him up.

I am reminded of how much I can’t control.

And I’m not totally okay with that.

This is why I follow diet plans. It’s not about weight. My thighs and I are friends- they like walking through life thick and strong, and I’m grateful for what they can do. It’s about control.

I know myself and I told myself I’m not going to jump onto some plan today. By the end of the day, I was trying to justify starting another one. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just the truth. This is where I’m at and what I’m trying to change.

Because as much as I can’t control (I can’t decide how long I’ll live, or if my kids will go through any trauma), I do have choice. I have agency. I get to decide if I’m going to be a present, loving, and active parent right now. I get to decide if I’m going to live my life as best as I can today, because that’s what I have.

No diet plan or comfort food is going to help me do those things.

On the flip side, choosing to do things that fill my cup does help. Tonight, I’m choosing to write about it (so therapeutic!), have a little snack, and then send myself to bed with a book.

8 Things Another Diet Plan Won’t Fix

sarahmarie

It was over a year ago that I started to see what is going on with all these eating plans I sign my name to. (We can also say “diets.” I don’t tend to follow them for weight loss reasons, but the actions are the same, so eating plan= diet.)

Strict eating rules= a feeling of control, and then a temporary feeling of peace. Over the last year and a half, I have chosen to look my controlling ways square in the face.

Sometimes, I have walked away more peaceful and free than ever, acknowledging that it’s not my job to fix everything for the people I love, and even that my means of “fixing” aren’t THE way to go. I get to BE with those people without the anxiety that normally clings to me when everything is not perfectly okay.

Sometimes, I have simply acknowledged that I am grabbing for control without a plan for change except to be aware and honest about it because that’s the best I can do in the moment.

Many times, I have recognized that my strong desire for nice, neat dietary boxes is my way of feeling in control of something. I live in a world where there is little I can fully control, but I have access to almost any food I would want(especially if I’m willing to ignore the budget!). This leaves me plenty of room to explore whatever program I’m hearing the most about, and I have become a master at convincing myself why whole30/weight watchers/ sugar free/portion fix is a worthy investment of my time and energy.

When I am deep-down honest with myself, the truth is that the food I eat won’t

-fix the fact that I miss my people.

-help me find my groove.

-nurture the deep-seated connection I crave.

-help me deal with the fact that some days, I hate sending my son to school.

-help me sort through the excited feelings I have about finding a career, married with the sad feelings I have for phasing out of my season as a stay-at-home mom.

-give me peace.

-fix the fact that my values tell me to be a vegetarian, but my body hates it.

-add to my quality of life (I think they take away from it!)

No diet plan can fix those things for me. What they can do is put me in stall mode, give me a distraction, turn most of my attention to the next meal, what I’m going to eat when, and borrow attention from what actually lights me up.

That’s why I’m here. I am telling the truth and telling my stories so I won’t buy the lies I keep believing even one more time.