The "D" word!

It has come to my attention that I need to get back to a healthy body weight. Since my pregnancy with Eli I have gained a little more than 40 lbs.!!! YIKES!! I am not interested in looking like a skeleton! I miss the energy I had 40 lbs. ago! I was talking with my husband the other night telling him how sluggish I felt! He said that maybe "WE" needed to go on a diet! I hate that word. It makes me feel...kind of tight and nervous inside. Whenever I have that sort of reaction to something I know there is some deep routed reason...usually having to do with the past.

I remember my mother struggling with her weight. She tried it all...the pills, the slim fast, the exercise tapes. She even tried this 3 day diet where you follow this strict 3 meal a day menu and you are supposed to lose 10 pounds by the end! I think her mistake came when she had me do these things with her! Whatever her reasoning, it is not wise to have your teenage daughter stressing over the scale. We did not have an open relationship and I had already developed an eating disorder. When my step father left her she would spend whole weekends and most other evenings locked in her room (where she stashed food). My 2 brothers and sister and I were left top fend for ourselves. We were not allowed to go into the fridge or the cupboards without permission. One Saturday I finally got up the nerve to go up to her bedroom door and ask her what we should eat. She yelled back at me, "I don't give a s**t what you eat! All you think about if feeding your face!". Not only did she give a definite answer as to what we were allowed to eat or if we were allowed to eat at all...wow, all I can remember is feeling like she has punched me in the gut. Something went out of me right then. I was 12 years old, closer to 13...right at the beginning of puberty and the self consciousness that proceeds and my mother tells me that all I can think about is feeding my face. What do you think of when you hear that sentence. I picture a human, pig-like think with a greasy face eating and eating and eating. In fact that is the sort of image I saw myself whenever I ate...so I just didn't eat. Unless she was there watching me...I didn't eat. This went on for years. I was not a fat child at all. In fact I have shown a picture from my junior prom to my husband and he curls up his nose and says you look sick! I remind him that my date was a huge football player that literally towered over me, but he still can't stand to see me like that. I would go through these spurts when I would be fine and I would eat when I should but when a stressful event came along...I stopped eating. Starving myself made me feel strong, like a fighter. I couldn't stand up for myself so anorexia was my sword and shield. I struggled with this up until I found out I was pregnant with my son.

When my mother was having me do the 3 day diet with her I remember laughing to myself while thinking that I ate more during those three days that I ever did on my own. We found out that I was allergic to beets during that diet too. I have to confess that on a few occasions I would eat beets just to throw up. I even made myself some salt water once in order to make myself throw up...I couldn't swallow it though, nasty. I stuck with using the handle of my toothbrush to force myself to throw up if I felt I had eaten too much. In high school, I had a boyfriend whom I thought I loved. When we started having problems...my eating disorders were in full force. I even found my mother's diet pills and would have one or two of those for lunch everyday at school. Boyfriend problems (in the perspective of a teenager) coupled with my terror at home weighed heavy on me. So, so, so very heavy. It was in high school that I started mutilating my body for some kind of release. I can remember one night I took a steak knife and cut across my knuckle. I look down at the scar now and I can still remember seeing the blood and feeling exhilarated and like I had just won a battle. I never remember feeling any pain when I cut myself. I always thought it meant that I was strong...stronger than most. I know now I had lost any sense of pain. I think back to the night my mother told me I was only interested in stuffing my face...and when I felt I had lost something...was it then that I lost a sense of pain. Did I lose my sense of pain because of the danger of expressing emotions? Those things get so jumbled in my head now.

Here I am, 29 years old and a mother. I always feel like I am recovering from something. My life is uneasy sometimes because the past is so...broken. I know that I have done some terrible things to my body. I never cared about my own body until I found out I was sharing it with someone else. I had to push my body until I could push no more. For me, it was easy to release all that "anger" when I felt my boy kick me for the first time. The love I felt was enough to endure stretch marks and weight gain. It wasn't always fun but it was worth it! Now that I had my daughter I am aware of how my treatment of my body will be mirrored by her. She will never hear the "D" word from me. I guess I think of weight for children like I think of Maddie in a tutu. Let her be...let her enjoy herself and be carefree. Keep her out of danger but she shouldn't have to worry about adult things until she is an adult. I am a strong believer that my kids will get their habits from watching my husband and I! If we put into practice healthy eating habits our children will know nothing else. If I am healthy I will feel healthy and I will feel confident...and so will my baby girl. Feeling self conscious is inevitable for girls, I know! But how can my daughter believe me when I tell her she is beautiful if I can't believe that about myself? I don't think I am beautiful because I know what goes on inside of me...in my heart and it is not always a very "warm" place. I am overwhelmed thinking of how much "cleaning" I have to do in myself before the day comes when Maddie needs her first "You are Beautiful"!!! Will I ever be what she deserves? Will I ever be able to teach her what Beauty is?