Saying Words
You'd think as a writer that I could say the words that need to be said about my weight and what an albatross it is around my neck. Yet, this is the most difficult and delicate subject for me. This is the subject that harbors so much of my pain and holds back so much of my day-to-day living. This subject shapes my world and destroys it every day.
Talking to a friend recently about just this topic, I realized that for someone who has had the challenge of obesity for over twenty years, I am the one who understands it the least. My soul is tangled in its web as well as so much of my world--my religious culture, my family culture, my professional dreams, my hopes for a family, my real, authentic life. My weight is the harbinger of the toxic sludge that occupies my soul and sears these words into my core each day.
And because of those words, I must cower in shame and fear. I cannot live the life I want. My dreams will not come true. I must not hope.
Who could love this body? It houses a soul, a heart, a spirit that I like, but most days I feel people can't see those parts of me. Most days, I cannot see those parts of me.
I have believed the lies. I have soaked them in, dredged my heart in their black words, and marinated my soul in their flagellations until they have become the adamantine center of my soul.
These are the words that I let define me. These are the words that are my truth. These are the words that birth my sorrows and my shame.
Maybe if I finally say these words, I can loosen their grip on my life.
Talking to a friend recently about just this topic, I realized that for someone who has had the challenge of obesity for over twenty years, I am the one who understands it the least. My soul is tangled in its web as well as so much of my world--my religious culture, my family culture, my professional dreams, my hopes for a family, my real, authentic life. My weight is the harbinger of the toxic sludge that occupies my soul and sears these words into my core each day.
I am not beautiful.
I am not enough.
I am ugly.
I am a fat.
And because of those words, I must cower in shame and fear. I cannot live the life I want. My dreams will not come true. I must not hope.
Because I am not enough.
Who could love this body? It houses a soul, a heart, a spirit that I like, but most days I feel people can't see those parts of me. Most days, I cannot see those parts of me.
I have believed the lies. I have soaked them in, dredged my heart in their black words, and marinated my soul in their flagellations until they have become the adamantine center of my soul.
These are the words that I let define me. These are the words that are my truth. These are the words that birth my sorrows and my shame.
Maybe if I finally say these words, I can loosen their grip on my life.
I just love that you are writing again. I feel like when you are writing, I see so much progress and development in you. It is when you slip back and stop writing or communicating that I see you regress. You are awesome and I love seeing this journey that you are on because regardless of the ups and downs or length of time that it takes, I know you will come off conquerer! That is the essenence of hope... knowing that regardless of what is happening today, you will win in the end because your faith and hope will drive you to accomplish it! Love ya!
ReplyDeleteBrock, you are making me cry. You know this is the bedrock of my struggles that I am writing about and I seek for that hope to conquer. What I can do for now is write, tell my truth, and see if I can make changes from the inside out instead of the outside in. Change is a-coming. :)
Delete