“You must be proud” and “You can see so much progress when looking into the mirror” – these two sentences are probably the ones I have been hearing the most since I visibly lost weight and my body started changing, and everyone seemingly notices that.
What is to be read in this blog entry is a soul striptease, me being totally honest and not hiding behind any sort of mask that makes me feel secure and save. A few will shake their heads and will have no understanding of any I need to post this online and for everyone to read, and I will surely get comments targeting at this. But knowing that I am not alone with this makes me write about it.
When I started losing weight, looking at myself in the mirror was something I desperately avoided. And if there was no way around, I hated what I was seeing. I was seeing my fat belly, that outperformed my okish boobs, I saw the untrained legs and wobbly tights, I saw my weak arms and I saw my stretch marks on my belly – and no, I have never been pregnant, no gossiping here. I just managed to fuck with my skin through gaining a lot of weight and not taking care of my skin and the whole myself. When I looked into the mirror I wondered how I could ever be in peace with the body that I so did not want to be mine, I always wished it was just a nightmare I could wake up from whilst, at the same time, I knew it was bitter reality. It was a view that I wished I could forget and erase from my memories, but it stayed. It burned itself into my memories and made me avoid looking into any mirror when I was not properly dressed- because I had found ways how to at least partially hide all those weak spots and parts of my body.
But once I was all stripped, there was no chance to actually hide anything, not breathing and trying to use my ab muscles also didn’t really make a difference. And whilst I was looking into the mirror, often tears were running down my face, wondering how I should ever accept someone loving me if I couldn’t even like me – I didn’t even think about how I could ever love myself, because all I did was hating. And with this blind hate against my very own body, I just made things worse instead of better, because frustration back then just led to me eating, and making things even worse.
After the company’s summer party and when looking at one photo of me, I decided from more or less one minute to the other that things needed to change. For me. Only for me, and not for anyone else. I wanted to be able to bury this damned hate for my body, I wanted to look into the mirror and be able to smile and not cry anymore. And I knew right from the start that it was going to be a long road to go and not a thing to wake up to from one day to the other. And I was willing to tackle it, because I wanted it. From the depth of my heart. I wanted to break out of this cage that I felt was holding me back for so long, for too long.
The start of Weight Watchers for me was in September 2015 – and with it I started exercising, working on building up muscles, did cardio training and everythung. With all ups and downs possible: injuries, pain, sickness, gaining weight, stagnation, failure, tears and frustration. But I kept going, because this time I really wanted it and for fuck’s sake I would not give in this time like I did all the times before.
Now it is January 2016, I have lost a bit more than 10kg so far and still have around 15kg to go, but the future is a different story and not subject of this blog entry.
Gym made my muscles be more visible, giving me strength and all what I had wanted. And then I pass by my mirror every morning when going from bed to bathroom and back. So basically every morning I could walk past, smile and think “this looks good, I am much slimmer and it is going well”. I could, if I was able to but instead my brain doesn’t really properly process what my eyes see – because all I ” see” is still the fat girl that I had been before all of this. For me my belly is still as big as before, my boobs have become smaller because they are the only place where I have lost weight, my stretch marks are still as terrible as before, and muscles and loose skin is just wait had been before. This is what I see every time when I run past this damned mirror – maybe because I expect it to be what I would see if I would look closer. Maybe I am afraid to stop and stand there to watch. To see what has changed. To have a look IF things have changed at all.
It needs my boyfriend, my family and friends to really realise that I have changed – to realise that I can feel my hip bones for the first time in like ten years (I couldn’t stop touching them, to make sure they are real and it is no dream), to see that my clothes look too big on me, to see on photos how comparably slim I look. It needed my boyfriend to tell me that my stretch marks were getting do much lighter and better – I never wanted to look at them, because whenever I did they looked just as visible as before,and the hate against my body and myself was back, all the insecurities that piled up over the past years. I promised to take down the mask I often wear- I am sitting on my bed and I am crying because it is s touching thing for me to talk about it.
You know, and as you were able to read, everyone around me watches me change – I am the only one who doesn’t see the change, because I am afraid to have s clear look at my body after all the hate it had brought me over many years. You literally have to force me to go and stand in front of the mirror and have a look. Have a look for more than a second, a look for a time where my brain and mind simply has to face the fact I have changed. But often I do not have the power to do this alone, because I am not used to potentially liking what I would be seeing. And I make sure I always find something that I dislike, something that makes me feel terrible again. And with all these issues I cannot really see any difference when it comes to my self confidence – because I still think and feel like when I was much heavier. To be honest, at times I even have the feeling that back then I was more confident about myself than I am now – because now I wonder how I look like, how others perceive me.
A year ago and a half ago I had no problem to go swimming wearing s bikini where people were around. Now and about 10kg lighter and slimmer, I do not even dare to wear a bikini at a little swimming hall where there were only two more people there(both far from slim).
You wanna know why I am telling you all of this? It is easy: feeling good in your body is not only about your (extra) curves and shape, but a load also about your mind and which tricks it plays on you. Only losing weight will mostly not make you happy if you cannot openly see the changes and recognise them as positive progress and are stuck in seeing how you looked before. Losing weight, getting fitter and loving your body is a road with many lanes next to each other, and if you cannot cover all of them, you will never arrive where you wanna go to – loving your body and also yourself. This is something that I am currently facing and need to admit to myself, and it is quite a thing to do for me, because I attacked the whole “project” with the thoughts that just losing weight would easily do the job (that on its own is hard enough to achieve), and now noticing what it all takes besides this just makes it difficult to handle for me on some days.
That all said…off to …work on myself 😉