What I Know For Sure
I’ve had an issue with food since I was about three years old. One of my earliest memories is sneaking into the kitchen, peeling away the gold foil on the stick of Blue Bonnet margarine and biting into it with reckless abandon. Yes, this is a true story. When you are left home with a schizophrenic mother while your siblings are off at school and your father is at work – well, you find comfort where you can. Apparently, at three, you can find solace in partially hydrogenated vegetable oil.
I can’t remember at what point I turned to the Blue Bonnet – was there not enough food in the house? was there no one to feed me, and did I just eat what I knew wouldn’t kill me (at least not immediately)? or did I just think fake butter was the bomb? I don’t know the answer. All I know is that I remember it and I remember feeling ashamed about it. Even at that age, I knew it wasn’t right. Even the three year old me knew to cover my tracks. Can you imagine a mini me smearing teeth marks off of a whittled down stick of margarine, trying to make hard right angles with my chubby toddler fingers? Completely tragic.
I bring this up now because I am 36 years old and I still have that 3 year old lurking inside of me. Though nowadays, I’ve graduated to butter and hiding my affection for the creamy goodness seems a bit like blasphemy. Lord knows that I’ve tried to overcome my compulsion with food – therapy! antidepressants! think positive! therapy! perseverance! meditation! acceptance! meat! therapy! gluten-free! CABBAGE! You get the picture. Nothing has stuck – which is really a nice way of saying that I’ve failed at this healthy living thing.
About a year or so ago I decided to embrace my weight and practice extreme acceptance despite what the scale said. For the most part, it has been working. Ask anyone, I am happier and more confident. I am a stronger, more resilient person. Life is truly so very promising right now. I feel blessed, blah, blah, blah.
BUT.
But – my body doesn’t feel good. There’s a disconnect that’s happening with my body versus what is happening with my soul. My soul wants to run a marathon but my body is only equipped to take me to corner coffee shop. Surprisingly enough, these layers of flesh that I once hid behind are now actually hindering me. Not just an annoyance, but actually IN MY WAY. Much to no one’s surprise, this ass is not going to act as a flotation device should I decide to zip line over the Amazon river.
I’ve been thinking (and obviously not writing) a lot about what my next steps in my life should be. I’ve lost my way a bit. I’ve shifted around some commitments. I’ve been making the things that are directly in front of me (work, family, dinner, laundry, sleep) a priority and not leaving any time for, as Stephen J. Covey would say, “the important, but not urgent” things. It’s hard to find the time. But then again, maybe I don’t really need to watch that episode of Glee.
Last year, before my Aunt passed away, she made me promise that I would take better care of myself. She told me two things in the hospital before she died, she said I was beautiful and she told me to take better care of myself. That’s it. THOSE were the words she wanted to convey to me before she passed away. Apparently, I never was a good listener. Or maybe it’s that things take a very long time to sink in.
On the downhill slope of the year two thousand and ten – the year of flagellating – I am finding that it’s groundhog’s year. The year of repeat. This fall, instead of my aunt, I find my father’s body of 72 years beginning to break down on him. It seems the years of working rotation shifts in a mill to support his kids is coming home to roost. We haven’t had a good relationship and it’s hard to reach out and open that closed door. But isn’t this what daughter’s are supposed to do? Suck it up? The answer always comes back to “yes.”
Life seems so fleeting right now. I am exactly half that age and time has gone by so quickly. I have big dreams. What do I want the next 36 years to be about? What about my legacy? I definitely do not want to spend it talking about how I need to lose 50 pounds.
That, I know for sure.
This entry was posted on Thursday, November 18th, 2010 at 8:23 am and is filed under Daily. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
20 Responses to “What I Know For Sure”
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I just ran across a fantastic essay by Anne Lamott that is totally relevant to what you’re talking about. http://www.sunset.com/travel/anne-lamott-how-to-find-time-00418000067331/
And the story of your three year old self is truly heartbreaking—and made me remember how used to hide under the covers of my bed with a bag of brown sugar and a spoon. It makes you wish you could visit your little girl self and tell her how great she is, just as she is.
Rachel´s last [type] ..Thoughts on mothering
Rachel! That is a fantastic essay, thank you! I’ve passed it on to other folks and they’ve all thanked me for it.
I used to eat sugar by the spoonful as well…
Right now my struggle is, do I cut my hair off like I really want to? Or do I keep wondering if I should cut my hair and asking people and fearing their reaction? I don’t want to care! There are bigger fish to fry in my life. Like MAHJAH fish.
Cut the hair. I am so happy I did.
Anne Lamont is awesome, and so are you Giyen (and Rachel and Rachelgab-even though I know you less.) I remember feeling intense jealousy at Lamont’s “Operating Instructions” – total genius.
My brother and I grew up with a mother who battled her whole short life with weight issues. She was on thyroid medication and was constantly asking us if she was as chunky as, “that lady over there…”. She would point at some poor lady down the street, and my brother and I (mind you, we are like eight!) would say, “oooohhhh…nooo… She is way bigger than you.”
She was our mom, she knew were were lying about that just like she would later know when we lied about being drunk. But it made her feel better.
All I can say is that we loved her no matter what. She was a godess to us. And if there was more of her to love, so be it.
Like Like. thanks for sharing. I was so destined to sneak food that I ate a whole bowl of blue jello at 5 am then found out it was actually medicine for our birds.
thanks for keeping it real
Food is an odd thing. It sustains us and tortures us at the same time. Women are especially subject to the scrutiny of having to have the perfect bod. As men we’re basic slobs and no one really cares. (Just check out Jerry Springer and see who the women are fighting over.) I like your message because women need to be kinder to themselves. I have women friends who will sacrifice a swim on stunning summer day because of bathing suit issues, or who can’t enjoy a dessert without a preamble about how they shouldn’t eat it, or who look amazing and then spend half an hour talking about how the cut of the jean makes their butt look big. Life is short, embrace who you are and take baby steps to better health and a happier direction. One day you’ll see you’ve gone a mile, or two or three. Here’s to your beauty Giyen, inside and out.
Tom @ Tall Clover´s last [type] ..Over the Pass to Apple Country
Personally, I say there are somethings worth worrying about and others that are not. If you’re going to eat the cake, maybe make sure dinner is balanced. You don’t have to live off of salads or soups or magic elixirs — just make sure your meal has a protein, a starch, and a veggie. That can be red meat, mashed potatoes, and some random veggie. That can be chicken, brown rice, and some other random veggie. In any case, it’s the one baby step towards healthier eating that’s stuck with me. Sure, I’m not losing the weight right now, but at least I know I’m eating something rounded at the end of the day. It makes me feel a little better about the slip-ups during the day, too.
As for making peace with relatives — perhaps it’s alright. It’s hard to overlook the past, but it might be easier than regretting what you didn’t do in the end. Wasn’t that something Lucille Ball said? Regret what you did, not what you didn’t do? I don’t recall the exact wording, but she said something to that extent.
I love that, regret what you did, not what you didn’t do. I think that will be my mantra for 2011. Lots of love to you, Meredith!
For a time, I didn’t have enough food as a teenager because I was on my own and i didn’t have enough money. Now, I can’t NOT eat and the thought of a diet sends me into a panic. I eat so that I feel safe and secure and protected. I eat because it’s an easy source of comfort and nobody can really take away my enjoyment of something creamy or sugary or delicious. They could try, and i might feel guilty afterwards, but I still enjoy it in the moment and that’s what brings me back every time.
You are beautiful. I love your smile. And, you have fantastic hair. It’s all about the hair. =)
Elizabeth´s last [type] ..like your family is any better
giyen….i am so glad i met you.
it was just too short.
i want to know so much more…i want more time to get to know you.
dealing with our childhood is HARD.
hard to make sense of why we feel what we do…how it could have been different…how we WISH it had been different….why we did what we did….what was missing?
and i think this the age that it becomes really obvious to us.
i hope we have more time together someday.
We all have battles that we’ve been fighting since we developed a memory. For whatever reason they latched on and won’t let go. One of my battles is paper work. It’s suffocating. The papers consume me. I keep telling myself that all I have to do is declutter and organize and it will be done, but I can never get over the fear of the paper and actually do the decluttering and organizing. Once again, I am determined to not start another year with all of this paper consuming my sanity… We shall see…
Renee´s last [type] ..Moving Money
While most are addressing the food issue, I’d like to comment regarding your relationship with your father. To hear my dad speak, he was the father of the year. I knew he was never around when we needed him and that it took every ounce of willpower my mother had to never speak ill of him when as children we would ask, “Why don’t you and daddy get back together?”. When my dad ended up in a nursing home for the last decade of his life, his only daughter (me) was blessed with the responsibility of managing his finances and his health. And, no, at the time “blessed” would not have been the word I used. Over the years I came to terms with the fact that no matter what he did in the past or said in the present, how it made me feel or react was totally in my control. During the last few months of his life we were able to have some really nice conversations about his childhood and his antics (he was a ladies man and a prankster in the day). I am really glad I was able to open that door. I think you will be, too.
Amen to this. It’s very worthy advice.
It’s hard to accept people’s limitations when the limits hurt you. But it’s the best way to move past them and live for yourself. Forgiving is so hard, but I think regret is even harder.
Good luck Gyien. I love your writing and check here often.
I had my first baby a year and a half ago and while I’m at my pre-preoglicious weight, I’m bigger than I used to be. Actually the biggest I’ve been. And I have that stubborn donut tummy most real moms get, and it won’t go away.
BUT, I just ran — actually ran not walked — my first half-marathon this past weekend. And I did a ten mile run last spring. If you feel you can run a marathon in your soul then you can probably do it in real life. Let me just say, passing the finish line after a long run like that is one of the most **exhilarating** feeling you’ll ever feel in life. More than stepping on a scale and seeing you’ve shed a few pounds. We all beat ourselves up about food and weight — I’m right there with you. But focusing on being healthy does take off the edge some.
You are so right. I keep chiding myself to just get out there and start moving around. Perhaps a marathon will be in my future.
Have a great Thanksgiving.
Mike
http://www.mikeleonen.com
Photo ideas? 100 Portrait Ideas
You write beautifully, and I relate more than I would like to admit.
Ps: Rachel, cut the hair! I did this spring, and I have never looked back.
Diane´s last [type] ..also not seen at…
Thank you Diane. It really means a lot to hear that I am not alone. : )
Hi Giyen,
I’ve been wondering what’s up, and I have the same ambivalent feelings about myself. Mine was Twinkies! I feel like I’m getting to a better and better place, but my body’s just not following right now. I sense that it has to do with focus–it’s hard to fit in mentally stimulating workouts along with the other stuff that just cannot be dropped. But focusing on the essentials just clears up so much.
Thanks for the honesty!