One step forward, two steps back.

Or should that be two steps forward, three steps back?  I dunno….

I know it’s silly to think that just because one has realized that one doesn’t have to look like a model to be both beautiful and worthwhile that everything’s suddenly going to be all sunshine and roses.  And I didn’t think that, anyway.  But to live in the moment when you’re having a set-back… well, it’s hard.

I got dressed this morning and put on what I consider to be the wrong top.  I was going to ask my husband to get me a different one out of my room when he went upstairs, but I didn’t catch him in time.  I mentioned it to him when he got to the bottom of the stairs, and he looked at me and said “why?  It looks just fine on you.”

I reminded him that I don’t like to show my belly – ever.  “But you’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“I don’t even like YOU seeing it,” I cried.  (And I mean cried – I had tears running down my face and everything.)

The thing is, even though I agree with everything I’ve read about Fat/Size Acceptance, it’s easy for me to say that when it applies to other people, and a whole different story entirely in regards to myself.  I’m the type of person that can see good in almost anybody else – but none in myself.

I’m filled with shame for the way I look, and can’t stand for anybody to see certain parts of my body – not even my husband, who is supposed to be the one person in the world that I can say or show anything to.

And yes, I realize that it’s only been about a week since I made the decision to try and accept myself for who and what I am, but when something like this happens… it’s just so hard.  One part of me is saying “you said you’d start accepting yourself for who you are, and here you are going back on that promise.”  Another part is saying “but I look so GROSS.”

I always thought it was teh fat I was fighting.  I always thought to myself, “if I could just lose the weight, then I wouldn’t look so disgusting.”  But reality is hitting me square in the face: teh fat is not the problem.  The problem is in my head.  The problem is that I’ve been so indoctrinated by society to think that I’m somehow inferior and disgusting simply because I happen to be carrying around a few more pounds than most people.

For reference, I weigh the exact same (weighed myself on Friday out of curiosity) as Joy Nash.  Although I do believe I’m shorter than she is.

So I suppose I would fall into the “not THAT fat” category that so many people are fond of.  (Actually, I have heard that quite often from friends and family, even my husband.)

But it’s different in my head.  Sometimes I wonder if I don’t have Body Dysmorphia.  Because when I look in the mirror, I see something that apparently others don’t see.  My husband is fond of telling me that I’m “stupid” or “crazy” when I tell him what *I* see when I look in the mirror.

I guess my point is that actually getting to the point where I DO accept and love myself for who and what I am, regardless of my weight or size, is going to be difficult.  That doesn’t mean that I’m going to give up because I’m having a bad day or whatever.  But it’s hard.  For me, I actually think it’s harder than DIEting to lose the weight.  Because I have a suspicion that even if I woke up tomorrow having lost the weight overnight, I would still look in the mirror and not like what I see. 

And I think that’s infinitely more important.  Liking what I see – it doesn’t matter what it is I DO see.  But I need to like it.  For myself, more than anything.

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