This will be a long post- there are some details that have to be 'splained so that things make sense before I get to the meat of it. And then the meat of it is long and juicy too.
I had an epiphany this weekend. You see, I am very lucky. Things come easy to me- and in this case, the catalyst and 'thing' that comes easy is my ability to lose weight.* Don't stop reading- I promise this is applicable on many more levels than losing weight.* I can change my nutrition, and in just a few days changes that are physically noticeable occur. And yet, I am slightly overweight- and not at my best. I am a trainer. I teach fitness and healthy living as my job. I love it, I'm pretty good at it, and I've been doing it a long time. I have all of the tools and knowledge necessary, and I have a thirst for more knowledge. So why- when it comes so easy to me, I know what needs to be done, and how to implement it- am I not at my very best, most stellar physical self?
That answer has become layers deep- and has exactly zero to do with anything physical. I am a woman of faith- and I believe that all things are spiritual or emotional before they are physical. When I started to understand this principle, I began a process of discovering myself. The first few layers were kind of generic, and didn't have specific occurrences attached to them that shaped those false beliefs I held.
This weekend, I had a huge realization- and the layers were not generic. I was thinking, and condemning myself, for not being better. For not eating better, for not being better prepared, for not sleeping enough, for not not NOT. It went on. I sat, irritated at myself, and wondering why I always self sabotage. On everything- but in this situation it had to do with specifically releasing weight. I went back to my drawing board of self discovery- where was this tendency to self sabotage stemming from? Was I scared of being my best? YES. That had to be it. If you are your best self, there's a level of silent expectation placed one you. That's scary! But, I had already discovered that part. Why was it still affecting me? So I sat thinking. And then, kind of like a divine inspiration, 2 specific scenarios and one general theme hit me. Like more than a ton of bricks.
I need to disclose that two of these I had never shared with anyone- not even my husband- until just a few days ago. I didn't even realize they hurt me so bad. And, I am still ashamed and embarrassed. I have been asked to speak at several events, to share my journey of hope. And to share hope, I have to share the pain that gave way to that hope. But these scenarios have never been divulged or shared. I guess what I am trying to say- and ask for- is that those who read this will be gentle.
1) The big general theme: My dad never wanted me. And this has hurt for most of my life- but I didn't realize that the effects bled into this part of my life. My parents were married when my mom was 5 months pregnant. And my dad had the marriage annulled before I was born. Because, for many reasons, he didn't want to be my dad. He didn't want me. Then, a few years and rotten circumstances later, I was sent to live with him. I learned later that he did not want me then either- he would prefer that I be sent to my Grandma's to live, and he keep my sister.
2) 7th grade- I was sitting in class- one of the first days, and I overheard these boys talking behind me. They had given me a new nick name. "Heart burn"- because I was so ugly, I guess. I sat silent, pretending I didn't hear. These boys had no idea what I had been through in the years leading up to that class in 7th grade. New school, new part of the state, mom left us, dad can't take care of us, living on welfare, trying to be a mom to my little sister, fresh out of sexual abuse, living with grandparents. I was broken, literally. I never cried about it, I didn't realize it wounded me significantly, and I never realized that I believed it.
3) Life continued into high school. Still, drowning in the emotions of not understanding how and why my life was like this, and why people who should have loved and wanted me didn't. I had lots of casual friends, and one best friend. It's not like I was an outcast. However, I was never asked to a single dance in high school. Nope. I have never been to homecoming or prom. Or any other dance where the guys ask the girls. That's embarrassing. Again, I didn't realize how ashamed of myself I felt, and how bad this still hurts my 32 year old self (that regularly dances in the kitchen with the man of my dreams). I did go to one girl's choice dance. But I was not wanted- again. And, obviously,because I was ugly.
So- I have held these beliefs that I was not only unwanted- but unworthy of even being wanted. I was ugly, and worthless. Girls who are (told they are) ugly are unwanted, and unworthy of being wanted- that's the message I heard and believed. I wish I had a picture of myself as a 7th grader here that I could post. I look at it, and I don't think I was that ugly! But those words- "heart burn"- apparently cut a huge, gaping wound that was just buried, forgotten, and never addressed. I didn't even know these wounds needed to be addressed until this past weekend.
With my new found need to heal, I went about doing what I could. I journaled (is that even a word?), I wrote 'letters to God', I revisited the lists I have written about what my purpose is, I prayed. Being a woman of faith, I rely heavily upon unseen help. And, silly as it sounds, on Sunday morning I prayed that Angels would help me pick my outfit, direct me how to do my hair, what jewelry to wear. For the selfish, maybe even vain purpose of knowing and feeling that I was beautiful. But not just on the outside- so that the light of Christ could most effectively shine through me. I know, it sounds so dumb. I was taken back to my 13-17 year old broken self. I was feeling all of the pain I had unknowingly stuffed way down deep. And, I let myself feel all of it. I cried, lots. The ugly kind with snot and blotchy all over and red eyes. I remembered feeling ugly and worthless, that I didn't deserve and could never be anything other than that.
My Angels certainly came through. Not to brag, but I looked cute!! I felt cute. My hair was perfect, my outfit was just what I wanted. I didn't even have much makeup on. I really felt gorgeous. On point. On fleek. Rockin.
But, those Angels didn't stop there. My family attends church- and to get all 5 kids ready, plus myself, plus be in the cleaning up stages of an emotional fall apart, plus the hubby being gone for days and then out the door early for meetings- makes Sunday mornings a bit of a rush and semi chaotic. I hadn't even seen the hubs that morning until I walked into church. We had a couple of kids between us- so we linked hands behind their heads. Gave a little squeeze to his hand, got a little wink back. That silent communication that says 'Love you babe.' And then began the 6 visits to the potty for the 3 yr old. The chasing the 1 yr old back into the chapel. The refereeing of the not so discreet elbows being jabbed into sides. And in the middle of it, he passed me a note- which you will noticed is all water smeared. Don't ask.
"You look smokin' hot today babe! Thanks for being so amazing!"
He writes me notes all the time- beautiful and deeply thought out letters. Today though, it was short, and could be perceived as superficial. Unless, of course, you believe that Angels and a kind Father who watches from above are intimately involved in the small details of your life- and stand ready to give you just what you need in the moment it's needed. My adult self loves the long and beautiful letters he has always written me, even my teenage self loved them. But I'll tell you what- my 13 year old self would have felt like a million bucks if a guy passed me a note telling me I looked smokin' hot!!!
After church, I sat him down to tell him all of those things I had learned over the weekend. All of those pains and memories and things I was ashamed of. I even cried in front of him (or anyone)- which rarely happens. He had no idea his simple note was so very needed at that very second.
So- another layer has been found and peeled back. Another chance to heal from the inside out. Another chance to better understand myself, and become whole.
I am beautiful- and I am believing that even more every day. I didn't know I had given my power and worth away to mindless teenage boys.
Healing comes in layers. And sometimes silly little notes are just the thing to finish a layer off. May we all be brave- and find those deep wounds. And then face them head on- so that we can become closer to our best self- step by step, layer by layer, healing by healing.
