if you are offended by cursing, this is not the post for you to read. I knew there were going to emotions trapped in the layers of fat that still surround my body, I knew I would have to feel them to heal them. Since this is not a quick fix for me, I’m working through it all. I knew I had sadness, grief, fear… check check check, but anger? I wasn’t expecting that, especially I meditate daily and ho’oponopono everything and everybody almost hourly. Last week, it dawned on me that I have trapped anger. The last three days I could feel something rising, it felt thick and heavy, sitting on my chest till around 3am every morning, of course because I am an ever-decreasing fat woman, for a quick second I thought I was having a heart attack until I realized it was repressed emotions rising. I’m so fed up with people thinking being fat/obese/heavy and out of control with food is a fucking easy choice???? This shit has consumed my life since I was around 7, even though I was a skinny child. I was fat shamed my entire life. If you’ve never had a problem with food, then you don’t understand how much shame, guilt, and self-beratement go into a negative food choice. Do you think we just don’t try? Don’t want it bad enough???? I’ve spent hours talking myself out of a food choice, and then hours beating myself after I eventually succumbed to the need for the endorphins, the poor substitute for the oxytocin that comes from REAL connection, not a generic food high that never, no matter how much I ate came remotely close to the natural universe given right to HUMAN connection. OMG. There are reasons for food addiction, many of the people I’m honored to have spoken too for the most part have in common, faulty foundations as children, toddlers, or severe trauma, the majority of them/us have felt an extreme DISCONNECTION, no box to neatly fit in, no label to call their own. I was so hungry as a runaway teenager, sometimes not eating for as long as a week, although one could never have known the maelstrom of complex self-doubts running amok in my mind, because I learned to walk like Cleopatra, to save my life. I faked confidence, and intense badassery so I could survive the streets. Do people understand what it’s like to have a fucking dynamic soul and spirit trapped in these unhealthy vehicles… oh yes, I know… just be strong I have drill sargented myself into losing a couple of hundred pounds and HAD previously lost 130, but, I hadn’t yet faced, owned, LOVED my darkness so it was not then sustainable. I get it now. This is fucking self-love journey, it has very little to actually do with food and everything … everything to do with accepting all facets of one’s sometimes broken psyche’s. I will never and I fucking mean NEVER judge another’s damn journey, how fucking arrogant I was when plugged into the societal matrix. Pfffft… Why don’t you just lose some weight (ummm you don’t think I want too), you would be so pretty (so what am I now), don’t eat so much (I’m fucking TRYING), YOU COULD DIE (duh…. I’m the one feeling the weight of world AND fat crushing me)… umm you shouldn’t wear that (oh should I wear a fucking mu mu?) Whew that was a lotta anger, and I get it, deeply, I shame and blame NOONE for my choices, and only my choices and reclaimed power will lead me to the promised land of my ultimate holistic health.
I’m outing the ego and sharing it all, (cuz I’m nudged too not because it’s comfortable) but I’m loving me, NOW, AS IS, not when _______________(fill in the blank). I’m on my way, because I’m fucking worthy of having my soul and vehicle match, and yanno what I think they already do.. cuz the fact is, no matter how much weight I want to lose I’m unapologetic about being a sexy goddess. What else is possible? Imma fucking find out. (this is day 3/66)
Secrets perpetuate dysfunction. There is NO shame left in me, I own and ADORE every fucking inch.