I Know My Worth
CONTENT WARNING:
Body Dysmorphia
Dieting
Cancer
Disordered Eating and Thoughts
I have officially decided that I want it all.
I know this sounds like an absolute cliche, but hear me out.
Ever since I can remember I have thought that in one way or another I will have to compromise in life. It started with my body. I have had body image issues since as far as I can remember. With that came the idea that I will never deserve what thin people deserve unless I fit that ideal. I had constant little reminders about my weight and size. (mind you, I was like ANY OTHER KID) But for some reason when I went to sleep overs and couldn't fit into my teeny tiny friend's pajamas, I placed blame on myself. I watched as the women around me validated what they were eating because of some way they had burned calories. Or how they always refused second portions because they "shouldn't". I watched them get ready every day pausing and looking in the mirror, squishing their arms, legs or tummy, only to turn around and change the outfit. I sat in dressing rooms surrounded by mirrors and listened to the women around me trying on clothing. They always talked about how a certain body part looked and if it made them "look fat". It became so ingrained in me that I had to hate my body. I had to change it, mold it, restrict it, starve it, work it out, etc. I believe I was around the age of 10 when I attended my first Weight Watcher's meeting. At first it was to go with my mom and see what she was doing. Soon after I joined and started weighing in. I sat in those meetings every Thursday evening and watched those women take off every article of clothing that they possibly could, just to make sure they lost weight and didn't gain (some even took off jewelry). Most of the time they limited their water intake for the day because, heaven forbid their water weight tipped the scale in the wrong direction! To be honest I felt kind out of place. Here I was, a growing child, weighing in at about 130 lbs. with a goal of at least 110 lbs. and I was surrounded by women who were thrice my age and thrice my weight. We all sat together and applauded when someone would get their 5lb. gold star. We would talk about new lean cuisine meals that had the least amount of points and after we would go and spend money at the WW snack table and buy overpriced fake deserts that had a hefty list of ingredients no one would dream of being able to pronounce. The overhead florescent lights in the tiny dark room tucked away in the back of some community church cast a green glare on our skin. And lets be honest, that was the only thing that had made us look unappealing. I have so many memories of my mom and I getting in to the car with our new stash of snacks. We would often finish a bag of twisted cheddar crackers before we even made it home.
Negative body image has been such a huge part of my life and who I am. It's what we do as women. We get together and talk about the most recent diets we are on. We encourage each other to not over eat, "for our health". You may think that once I was diagnosed with cancer for the first time, the idea of loosing weight was completely wiped out.
You would be wrong.
I have a vivid image if myself in my bathroom mirror. I may have written about this before but it is such an important image. I was in the bathroom, completely naked. I was bald. I had no eyebrows. No eyelashes. My lips were dry, crusty and peeling. I was so weak that I was waiting at the edge of the tub for my parents to come lower me in. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. My eyes looked sunken in. My elbows were pointy and my spine stuck out of my back dramatically. I could see all of my ribs. My back was hunched over because it just took too much energy to sit straight up. Goose bumps covered my skin because I could not keep my own body heat. In that moment I realized that I did not want to celebrate this look anymore. It was dark and I was the spitting image of death.
You may think that after this very eye opening experience, my desire to fit into the standard body image ended.
You would be wrong. Again.
As I got healthier, I got fatter. At first it felt good! Then slowly when I got past a size six, my obsession began again. I was given a chance to restart my weight and I was not about to blow that chance by gaining all the weight back! And to no one's surprise, I did. I started all over again with the working out. This time it was super modified because of my new physical limitations. But you better believe I started obsessing again. I will not bore you with the rest of the times that I jumped in and out of the cycle of self loathing. Lets just say I was diagnosed again, and I went through all of the thoughts, feelings and actions mentioned above another time.
Jump forward a few years and I am in college. I am constantly battling new complications from all of the side effects, but I am in a place where I found support from at least 150 other women in Kappa. I was still thin from the second cancer but my hair wasn't growing back all the way and my face was still super puffy from the steroids. (Not cute) I went to a couple parties here and there but I was the girl on crutches who wasn't able to participate in hikes, or greek week, or got tired crutching up and down the row. At parties I held my expectations low. I knew that I had a personality of gold and a heart that would love instantly. But I also knew that I was in college and no guy would really care about that. Or I wouldn't be in a situation where they could find that out for themselves. There were the casual hookups here and there, but we were always drunk and I made sure to never expect anything more. I made sure to have zero expectations because I knew that the world I lived in would not provide the same opportunities for me as it did to my thin, able bodied neighbors.
Now, cut to the present day. I am 25 years old, and I live in the city of my dreams. I have an amazing job, THAT I AM GOOD AT! I have friends that support me and love me. Yes, I am disabled. Yes, I live in a bigger body. I am healthy. I am happy. I am thriving. I am new to the body positive community, but I have never felt more beautiful and accepting of myself. I don't what the future holds but i do know what I want. And guess what?
I want it all.
I want to make eyes across the room.
I want to hold hands.
I want to have the trivial arguments.
I want the late night booty calls.
I want the "Good Morning" texts.
I want the little apartment together.
I want the proposal.
I want the split holidays at each other's parents' houses.
I want the spontaneous road trips.
I want the 'please stop snoring' nudges.
I want to adopt all the rescues.
I want to have a giant cuddle puddle with our fur babies.
I want to go on the accessible hike that we found.
I want Sunday mornings spent in bed with coffee and books.
I want bridesmaids.
I want to stop worrying about my weight.
I want to be an aunt. Many times over.
I want the cold feet.
I want the wedding.
I want the honeymoon.
I want the family Christmas card.
I want the nights of camping under the stars.
I want to travel the world.
I want to lower the number of children in foster care.
I want to fill out the adoption papers.
I want the nerve wracking house check.
I want to baby proof the house.
I want to love our children with all my heart.
I want to tuck them in at night with a book.
I want to sing them "La Le Lu" like my dad used to sing to me.
I want them to know Manuelita and wonder why she moved from Pehuajo.
I want to take them to dance, soccer and hockey.
I want pictures of toothless smiles.
I want them to know that their bodies are perfect.
I want them to prioritize who they are instead of what they are.
I want to have planned date nights because we just get too busy.
I want us to have our own family taco night.
I want us to make an advent wreath at the beginning of each December.
I want to watch them grow from tiny humans, into responsible adults who care.
I want take every opportunity I have never had and experience it for themselves.
I want us to become 'empty nesters'.
I wan to always find new passions.
I want to grow old.
I want to have to cover up my grays because I have just lived that much.
I want to surrender to the grays because, bitch, I made it this far and I am going to wear it proud!
and in case you haven't caught on yet,
I want it all.
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