Bloodletting...

A couple of weeks ago I turned 33.  I have never been one to be bothered by getting older, but this one was a doozy.  For the first time in years, I felt terrible about myself, like I was going nowhere and just getting worse and worse as a person.  The one big area where I seemed to be offending humanity?  My weight.

I have always struggled with weight.  About five years ago I started making a real effort to get healthy and lose weight, and I lost about 70 lbs.  Yay!  Then I got pregnant and gained every single ounce back.  Boo.  Then over the following two years I got back down again.  Yay!  Then my sister revealed that she had been struggling with an eating disorder for ten years, and in supporting her through her treatment process I realized that my own obsession with my weight was not only harmful to her but to me and also potentially to my kids.  So I made a commitment to her and to myself that I would not weigh myself again and started working to reevaluate my goals for my health and life without being obsessed with the number on the scale, or tracking calories, or crushing myself with guilt about food choices.

It is a thousand times harder than I expected it to be.  Over the past year, though I don't know how much because I'm still committed to not weighing myself, I've slowly gotten bigger and bigger.  I'm still exercising and eating sensibly, but apparently if I don't obsess and restrict and go crazy, my body doesn't want to be that smaller size.  It is incredibly frustrating to feel the pounds come back on and have to buy bigger clothes.  I have paid a lot of lip service to not valuing myself by my weight, size, or physical appearance, but saying it is a heck of a lot easier than really believing it.

So back to my birthday.  For the last five years I've felt every year like I was making progress, going forward, getting more and more awesome.  But this year I just felt like crap.  And I was walking around for weeks beforehand with all these negative thoughts and feelings swirling around in my brain, feeding on themselves and growing bigger and bigger until it was all I could think about.  I couldn't see my many other great qualities, or the fact that my appearance is just one small part of my identity and life. It was a dark cloud from which I felt like there was no escape.

I started thinking about writing this post, but realized that I hadn't even talked about it to another human being.  And that maybe that would be helpful.  And that, just maybe, I should talk about it to my husband, who I know without a doubt loves me.  Duh.

So, the night after my birthday, I spilled my guts and cried on his shoulder (literally) for an hour.  And since I had been holding all this in pretty effectively, I'm sure it was kind of blindsiding for him.  And guess what: he didn't have any miraculous fixes for me.  He just let me talk it all out and tried to reassure me.

And when I woke up in the morning, I felt much better.  I don't mean to say that I was suddenly okay with everything about my body image and my self worth, but things were more proportionate with the rest of my life.  I was able to see that yes, I was unhappy with that one area, but I was also growing in many other areas of my life that I was very proud of.  I was able to stop obsessing -- instead of could see taking things one step, one choice at a time.  The dark cloud lifted.

While we were talking about it, my dear husband was sorry that he didn't have any answers for me.  He joked, "I could suggest leeches..." I replied, "Well, as a lover of the Jane Austen time period I should be all over those old-fashioned methods."  Which made me think of bloodletting (stick with me here), where doctors would open up a vein or artery and drain some blood out of a patient in the hopes of getting rid of the bad blood making them sick.  When I finally opened up and poured out all the poison that had been swirling around in my head and heart for so long, it worked just that way.  I let it all out and that allowed healthier thoughts to come in.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that keeping negative thoughts and feelings bottled up is only going to make them stronger until they poison everything in your life.  I am grateful to have a loving and understanding husband I could talk to and I really wish I had done it sooner.  For you it might be a husband, friend, mom, sister, or just a journal where you write everything down.  This blog post is helpful for me, too.  I kept it in because I didn't want to admit that I was struggling with the changes I've made.  I didn't want to burden anyone else with my negative emotions.  But the truth is, my husband knew I was unhappy about something.  My mom knew.  My kids knew, because by the time I finally let it out I was not a particularly cheerful person to be around.  So I wasn't fooling anyone anyway.

I realize that many people upon reading this would think, "Duh."  But for those who are like me, and have a difficult time talking about hard things, I hope this will empower you to open up your heart to someone you trust.

The difference between "owning it" and "you're on your own."

The other day I posted this quote from Albert Ellis:  "The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own.  You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president.  You realize that you control your own destiny."  


Then I received this comment from a reader named Genevieve:  "I agree that it's up to us, but I also think sometimes we need help. I went to a funeral today for a woman who apparently didn't have help, and her "demons" got the best of her. So tragic."


It struck me that there is a disconnect here between what I read in that quote and what she got from it.  After  reading both the quote and her comment a few times, I could see her point and felt that I needed to address it.


To me, this thought is all about the blame game.  There are so many times that we want to shift the blame for our problems to other people or to circumstances beyond our control.  "I wouldn't be so fat if my parents had taught me better habits." "My kid would do better in school if the teacher would just pay more attention to him." That may seem easier, but in reality it takes away our power to change our lives.  Taking responsibility for our lives can be scary, but it also means that we can make changes and decisions that will be true happiness and peace.    Other people and circumstances do affect our lives, but we cannot allow them to control us.  We "own" who we are, imperfections and all, in order to become who we want to be.


I think the danger in this thought, and what Genevieve was observant enough to pick up on, is if you just focus on the phrase "your problems are your own."  Believing that our problems are entirely our own affair can wall us off from the people around us, as I wrote about in a previous post "I thought I was the only one..."  We must be willing to let our guard down and let people in so that we can get help when we need it.  And everyone needs help once in a while.  Admitting that we need help empowers other to ask for help as well.  Sometimes we need a strong shoulder to lean on (or cry on), and sometimes we can be that person for someone else.  But if we keep up a facade of perfection, we are cut off from both roles.  We can't ask for help, and others don't feel comfortable asking it of us.


Taking control of your life should not mean that you are on your own.  It means that you face yourself and your choices with honesty, changing what you can and allowing yourself to ask for help where you need it.


Now, I'm going to go quit blaming the over-flowing closets on a mutant outgrown-clothes breeding phenomenon and do some de-cluttering.  Feel free to come over and help if you want... :)

Motherhood Matters

Happy Mother's Day to all you beautiful women out there, both those who are mothers in the traditional sense and also to those who bless the lives of everyone around them with their mothering influence.

This past week I have been participating in a challenge created by our local lifestyle show Studio 5 called Motherhood Matters, which they describe as "a campaign to inspire, encourage, and remind ourselves why motherhood matters." I can always use a reminder to find the joy in motherhood rather than getting sucked into the mundane, and I have really been enjoying completing the challenge each day.

The other day the challenge was to make a list of the skills and attributes that you bring to the role of mother, and for some reason I found that very challenging. What strengths do I bring to motherhood? At first, all I could come up with were my weaknesses. I get mad a really really lot more than I should be, I'm ridiculously disorganized and forgetful, I let them watch too much tv... the list could go on and on. So before I got too bogged down in berating myself, I decided that I would commit to posting here about my positive strengths and attributes so that I have it in black and white. I haven't really started coming up with anything yet, so we'll see how it goes:

1. I am willing to admit when I'm wrong and ask my kids' forgiveness. I try really hard to own up to my part when things go amuck.
2. I tell them I love them a gazillion times a day. So far they are not old enough to be embarrassed by this.
3. I try to tell them specific reasons why I think they're great and why I'm proud of them.
4. I try to give them lots of opportunities for creativity (both in the artsy-crafty way and also just in their thinking).
5. I believe in God and Jesus Christ, and I am working hard to create an environment where their Spirit can be felt.
6. I am not "too cool" to run around and play and be silly with them. (Of course, if you knew me you'd probably say that I'm not in grave danger of being "too cool" for anything...)
7. I will never, never stop trying to be a better mom for them.

I am not trying to toot my own horn here. I know that for every one thing I get right, I probably make two giant mothering mistakes. Or miss some huge opportunity to love and nurture the way I should. I'm sure we all feel that way. And Mother's Day, for some perverse reason, frequently just makes moms feel more guilty, like we somehow don't measure up to all the praise. But this Mother's Day, please stop berating yourself for all your mothering imperfections and take a moment to appreciate your mothering strengths.  You have them, I guarantee -- otherwise, God would never have entrusted His precious children to your care.  Give yourself the gift of actually thinking about it and writing it down.  I'll bet you'll find you're a pretty awesome mom after all. :)

Happy Mother's Day!



Oh, and if you need a little encouragement, please watch this beautiful video about our true value as mothers: