10/12/2022
Dear jeans,
I used to let the size of you determine a sliver of my worthiness. And when I say sliver, I mean Costco-sized.
I obsessed over you.
I remember when I couldn’t button you.
I remember that whole season of my life like it was yesterday… I went out and bought clothes two sizes too big so I could hide inside of them.
I could exhale, despite those tight jeans under my oversized crew necks.
I remember when I would choose to be cold over wearing a puffy jacket so that my body wouldn’t appear any bigger than it already was.
That thought brings me back to a moment when I was 10 years old. My mom and I were walking out of the grocery store and we ran into a family friend we hadn’t seen in about a year. “Wow Steph! Look at you, you’re getting so big!” Of course, they were talking about my natural growth as a 10 year old girl. Yet already, barely a decade old, my heart knew body shaming ridicule so deeply I said “it’s probably just my puffy jacket.” I remember that moment so vividly. There were pumpkins outside on display. My jacket was blue, and had a fuzzy hood. I wore it to school a lot, and I stopped shortly after that moment. Recess that year totally sucked, I was freezing. And ashamed of my body. I remember what I was wearing as much as I remember how much that innocent comment crushed me.
How would I know the difference between innocent and evil comments, though? I was constantly ridiculed at home about my weight or if I was caught having an after school snack.
My dad stood in my doorway once, drunk, and told me nobody would love me with “a body like that.”
I was 12. Ouch.
Today, 75 pounds later, I still change my clothes 6 times before I leave the house. But that’s good, because it used to be 14 times. And what I know now is this…
It was never about my body or what it looked like or what size jeans I was putting on.
It was the stories I was running on a loop in my mind. It was how I bullied myself in the mirror. It was about accepting comments from other people as truth while they were wading through a world of their own pain and insecurity that they projected onto me.
Losing 75 pounds has nothing to do with the narrative I’m telling myself. Those stories don’t go away with fasting, calorie counting, eating salads or monitoring my carb intake.
I’m zipping a size medium and still feeling the same insecurity and picking myself apart in the mirror.
I could trace back these insecurities to my dad telling me “eating isn’t good for you” while sitting at the dinner table, mean kids at school, or impossible beauty standards constantly bombarding media… but the truth is… it all comes down to my mindset and what thoughts I’m choosing to engage.
The irony is that mindset, coaching, conscious thought work is my life’s mission.
But then again, is it really irony? Or is it the most divinely aligned lesson for me to experience right now? To have illuminated this blind spot and bring more shadows to the light. To help more people see.
To sit in my self-awareness, objectively watch my thoughts and see where else needs healing.
Body image is the longest battle I’ve endured, and I know I’m not the only one in this arena.
It’s exhausting. I just want to put my gloves down. And I know you do, too.
Nobody could have told me I’d still feel insecurity and self doubt at this point in my journey. I’ve heard of this, yes, and always thought “whatever, all MY problems would go away if I felt good in my body.”
I was partially right. I feel really good in a lot
of ways! And proud. And excited. And sexy. And happy. But I feel this nudge in my soul to start talking about this feeling that still exists despite what my body looks like today.
I know I’m not alone. And I know there are people reading this right now who think once they lose the weight, they’ll feel better. And you will. But not completely if you aren’t doing the conscious thought work around the transformation you’re going through. Not if you aren’t mending the wounds underneath the shapewear.
What if you chose to simply love your body today? What if you decided that you are worthy just for existing? What if everything you did today stemmed from the decision to believe that you are good enough as you are, that you are lovable, accepted and an absolutely radiant human being.
Do that. Choose that. Because that is the truth. And subscribing to the truth of that changes everything else. It’s a ripple effect.
I love you. I love me. We are worthy because we exist.
I’m here for you, in full transparency.