Over the weekend, I read this post by Mama Laughlin.
Then this morning, I read this post by Chris McCombs.
Two very different people.
Two very different fitness goals and levels.
Both having the same point: sometimes, our outward appearance is directly correlated to what we feel our worth is.
I’ve touched on this before, but I think that it’s really important to touch on it again. I’ve never felt like I’m pretty. Ever. Of course, my wonderful mother told me everyday that I was her beautiful baby, but I always felt like, “she’s my mother. She has to tell me that.” In high school, like a lot of girls, I felt like I was fat. I constantly compared myself to other girls and wondered why I couldn’t just be like them.
There were things I never admitted to myself, much less other people.
When I got to college and started gaining weight, I became even harder on myself. Like Mama Laughlin, I started trying to build myself in other areas because I felt deficient in the appearance areas. I tried to be a really great girlfriend because I felt badly that my college boyfriend had to be with someone that looked like me and weighed what I weighed. I tried to compensate by being the funny one, the smart one, the whatever one.
I didn’t feel worthy of being loved.
I would run away from love because I would tell myself, “they don’t know what they’re doing.”
I, honestly, didn’t love myself. I couldn’t show my own body that I loved it by treating it right, how could someone else love me?
Cliche as it sounds, I didn’t really feel confident until I started working out and losing weight. I was putting so much time and energy into my body–and myself–that I began being proud of how it looked.
I dressed differently.
I acted differently.
Even more importantly, I began treating people differently. I stopped tolerating people who weren’t respecting me. I stopped trying to make myself acceptable to them by lowering my standards.
I stopped thinking I had to settle for someone who would tolerate me.
Throughout this past year long journey, my ability to love other has changed because I finally feel capable of loving myself.
Sometimes, there are still days that I hate my thighs or my one dimple on my left cheek or my tummy.
But I’m not someone that has to be tolerated anymore.
I am worthy.
The journey I’m on may be difficult.
I often have set backs.
I sometimes fall off the wagon.
But I always love me.
Every second of everyday.