After days of what I think of as useless exercises, we finally got to something that I found much more helpful. Today we had to look back on our relationship with food and body image and write about it in chronological order.

I realized that I do not remember a time when I did not have body issues. I started gaining weight at a young age, something that my parents take full responsibility for. However, what they don’t seem to realize that they’re reaction to it only made it worse. They pointed it out to me regularly; made comments as to the amounts I was eating and made eyes at me when I went for seconds. As I’ve said before, being so self-conscious about my weight prevented me from ever reaching a truly worrisome point, it made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, and being compared to friends made me feel like they were better than me. To this day I see where and how my friends out shine me and feel a pang of jealousy when my mom compliments them. I finally faced the fact that it makes me feel like she wants me to be more like them, and I will not be worthy unless I behave that way.  I feel ridiculous and ashamed that at 23 I still suffer from neurosis we generally attribute to pubescent kids!

What I don’t understand is that if being heavier made me feel less loved, why wouldn’t I do what it takes to get loved? Perhaps it was fear that making that effort and not getting the results I wanted, namely my parents’ approval and the opposite sexes’ attention that my friends got so I sabotaged all the effort I had made when I tried to lose weight.

When I reached that ideal weight a few years ago, I got that approval wow affect I wanted from my mom. So I became crazy determined to keep it off. However, I still could not let go of that idea that my friends were more attractive than I am, that I had to keep trying to be more like them. It didn’t help that all my friends were in couples and I was always friendzoned. After my 2010 breakdown, I realized that I lost that will to fight because I no longer knew what I was fighting for. I wasn’t doing well in school, I suffered my first “heart break”, I was confused and I just let go. Letting go made it worse because I hated myself for giving up. That what am I fighting for question ran deep. I wasn’t getting boys, I’m a failure why should I even try because I won’t get what I want. Basically a never ending cycle. I actually don’t know what I just ranted about…sorry if it’s confusing. I think I just needed to talk about this a little more than a few notes on my iphone’s notepad!

A new level was passed today. I resisted fries! No resisted is not the right word because that implies that there was a struggle. We got a plate to share, I had 4 small ones, and that was all, I knew on my own that I didn’t want them, I didn’t even feel like I was missing out when I saw them smothering these crispy sticks in ketchup! To many that isn’t much, to me, after a year of inability to resist anything edible, that was prize worthy! Crossing my fingers that I can carry this on! That I strong enough to keep going!