My first draft of this entry was about how pathetic I am, managing in six weeks of my weight loss program to put on a pound (not exactly in the spirit of this blog). But I scrapped that after I wrote this:
I had quite a (light bulb?) moment at the kiniesologist this week when I slightly lost it and cried my eyes out. Not something I like doing in front of anybody other than perhaps my husband and then I don't like it either. I would prefer that everybody thinks of me as a very strong person. (I do not see tears as a sign of weakness in other people by the way - this is just a standard I have set for myself !?!)
So talking to the kiniesologist I connected some dots from the past and how I have such strong emotions around food. I am of course aware of all the individual experiences but had never made the real connection. And as much as it chokes me to say it, I think I have some healing to do because (never thought I might say this either) I am carrying a rather hurt and hyper sensitive child around with me.
What I could not understand all this time is how I could have such a great life (thanks
Kind of makes sense when I put it this way. I have read a lot about weight problems and their supposed link to the past. But to be honest, I thought is was a bit of an excuse for fat people to whinge about how bad their past was and not take responsibility for themselves today. And anyway, my childhood and youth was not bad, so all this stuff I read about never applied to me.
Where I am now with this is that I am acknowledging that I have been through some unusual and challenging experiences in my childhood and youth. If I thought that any child I knew had to go through them today the way I had, I would be horrified and would do my utmost to protect them.
Overall I am very happy with who these experiences have helped me become and I would not change anything. But at the same time I need to acknowledge that my relationship with food and my self confidence are fragile creatures because of them. So I have many facets to my personality, one of them - my inner child has a strong need to be acknowledged, nurtured, loved and needs to come out and play without having to carry the responsibility for my weight on its shoulders. This all could of course be total bollocks but early indications are good.
Better hit the publish button before I change my mind to tell the world that I might not be perfect
Saturday 9 February 2008
Light bulb moment?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
What, I wonder is perfect. And would I like it if I saw it? Maybe in food and drink but not much else.
For me perfection is paradoxical because I seem to like things that have, what some people might regard as, flaws.
If I think about the things I really like, they all have “imperfections”. If Joe Strummer had a voice like Pavarotti would I love him so? If Pavarotti had looked like Brad Pitt would people have loved him so much? It seems to me that, in people in particular, we are attracted by the flaws that highlight the “perfection” of the rest. Whether it is a scar on the skin or a scar on the soul, we are attracted to those who are not perfect.
So to me, you are perfect.
Now that is a real "Liebeserklaerung"!
I would like to add that it is those imperfect moments, those challenges, those humble defeating times, those moments of crisis, of losing it and so many more "weak moments", that make people interesting to me and allow them to shine, because to every light there is a darkness otherwise it wouldnt be.
Dr Wayne Dyer grew up in an orphanage, Louise Hay was sexually and physically abused for many years, Johnny Cash couldnt live without his drugs and so the list goes on and on and it is the roughness that brings out the smooth and it is the authenticity of how the stories and incidents are dealt with that makes things come alive and real and inspiring.
Doris, your striving for perfection is the opposite of your playfullness, which I wish you so much fun with!
Hugs, from hopefully an imperfect friend, to you.
Post a Comment