.png)
Introducing Rosie's Journey of Mind, Spirit and Body
Hello all, welcome to my Monday blog.
The plan is to talk about my continuing journey to becoming the person I have always been, even if I haven’t entirely made it to the destination. I hope you can find some little nugget of insight that will lead you on your own path.
Where to start?
I thought about a traditional story, but I don’t want to do that with this blog. Of course, it will gradually come to light as I talk through the issues each week. But I am not a traditional person, so why start now?
Here we go…….
I was always the fat chick. That was my role. It was a part of who I was. It was part of my self-description.
Think about that! Let it sink in!
When people asked me to describe myself, The first thing I would say wasn’t intelligent, funny or quirky. It wasn’t that I have blue-grey eyes or that I have thick curly hair. It was ALWAYS that I’m a fat chick.
Why did I do that? I suppose it was the most obvious physical trait about myself. You couldn't miss it, so why not face it head-on?
Everyone feels they have that right to say things to you. Strangers on the street, friends and family members, whether their intentions were good, wanted to make sure I understood that I was fat. As if it wasn't already painfully aware to me every time I looked at myself in a mirror.
As someone who suffers from anxiety and is prone to panic attacks, having people tell me I’m fat before I had a chance of acknowledging it to them gave them power over me. It would only add to the anxiety and feelings of inadequacy that I had. Saying it before they had the chance was like a shield of armour protecting myself from that negativity. Not letting them say it out loud before I did would make me feel less judged by them.
But the reality was, I was already judging myself.
The problem with calling myself the fat chick was it became a part of me to the point that I couldn’t do anything to change the course of my life. Once I said it enough, it became who I was as much as any other point of description. And once it became the first descriptor, there was no way I could walk away from it.
It’s no wonder that I couldn’t lose the weight. Or I could lose it and not keep it off. The minute I had that internally as part of who I am, I had sealed my fate.
Early in this iteration of my journey (maybe a month in), I realized that I had so identified myself as the fat chick that I didn’t know what else I was. Of course, there is so much more to me. There always has been, but I couldn’t figure out who I was.
It was then that I realized I had to change the narrative of who I am. If I identified as the fat chick, it didn’t matter if I hit goal weight. I would always go back to that fat chick who was sad, anxious and miserable. I would never be able to move forward in my life without changing the narrative.
Before I finish, I would like to say that people come in all shapes and sizes. No one should ever feel they are less of a person because of their size, shape, skin colour, whom they love, or how they identify. I am not judgmental, and this is about me, not anyone else.
So go out in the world and love not only those around you but yourself.