New Love, Renewed Drive
A Waste of Time
This week, I’ve come to a realization: living in the past is equal parts a waste of time and an affliction of the mind that only I can cure. The last 12 months have witnessed me lamenting – whining, if you will – about the wrongs I’ve suffered at the hands of others. During this pity party, I have lost sight of life’s most important aspect: when one door closes, another one opens. And it doesn’t matter what size you are, you only have to open your eyes and reach for what’s in front of you.
If I’ve been the victim of anything, it’s been that of trusting the wrong people. Maybe this is my fault and maybe it’s not, but I've found that doesn’t matter. What does matter is realizing I’ve been previously hurt by a handful of bad men, and now I have the choice to hide behind that hurt or build my life again - making it into what I want, instead of that which is dictated to me by another.
These revelations have also facilitated a renewed belief in love. Up to this point, I’ve stopped seeing myself as a lovable person because 1) I’ve been hurt in the past, and 2) I’m a plus-sized woman. After all, big girls are never portrayed as the princesses who receive grand, happy endings. In fact, big girls are usually the villains. Is it any wonder our body images sorely need help?
Love at Last
But I’ve met someone who, at last, loves me for who I am. He doesn’t chide my weight, look longingly at other women, or try to improve me in ways that would completely distort who I am. He doesn’t care if I lose 30 pounds or choose to eat potato chips before bed. His love is big enough to accept me as I am right now, which means he isn’t waiting for me to emerge as a svelte butterfly who will capture the hearts of all she meets.
The way he sees me has influenced my own belief system, not because I’ve needed validation that I am a worthy human being, but because he’s opened my eyes to the good I have inside me. My weight doesn’t preclude me from leaving my own stamp on the world, from making some sort of noticeable difference. And that’s what I intend to do from now on, without strapping my baggage around my foot like a ball and chain. In fact, I dropped that baggage in some remote corner of the solar system and don’t intend to ever see it again. I’m finished with it.
Of course, having said all this, I’m still at Curves and still struggling against the resistance machines that seem to have personal vendettas against me. Being loved doesn’t mean I want to remain overweight; instead, it’s renewed my confidence and drive. I finally believe I can win this battle, and I’m prepared to fight with all my strength. Last week, I lost two pounds. It’s not much, but it offers proof that I can do more with myself than hold down the couch and wallow in misery. So here’s to tomorrow, a day filled with the promise of new beginnings.