Once upon a time there was a girl whose hobby was weight loss. For the most part, her thoughts were consumed by it. She thought about food, calories, and macros all the time. Her weight and her body was constantly on her mind.
Her favorite pastime was looking in the mirror, meticulously scrutinizing areas of her body that could be a little bit tighter.
This was a shell of a girl. She was empty inside. She was consumed by her obsession, and for why?
What was driving this addiction to perfecting her body? In a world where there is so much to be thankful for, so much to see and do and have and be, why was she wasting away her life so focused on something so disheartening?
- Maybe somewhere along the way she learned that perfection equals reward. That the only thing better than an A was an A+.
- Maybe she learned that the level of “perfection” you see in magazines leads to incredible abundance and success, which just fed even more into her need to succeed to feel valued.
- Maybe she felt out of control or unfulfilled in other areas of her life and her body was the one area that she felt she had 100% control over.
Whatever it was, that driver was strong. And that makes me sad. Because I look at her and I see the incredible beauty inside that was bursting to shine.
You see, she had this incredible fire, this light. A light that people sometimes got a glimpse of but mostly only for a second or two until she had a chance to stuff it away and hide it again.
She was afraid to let it shine for fear of being judged. For fear of being seen, like really seen. For fear of letting someone see her true self and then being rejected.