Too Fat For Love
I saw the picture and almost threw it away, but something stopped me.
I set it down and went to other things, but later my husband noticed the picture."Who's this?" he laughed awkwardly, afraid to say what we both knew.
The picture was of me, right before eating disorders would tear me apart for the next 15 years. I was 16 years old and a size 12-14. I hated myself.
And when I saw the picture, I still hated her.
I wanted this picture and her to disappear. I wanted her to land in the trash and die in some landfill. And after a moments time, I understood that even after so many years of therapy and recovery and working on myself, I still struggle to accept that girl who abhorred being fat.
The 'nearly a woman' who would rather die than continue living overweight. And that sweet child who would spend years of her life obsessing over food, then later alcohol -- trying to moderate things that felt destined to consume her.
But I kept the picture, and I looked at her again and said 'sweet girl.' you are worthy of love at 100 pounds or a 1,000 pounds. But inside I wasn’t quite sure I believed it.
And I recognize that until I can reach a point of believing that for myself, I will remain a work in progress. There is no destination on the path of recovery.
Today on my sobriety meeting, someone said, "You don't have to be further along, you just have to keep going."
I must honor that girl in the picture. I must love her the same way I honor and love the girl who kneeled over a toilet bowl for years.
I owe it to her.
Because I am her.
I may be older, more resilient and with some smile lines and wrinkles, but she is still inside me… calling, crying, and begging for love.
I still am her, and I'm exactly in the right place of my recovery — because I keep going.