I miss the days where I could drop 10 pounds just by eating apples and popcorn. In my thirties I  went through a stressful stage in life where I quit eating and dropped 35 pounds in 2 months. Even then at 140 pounds I thought I looked fat and obese. Then I put on another 20 pounds.

Unfortunately, over the last few years I have gained another 60 pounds, which I attribute to the obscene number of psychotropic medications I take to keep my brain on the level. At 220 I felt morbidly obese. 80 pounds difference, an increase of almost 35%. Sadly, I have realized that I feel as terrible about myself as I did at 140 pounds. The endless frustration that I cannot quit taking medication eats at me every day. The subject of body image has become a weightier issue than I ever could imagine.

I look in the mirror and see a fat middle aging woman. I examine myself from all sides and look at the number on the scale and let it measure my worth. The only thing that keeps me from being overly obsessive is the fact that I work out hard five days a week and am stronger and in better shape than I ever have been in my adult life. But my self esteem has taken the hit.

I don’t want to see new people or people I have known in the past. I can’t stand to look in the mirror and I don’t ever want to see pictures of myself.

When did I begin to measure my worth by numbers and inches?  When did I become so dissatisfied with myself that I could whittle my value down to what I look like in the mirror? I would never look at another person and feel like their weight was equal to their worth.  But my judgement of myself is skewed, warped.

I know it’s time to shed the fat of my ill logical and harmful thinking that says I am what I look like. I am more than my body and I am more than my clothing size.  I am a beautiful soul and a loving heart.  I am the mother of four beautiful children who have in turn brought other beautiful people into our lives.  I am the beloved wife of one friend to many. I am talented, smart and beautiful. I am so much more than what the scale says of me.

Poor body image and self loathing absorbs our souls. If allowed to run amok it will spread like cancer, dictating our moods and days, sucking all the joy and peace out of our days, leaving nothing good left to share with those we love. It’s time for a deep change. I’m not sure how to get there but Ima try and figure it out.

I told my therapist the other day that I would rather be crazy than fat. It’s not true – What I really want is to be whole and filled with grace for myself and others. I can accomplish that no matter what the scale says. I want that to be the true measure of who I am.