I mentioned on a previous post that I have been working on making food less of a stress in my life. Growing up, I was told I was too skinny, I was small, and was questioned if I was eating enough by many people.
Food became like something to prove to myself and to others, so it’s a story I’ve been trying to rewrite. I joined nutrition programs, attempted to read and follow the latest research. I guess my goal was to be healthy, but not constrained and to find a love for food and cooking and the creativity you can have behind it.
I found myself trying to figure out what was the best for me. I would follow a 5 meals a day plan, a snacks along the way idea and so many others, but it felt forced and not right. I found myself picking apart my body and being hard on myself if I forgot to make a meal and was feeling hungry. There was a shame attached that was almost beginning to trigger anxiety and a feeling of shame on myself.
I finally am finding my way. I know my stomach and my body and my mind. After struggling for a year with panic attacks, I have learned how to feel my body and read what it is saying. I have learned to have grace and patience and understand on how to reset. I am finally letting food not be a stress and a to do list, but something fun and light and creative.
I stroll the aisles at the grocery store instead of ordering groceries online. I look for what inspires me. What do I see that I could turn in to something delicious or try that is new? As I learn to love the process of cooking and leaving behind the old stories that were written, I find that I am learning to take notice of the way that I speak to my body. I used to get upset with it if it had a buzz of anxiety. I’d get angry that it was bloated, or too crampy, or short, or not as womanly as I’d desire. As I see the narrative I’ve scripted, I am learning to rewrite it into a beautiful one. I am learning to speak kindly to it, just like I would to a student who was hard on themselves for a test score.
I am appreciating being 28 and my body transforming into more womanly traits. I am doing my best to not cling to a girl like body that it used to be. I don’t know why I write this then to say, take notice of the way you speak to yourself. What is your narrative, your script, the reel you let play over and over? Is it the same way you’d speak to a friend? Is it the patience you would have with your son or your daughter? Why do we find it okay to bring ourselves into this shame pit, yet we’d be so down hearted if those we love said the same things about themselves?
Stop pinching, poking, sucking in, or covering up (unless you just like covering up, then you do you girl). Wear the crop top you have always wanted to rock. Buy the bikini. Ask for the raise. Take the job. Send the DM. Stop telling yourself any story different because you my friend are so good and the world needs a little bit more of you, every part of you.
Thanks for listening to my rants about what I am learning.