Well, the definition of bondage is as follows:
the state of being bound by or subjected to some external power or control.
This particular blog post has everything to do with me and the bondage that I have been dealing with for approximately 20 years. I have been in complete bondage to the scale. Crazy as it sounds, I have been. My bathroom scale has external power and control over me, my emotions, my thoughts, and even my behaviors. For hundreds of days, I have woken up to either elation or disappointment as I make my way to the scale, step on, and look at the blinking number that appears before me. I have been known to go from being a completely happy morning person to a grumpy sour puss after getting on the bathroom scale. I have also been known to let those emotions control me for an entire day not to mention an entire week.
It is absolutely no secret that I have had "food dysfunctions" in the past. (That is the term I am now using to describe what professionals would call an eating disorder. Just so everyone is on the same page...) I have had periods in my life where I am able to cope, deal, and control my "dysfunction" better than others. For example, around the time of my wedding, I was what you would call a dieting nightmare. Obsessed with all things weight. Then despite heavy concerns from my husband, I did become pregnant and actually handled the weight gain rather well - all things considered. And then the waxing and waning continued. Periods where I felt good about myself, and periods where I was an absolute grouch to be around -especially if there was food around.
The very sad part to my story is how fully aware I am of what I am doing, what I am thinking, and how I am acting. I am not oblivious. Because I have been living like this for so long, I am so keenly aware of how much body image, calories, fat, and food affect my life. I'm no dummy. I know that at times I am doing things that I know are unhealthy for me and I would absolutely cringe if I knew my girls were doing - but yet the number on the scale has me pulled in. Many times I will do just about anything to move that number down on the scale.
Well, the point of my long winded story is this....I refuse to live in bondage anymore. I refuse to wake up each morning and dread walking into the bathroom for fear that I will step on the scale and be repulsed by what I see. I refuse to be a hypocrite to my children whom I am constantly telling they are beautiful and perfect because that is how God made them, yet not believe the concept myself. I refuse to be a bad example to the two girls I am called to protect.
So with that being said, I have begun a journey - a journey of self-acceptance. I have a feeling this journey is going to take longer than my 1/2 marathon and I'm going to need twice as much endurance to get me through. I have asked Dave to confiscate my scale (to which he did and hid so I can not sneak a peak.) I woke up the is morning and felt almost naked when I walked in to brush my teeth and looked over to the spot in which my scale has resided. I had the urge to recant my request and ask for it back - but I didn't. I resisted the urge to step on the scale at the gym. I am resisting the call of Satan, who in my mind is telling me this is an area I can't overcome. I resisting the idea that I must live in bondage to my scale. I won't. I have wasted too much of my life being controlled by weight. So in essence, I'm not really sure what I'm hoping to accomplish on my "road to self acceptance." Maybe it is just to live without a scale in my house, maybe it will be to look in the mirror and accept myself for who I am, or maybe it will be to simply lose the idea that I have to count every calorie going into my mouth. Who knows, but what I do know is that I'm ready for this journey to begin.