I’m guilty of this. I still do this to myself from time to time. I don’t think I consciously do it. I think it became an ingrained habit over the years.
I pulled myself out of body shaming myself just 2 nights ago. I was rifling through our honeymoon pictures from last October and realized how thin I was. But back then, in preparation for my wedding, I was still in full-blown denial about my weight loss. I didn’t see any changes even though all my friends had commented on my radical slim down.
I was a hamster in a wheel; not the runner who crossed the finish line. I had it all wrong.
I can’t believe I thought I was chubby before. Why do we always do this? Why do we never appreciate what we have in the present? Why do we always have to judge ourselves with a quizzical eye and think that we’re not good enough?
I’m all for striving to reach your best and being at your potential. But when does that line end and its’ sinister perfectionist sister emerge? Speaking from the heart, I don’t think I have that answer right now. This is something I’ll have to deal with postpartum.
It’s always 5 more pounds, another mile run, not eating after 6, suddenly developing a gluten-allergy, exercising on the elliptical until you complain about elliptical elbow or the runner’s knee. There’s always another goal. There’s always something more to attain to achieve that body. It’s tragic, really.
- Do any of you have this dilemma? And if so, how do you keep yourself grounded?