Before putting a hand to
the keyboard I take a deep breath in and then I exhale, because sharing this
part of my story is heavy for me. The
struggle is very much that—a literal struggle.
A struggle to sift through the lies in my head & find truth, a
struggle to shut off the voice that says I am too big, too much, unlovable if I
am not perfect. The struggle to eat
pizza without crying, the struggle to not believe I will gain twenty pounds
after I miss a day of cardio, the struggle to find my worth in things other
than the size found on my waistband, the struggle to look in the mirror & feel
beauty, instead of disgust.
The struggle to accept
myself for EXACTLY the person that I am, with no modifications, the struggle to
love myself, the struggle to just be me, to be still, to BE.
I do not remember the
exact age I started to experience insecurity with how I looked, or when I began
having a problem with the space I took up.
I remember starting to count calories freshman year of high school,
attempting to eat as little as possible, being fascinated with the skinny legs
of models found on glossy magazine pages.
These were brief moments, thoughts that came and went, none of the
habits held a lot of weight until my junior year. Around this time, my father & mother were
experiencing immense difficulty in their marriage, a lot of what I had known,
what I had believed in, was flipped on its head.
I became desperate to control something, ANYTHING, and the thing I chose
was: my body size. I am a dedicated and
motivated human being, when I hold a belief, or decide on something, I am all
in. These attributes tend to work in my
favor, though in the case of body dissatisfaction, they became my demise. My determination to change how I looked
became detrimental.
Days turned into weeks,
weeks turned into months and months turned into years, and within that time
there was a battle in my mind. I was
living in constant insecurity, every thing I did seemed to revolve around how I
looked, and how I could take up less space- shrink. There were times I believed that I was
nothing, worthy of nothing; I wanted to be so small that I became nothing. These thoughts turned into actions; daily
trips to the gym, regimented meal plans (crying, or inducing anxiety if I had to eat any
foods that I had deemed “dangerous”), obsessing over photos taken of me, LOOKING
for flaws, feeling my hip bones, my collar bone and my wrists to make sure they
were still jutting out, smiling in mirrors to be certain my chin was still
pointy and there were no hints of extra fat anywhere. I lost my period for a year. How is that I was so caught up in a lie that
when a part of what makes me a woman went missing, I responded with happiness? I weighed myself constantly and felt an
inappropriate amount of joy when I saw the number decrease. I fed off comments of, “You look skinny.” Or
“Look how thin your legs are.” I craved glances
of concern from my parents, or from friends.
I thought these things were giving me life, but they were only fueling my
death.
I did not have an AH-HA
moment of healing, or a breakdown that forced me to get treatment, as I mentioned
before, it was a struggle. It is a struggle. I wanted to get better, but at the same time,
I didn’t. I became so attached to my
eating, to my exercising, and to controlling my size that I did not know what
would happen when those obsessions were gone, what would I live for?!
But I was living for
something that was causing me to die.
Who would I be if I were
not struggling? Did I even know who I
was anymore? Could I ever actually
believe in my beauty? My sin became my identity,
the thing I identified with most became my struggle.
Time passed.
I grew in my faith; the
Lord called me out in my sin and invited me in to His arms. I went to counseling and talked with doctors that
were strangers, but what was extremely healing for me was not therapy couches,
or pamphlets explaining nutrition (those are helpful too!) What was healing for me were tears shed in
front of friends, it was vulnerability, inviting people into my struggle and
watching as they stayed. Confessing lies that I believed,
explaining to my parents what was difficult & what was helpful, expanding my circle, getting out of my
head and leaning into the love and support that was surrounding me, that was covering
me.
I asked my best friends
to eat meals with me so I actually enjoyed them, I asked them to question me if
they saw me working out more than once a day, I asked them for prayers when
all I could see was ugliness and I watched as they were patient. They showed me
love and ate with me and cried with me and made me popcorn (because it makes
everything better).
Things I am thankful for
through the struggle:
The provision of friends
and family
The power of vulnerability
The presence of grace
Above all else, the way
the Lord showered me with love.
Oftentimes, I felt so weak and alone and weary and He just held me. He did not expect me to do anything for
Him. So much of what surrounds eating disorders
is trying to PROVE something, trying to prove to myself that I am enough
exactly as I am, to the voices in our head, to others. But the Lord sat with me and saw my ENTIRE
struggle, all of my emptiness, and STILL CHOSE ME.
“But God demonstrates His own love for us in
this: While we were STILL sinners, Christ died for us.”
I have experienced the
struggle and I AM experiencing the struggle. I still have to remind myself that it is okay, it is GOOD to look in the mirror and think that I am beautiful, for years that was not a reality. The mirror was a source of disgust and hurt, my reflection reflected my outside, but also the hurt and ugliness happening on the inside.
The real problem with disordered eating, body image insecurity, etc. is
that those lies are difficult to permanently power off. The voices begin as whispers, gossip that you
participate in because you think its harmless and it is not really affecting you. However, once you invite those voices in,
they start getting louder and they take up more space in your brain. Eventually, they start screaming their lies,
so much so you cannot even distinguish truth from the lies anymore. But then you speak the lie out into the world,
and someone recognizes it for what it really is- a lie. So you keep spitting them out, getting rid of
those voices one by one until the screaming voices become a dull hum- some days
you cannot even hear them, other days the volume is turned up a notch and
the lies come back. It is okay though,
because you have your people now, you have the TRUTH and it is here to
stay. And the thing about truth is that
it will always, ALWAYS win. It will
always be constant and it will not fail you.
And the truth is,
wonderful humans reading this, the truth is you were created to be a temple,
the King looked at you and uttered the words, “She is a masterpiece and he is
GOOD, with her, and with him, I am well pleased.” The truth is you are NOT called to shrink,
you are not called ugly, or disgusting, your value is NOT tied up in what
society says. You were created as a
vessel to bring glory into this world, the very Glory of God. Take care of that vessel, love that vessel;
it is yours to cherish and to steward.
It was given to you as a
gift, now what will you do with it?
“PRAISE GOD, WHO IS ABLE TO DO IMMEASURABLY MORE
THAN WE COULD EVER ASK OR IMAGINE, TO HIM BE THE GLORY, FOREVER & EVER,
AMEN”
One Response to “II Weight of Glory Initiative II Lydia's Story II ”
Lydia, you beautiful creation! I can't thank you enough for sharing this. My heart skipped with excitement when your post popped up on my screen. :) I genuinely love you and am PRAYING that these past 9 (almost 10!) days will not just bless people now but will be something people can come back to and remember during their times of pain how God has not only come through for people but has broken bondage's, healed wounds and loved/restored everything beneath the darkness! <3
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