Sorry I’ve been away for a while! Busy month with a few restrictions. Here I am to tell a pretty vulnerable story in hopes that it will bring some courage and confidence to others out there who may not always feel at their best.
Walking into the month of India, a completely new culture than the first few months of the race so far, I knew there would be changes. One big change is the blunt speech; people don’t see any need to sugar coat or really keep things secret from you. Privacy and independence aren’t the highest of values. In the US, we are so used to not wanting to hurt each other’s feelings and following the “we don’t talk about that” rule more often than talking about anything. We are afraid to offend and also tend to think more about what we say: this is how we show love. In other cultures, speaking openly and straight is showing love, holding back would not be loving.
Now, I tend to think of myself as a fairly strong person (emotionally, mentally). I tend to believe that people can’t hurt me if I just thicken my skin. I don’t want to be offendable so I just laugh stuff off or shrug my shoulders and let it roll off my back. I mean within a few hours of being in the country, I found myself explaining to my teammates “It’s ok. It’s just their culture to comment on body types. They don’t mean anything harsh by it”. I did feel the embarrassment but that is different than shame. It was okay because I understood.
What I didn’t expect was for my thick skin to be pierced. I never expected for the words to be repeated over and over until it got to me. For a child to look at my shorter, smaller teammate and say “you’re a little big girl” and then to glance at me and mention “you’re a fat big girl. Fat fat fat!”. To be surrounded by comments like “some people who are..”blessed” a lot just can’t wear that”, “surely you’ll need a bigger size” before even trying it on, “those with the big hips can sit here so we aren’t all squished”, “why are you so fat?”, or “well us thicker people just can’t do that amirite?”. There were more, some harder to hear than others, but eventually they all began to chip at me.
This isn’t new to me. I’ve struggled with my weight since I was in elementary school. My mother took me to a nutritionist for the first time when I was in 4th or 5th grade. I remember learning about “red, yellow, and green” foods. I learned to quantity control. To be careful about the number on the scale. Even to watch what the tag in the back of my gauchos said. I was 11.
Subtly, I learned to look at women and compare myself. I heard my sisters beat themselves up about what they ate, what they looked like, and overall how they just felt bad about themselves. I watched my mother question clothes that she looked beautiful in because she didn’t know if her figure was good enough. The worst part was I was always (at least in my perception) larger than those who were complaining about their outward appearance or weight. No one taught me verbally that I was worth what I looked like, but I learned it all the same. I watched beautiful girls starve themselves to feel just a little bit better, maybe gain a compliment, or just to buy a size smaller. I started to think a size medium T-shirt was too large. That big hips were the worst thing in the world. That “beautiful” was never the definition of who I was.
In my first year of high school I was about 140 pounds, mostly muscle mass from years of basketball (those thighs and abs though), a size small in tops, an 8/9 in dresses, and honestly healthy for my height and proportions. I woke up and looked at my skinniness, felt great, and went on my way. However, then I went around my friends who were shorter, cuter, and even smaller than I. The doctor said I was fine. But then why is everyone else beautiful and 120lbs or less? How come those guys didn’t look at me? How come I wasn’t cool enough for them? How come I couldn’t be content?
This turned into a deeper struggle than weight. I had deep rooted confusion and dislike for my identity and self esteem. I lacked self confidence unless I was being noticed. So, I then would do anything to get noticed. I started dating about a year later and didn’t stop dating until about a year ago. I always had to know someone was interested in me. As soon as one left, I needed to know someone else loved me. This strained friendships too. Comparing myself to those around me in the worst of ways when they could never do anything about it anyway. I never wanted them to change, I just wanted to be like them. I envied them.
It didn’t help that I gained weight as I quit basketball and pursued music. I was good at music. People noticed. More recognition felt great, but that meant I needed it even more. Like a drug: the more you get, and the better it is, the more you need it to feel good. So music made people notice me, but I still didn’t feel attractive, just talented. Especially, after gaining a ton of weight. Of course I had to be the best at music to prove myself, but that didn’t change my putter appearance. Especially when I wasn’t always the best at music, my identify would surely fail. I turned to guys for approval thinking surely I’ll care for me if someone else does. What a vicious cycle I entered into.
Let me spare you the lengthy details while keeping the important information. I got trapped in a year and a half long abusive relationship at the age of 16. I went into depression after finally breaking the cycle. He of course broke me before we ended things to make me feel worth nothing. When I found a friend who cared to love me for me, I found God again and leaned in. But then the pressures of being good enough to fit in started all over again freshman year in college. I was lost and I took that out on people who cared. They called me out for going off the edge; I claimed they just didn’t get it. I ruined things for a while. During that period, I went back to not eating or at least as much, throwing up my food every once in a while, and working out thinking this was healthy. I lost about 50lbs in 4 months. I gained it back that summer on mission in Africa. I broke up with the good guy out of insecurity and a lost vision for my life. I dated the next guy who cared for me, without a hint of time to heal. I put past feelings on him. I lost myself in, yet again, trying to be something I wasn’t. I wasn’t good enough. Even after being severely hurt by him and his past, I still was the one not good enough. I gained more weight. I stayed even without good reason. I got hurt again. I decided no more getting hurt and I lost myself all together. I became the person devoid of feelings. I started doing the hurting instead of being hurt. Long story short, it took a wake up call of depression, loneliness, weight gain and even danger for me to want to turn back around.
Somewhere in my last few years of college, I began to regain my life. I regained my strength, independence, and confidence. I wasn’t the smallest I could be, but I was me on solid ground and that was enough. I came back to God and began to listen to Him. It took a lot of working and nursing to health, but God broke down my walls and rebuilt the beautiful temple I was supposed to be in the first place. I walked with confidence in a way that was solely for me. I found myself in His identity. I was planted in the Word, knowing full well my worth and my beauty. I saw myself in the mirror without makeup and said “dang, she is beautiful. She is exactly who she is supposed to be” (thank you WinShape camps). I worshiped freely in this because I wanted to proclaim His glory.
I walked into The Race with that confidence. It took me taking my eyes off God and less than 2 weeks to knock all that down. As we all prepared for Easter Sunday, looking for the perfect Sari, I was on my 3rd to try on. I loved the colors, but the fit was off. The material didn’t elegantly drape off of my frame, it bulked up and wasn’t long enough to cover me. I looked wrapped in a bedsheet, not like a princess. Every try on, I was told “eh, I just think that fit isn’t for you”. Looking around at the beautiful girls with me, I couldn’t help but compared myself. Out of 30 saris, not one of these fit my frame. It took my host getting one of her own, a much larger one, to fit my frame. This was a lovely, kind moment on her part trying to help. Yet, all I could see was what I hated about myself. I spent that night crying and thinking back to college when I lost myself over these issues.
I had a choice to make. I could ruin myself again trying to gain what I thought would make me happy, or I could turn back to the solid ground I once walked on. It took some time, but I decided I never wanted to go back to the way I once felt, lost in darkness, trapped in an unending cycle of gaining attention and pleasing people just to feel a glimmer of worth. I leaned into my team and the people who loved me. I leaned deeper into the secret place of God. I reminded myself daily: I am worthy, I am fully known, I am deeply loved, I am chosen, I am beautiful, and I am going to continue trying to be the best me I can. It may take time, but all consistent and good things do. I will refuse to let the darkness snuff out my light in this way. I don’t need people to notice me to feel great about myself. I love me, for me. I love me because God loves me. I choose me because—after all I did, after all I will do—He chose me none the less. I leave behind my superficial wants and insecurities and self hate because I refuse to die internally to them. Jesus died once and chose me to live—I won’t lose this gift of life and exceptionally more. I will live it and love it.
I encourage you all to take a second and think about those things you nitpick daily on. That wrinkle, extra roll on the tummy, the cellulite, or even things such as your house, your car, outfit, or personality flaw. Then think about how you’d like to change it. Ask yourself: can I change this is 5 seconds? Even 5 minutes? If yes, fix a problem. If not, GIVE YOURSELF GRACE. Instead of nitpick, think of Ephesians 2:10 and say thank you God for making me a masterpiece. I see that no flaw in my eye ruins the whole of the work of art in Yours. Thank you for your unique handprint on me. For loving me. I will choose today to love myself.
This may seem like a jumbled mess to some, especially my nit picky mind of perfection. But here I am, not trying to prove myself. I just wanted to tell a vulnerable story of some hard moments where I learned (and continue to learn) my worth. Im just trying to remind you that you’re worth it too. God can make that clear. Be proud of who You are, your creator sure is.
PS: to my wonderful sisters and mother, you’re more beautiful than any people I’ve known. Not just because of your hearts, though those are glowing. Your outward beauty is just a perfect reflection of the inner radiance. Get out of the mirror and get on with showing yourself off.
