“Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.”
1 Corinthians 6:19-20
A bad habit that had plagued me most of my life is comparing myself to others. I have compared myself to people in a wide variety of ways, one of the most common comparisons being the way I look physically. For those of you who may not know me personally or may have not known me for a long time, something I’ve struggled with my whole life is my body weight. I’ve always been a bigger girl. I’ve always struggled with my self-confidence. Since I was around 11 to about the age of 19, there were times I would stand in front of a mirror and just cry my eyes out because I hated what I saw. I hated my body. I hated my face. I hated the fact that I didn’t look as cute in some clothes as others did. I was so jealous of other girls who, I thought at the time, had it so easy. I was so jealous that boys seemed to flock to them while the boys would make fun of me. I was a very awkward looking adolescent. The ugly duckling stage hit me hard. I had a short, chin length hair cut that wasn’t brushed half the time. When it was brushed, it was really frizzy and wavy. As it grew out, I killed it by straightening it every morning because I hated my naturally curly hair. (BTW, I grew out of that. I love my curls now.) I had braces. I put on makeup and wore clothes that didn’t suit my body type, but I thought I looked cute anyway. Despite my efforts to look better, it didn’t solve the problem. As I progressed through my teenage years and my depression worsened, I began to dress like one of those internet scene kids from the middle to late 2000’s. My acne got pretty bad as well, and I did not take care of it the way I should have. Today I bear the scars of acne around the corners of my mouth, and I have one acne scar under my eye as well. But eventually I grew out of my scene phase, and I went back to my old casual style. I began to accept that this was how it was always going to be, and I was angry with God that He “cursed” me with my physical appearance.
As I grew older I definitely grew out of my ugly duckling stage. Though I was still large, I no longer saw myself as outright ugly. The self-consciousness never left me, though. On the online community I was apart of for almost a decade of my life, I had complete control over the way my avatar looked. I put a lot of effort into making my avatar look the best; She had to have the best body, the best face, the best hair, and the best clothes. I made her look perfect because I knew I never would be. I had a lot of guys on this online community pursuing me, and it felt so good at the time because I had never had that in real life. I loved the attention this fake me got. I soaked up every compliment, and I really thought I was happy living out my life in this virtual world. Eventually, that attention spilled over into my real life, and I began to date a guy that I met on there. He quickly moved in with me, and you can probably guess how well that went. A year and a half of dating him left a big hole in me. I came out of that relationship just as confused and lost as ever with my eyes already set on another man. But I wasn’t prepared for what was coming within a couple of weeks.
April of 2016 is when Joe and I broke up, and it was toward the end of April that I went to the doctor with concerns about my weight. The toxicity of the relationship I was in had done a lot of damage, and I ate my feelings. I ate constantly, and I did not practice any amount of self-control. I ate so much that I gained nearly 40 pounds in one month, and at my doctor’s appointment I weighed 252 pounds. I had blood work done a week prior to that, so at that appointment we went over my results. I was 15 when I was diagnosed with Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, so I already knew that could have been one thing affecting my weight. But I wasn’t prepared for her to tell me that I was pre-diabetic and had a vitamin B-12 deficiency.
Three men in my family have been diagnosed with diabetes, all being blood-related to me. This leaves me at high risk of becoming diabetic myself. Both of my grandfathers had it, and they have both passed on now. My father has it also, so I grew up knowing what diabetes is and what toll it can take on the body. I foolishly didn’t pay attention to what I ate, and I suffered the consequences. The news of me bring pre-diabetic floored me, and all I could think about was the memories I’d had of my Papaw injecting himself with insulin before every meal, and my dad having to jab a needle into his finger all the time to check his blood sugar. My dad has had a lot of other complications, which I won’t get into out of respect for him, but I had all these images flashing through my head of me going through the same troubles my father has gone through with his diabetes. When I went out to my car, I just…freaked out. My habits changed drastically after that.
“Physical training is good, but training for godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come.”
1 Timothy 4:8
For almost 3 years now, I’ve been in constant battle with my body and mind. I have lost almost 75 pounds with help from medicine and changing my diet, but it’s still an everyday struggle not to overindulge and to know my limits. I have been stuck in a plateau for over a year now, but mostly due to a lack of effort on my part. While I am not yet where I would like to be, I can say that I am actually okay with my body. No longer do I see myself as hideous. No longer am I overly ashamed. A lot of that has to do with God’s work in me over this past year. I know my value. I know that God gave me this face for a reason, and I know I am fearfully and wonderfully made. All I need to do is take care of it.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that as I finally started taking care of my body, godly seeds were being planted in my life by my dear friend, Jesse. Our bodies are temples, meant to be a living sacrifice for God and His works. I don’t believe I would have had the discipline to go on this mission trip had I not disciplined my body first. Self-control is one of the fruits of the Spirit, and while I still struggle, I know that God is not giving up on me. Just like the process of sanctification, correcting the body takes time, determination, and strength given by the Spirit.
“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”
Psalms 139:14
