when the school semester was coming to an end, i promised myself that my summer would be dedicated to self improvement. there seemed like an infinite number of things i wanted to better: fitness, diet, being more confident, etc. for awhile, it was a practical approach. i stopped eating late at night, and i made sure i stayed hydrated to avoid confusing thirst with hunger. i didn't see any results, so i decided i needed to make a stricter regimen. in short, it became an obsession. before eating anything, i checked the nutritional facts. i counted calories, obsessed over grams of fat, and strictly followed serving sizes. i planned meals, in between snacks, and even "emergency" healthier binge alternatives. i measured things carefully to make sure that my calorie count was accurate. even though i was eating healthier, i still felt guilty about my daily calorie intake. as soon as i ate, i became anxious to exercise. if the sun was out, i would go jogging. if it was late at night, i'd do lunges in my living room. if i was with friends, i'd leave events early so i could go to the park and do stairs. if i knew i wouldn't be able to exercise that day, i would avoid eating altogether. i weighed myself at any opportunity. i tracked my progress daily and was delighted to see the number on my scale drop exponentially.
my friends and family started to notice that i was losing weight. at first, it was "oh you look good! have you lost weight?" as an insecure 21 year old, their recognition was my reward. i was ecstatic that these physical changes were evident to others. they asked, "how do you eat so much and stay so thin?" i pretended i didn't freak out after eating beloved donuts. i joked that my stomach was a black hole where food kinda just disintegrated into the unknown. they didn't know that i took everything i ate with a double dosage of exercise and guilt. although i felt good about others noticing, there was a problem. a big problem. i didn't see the change they saw. i complained to myself constantly. every time i looked in the mirror, i was unhappy with what i saw. i hated my flat, but untoned stomach. i hated my thick thighs. i hated my round cheeks. i decided that i should up the exercise and slowly drop things from my diet. no more carbs in the morning. two meals instead of three. chia seeds with everything to keep me full. shortly after, friends and family became worried. "dude are you eating? you're getting really skinny." to be completely honest, i was even happier when they said these things. i took their concern as a compliment. i lost just around 10 pounds in a month. but still, there was a problem. a huge problem. i still didn't see the change they saw. even though my pants were getting loose and i dropped a size in pretty much everything, i still found things to complain about. i was still unhappy.
as an avid writer, i keep track of thoughts throughout the day in my diary. right before bed, i'll reread my jotted notes and conclude the day. at first, rereading my thoughts was funny. i laughed about how extreme and sarcastic i could be. but after awhile, i realized that my thoughts were less and less funny. i knew i was serious about my extremities. i would literally rather starve than back track on progress. i started sounding sick.
"i'm so hungry, but i already ate my worth of calories today. having gummy bears was a waste of calories. i'm an idiot." "i'm so hungry i can't sleep. it's already 4 AM. i will just lay in bed and fantasize about eating breakfast. i'm pretty sure this is the first time i've ever fantasized about oatmeal and flaxseeds." "it's too hot to exercise outside. i'll have an apple then go to the mall to walk it off. i'll have salad when it cools down. meh, i'm hungry now. must resist cinnabon. be strong."
since realizing that i've subconsciously developed some sort of problem with eating, or lack thereof, i've tried to reboot and start over with this self-improvement project. my intentions were originally to become healthier, but it soon became a pursuit driven by vanity. even now looking in the mirror, i am unsatisfied. there are still many things i want to change, but i am constantly reminding myself that change cannot happen overnight. i cannot expect results right away. it is unfair for me to force my body into submission by attempting to mentally control my appetite. everything needs to be done with moderation and in good time. i need to be patient. maybe i should move that higher up my "improvements" checklist. ha.
in summation, i admit, the issue has never been about my weight. it doesn't matter if i'm 100 pounds or 130 pounds. i'd be unhappy regardless. the problem has always stemmed from deep rooted insecurities and a lack of self love. the most important thing for me to do now is learn to accept and love all of me. all 66 inches and however many pounds of me.
