For someone whose blog premise are often about her thoughts, experiences and feelings, it is surprisingly difficult for me to write this without coming off as if I’m victimizing myself yet again.
The first time I wrote about my weight, I remember pouring out everything and I honestly still think that it was personally one of the heavier entries I’ve done in my life. To bare one’s insecurities out in the open is just no easy task, but here I am again – sharing a piece of myself to you.
When I stopped writing for a while, it started with multiple reasons but then I eventually realized that it was just for one simple reason – I lost the spark of writing. I know I don’t post as rigorously as someone who writes for a living, but what was once an delectable activity to me suddenly felt more like a chore. I wanted to churn out as much content as I could but I was riddled with insecurity that I didn’t really know much; I wasn’t a credible writer. There’s millions of people out there who are writing or have even written the same things I do, so what makes me think I’m cut out for this?
It wasn’t helping either that during those few months I’ve settled back into my comfort zone, my health ultimately suffered together with it. I wish you can imagine how incredibly difficult for me to admit this out in the open but I’ve been eating like shit for the past few months – maybe even a few years now. My scenario became takeout or delivery almost every other day of greasy, salty food and snacking on the junkiest things to exist. It’s almost depressing to look at my bank transactions in the past few months because I knew exactly where my money went to.
I wish I could use the excuse that I don’t have a kitchen of my own that’s why I resulted to those eating habits. I also wish that I could use the excuse that I just didn’t have the time and energy to prepare my own food – but those are just poor of an explanation. Those do pose a problem in some way, but was it enough of an excuse to result to that?
Having said that, I eventually also had to face the ugly reality that it was inevitable for me to develop hypertension. I’d like to think that it was a combination of stress from work and the fact that I have an office job which had me sitting about the entire half of the day, but my bad eating habits are just of an equal contributor to it. I wouldn’t really consider myself an emotional or stress eater, I just plainly didn’t have the self-control. I over-indulge to the point that I couldn’t care less about the end results – which is shameful, I know.
I don’t know if many can realize how embarrassing that was to me, being young and already facing hypertension. It was embarrassing as well that all my life, I’ve sworn off ending up being hypertensive like my family but it came back to me like poetic justice. Heck, my boyfriend’s even half my age older and is a lot healthier than I am. Imagine that.
I was just so… mad at myself at the time. How can I have ignored the signs? How can I have thought that people were just being rude and mean to me just because they wanted to? The thing about being insecure about your weight is that you see everybody’s comment negatively, even those who have your best interest at heart. Granted, often times, the way they phrase certain sentences play against our sensitive selves but regardless, maybe we need to start taking what they say with a grain of harsh truth.
It was my fault; I didn’t take care of myself. And as much as it’s painful for me to say it, it is very true. The sad thing is when you finally admit it to yourself, you start to also look into the cracks and flaws you have…but that’s for another story.
To be fair, I don’t want you to read this and think that the takeaway is that being
fat automatically equates to being ugly, or being fat already equally means
that you’re unhealthy.
What I actually want you to realize is that accepting and loving ourselves is not ever going to be linear and is not going to be all fluffy; it comes with the fact that we also have to be brutally honest with ourselves and with the realities of being on the heavier side of the scale. It’s not healthy to hide behind the image of body positivity without actually addressing the dangers of unhealthy eating and obesity. We must know there are two ends of the spectrum when it comes to unhealthy weight and both parties should equally look into how they’re treating their bodies but often than not, those who are heavier pose more risk and susceptibility to comorbidity.
That’s also one of the reasons why I felt the need to withdraw myself from writing for a few months. I just didn’t feel honest – both with you and with myself, most especially. To top that, I wasn’t feeling the most confident which is very much unlike how I started off this whole thing. It just didn’t make sense to me to write when I do not trust even my own words. When I write about the kinds of things, I want you to savor the words, in the way I meant to say it. When I don’t feel my 100%, you will not feel it too, and that was just unfair.
Now, where does this lead to? What’s next?
As much as I will try my best to go upwards from here, I’m not going to make it as if it will be easy. Especially right now, considering the circumstances surrounding the crisis which has also made an impact in my life, it would be a work to adjust and make positive changes but I’m here for it. I’m here for myself, and for my future self. I will not miraculously going to have the discipline itself because I’d have to work to earn it, and I’m ready to.