I am honest. I am real. I try to be true to myself. Sometimes I pitch a fit and I am not kind to myself. I have never been able to figure out why I can’t be my own best friend but I  can’t. I have been trying for so long to accept myself, to like the person I am, and to be at peace with myself that I forget that once upon a time I was all those things. Children are wonderful at knowing who they are. Sadly most of that awesome self acceptance and awareness gets changed by adults who think they know better.

Once upon a time in small town America there lived a little girl with golden hair, a cherub face and a soul filled with the lightness of being. I am cursed with a memory that holds onto useless info as readily as a wrapper holds a candy. With knowledge comes power, sometimes that power is not a good thing. I was a golden child until I started school.I was happy to live in ignorant bliss, public education changed all that. My childhood in a nutshell, before going to school, I was precocious. I asked a lot of questions. I was encouraged to be bright and full of life. With the coming of age I was  required to be educated. Off to school I went, only to find out there were queues to stand in for everything, no one cares if you are bright, no one wants you to be full of life; they want you to be compliant, obedient.

And that’s where all the fun and frustration began…I lost my sense of awe. I stopped wanting to know why.

I have decided that I have had enough of being a jerk to myself. I stopped thinking about my whys. Every time I allow myself to forget my whys I fall flat on my face. One would think that at my age I would be wiseR but I am not. I have always sorted out my feelings by trying to hide them. Why? I have a right to experience how I am feeling yet I try to suppress or deny them. Why? My response to raw emotion is not pretty. I have never learned to find peace in the chaos. I was not allowed to “feel” my way through sadness or stress or anger. I found other coping skills. FOOD:  my lover, my enemy, my friend, my partner in crimes against crumbs.

I have learned many things about myself and this crazy WW program that I try (yes, sometimes I actually try) to live with. Nutella is not my friend neither is any other processed carby junk food which hates me but makes me crave for its attention. I often struggle with my whys. I started obsessing with my being overweight so many years ago now that I am not sure my original reason why is still valid. I have come to a place of understanding that I do not need to be a size 8 to be happy or to be loved or to be friended or valued. I know those things are not my WHYs.

Why do I worry about my whys? What are my whys? Do have any whys? The answer?

I WANT… to be a better example of myself. I WANT…truth over lies. I just WANT to be happy with the person I am and the honest effort I put into being me everyday. No strings, no promises, no bullshit. I WANT…to be able to breathe, to climb a flight of stairs (without going into cardiac arrest), to button jeans [without having to stuff my muffin top into the pockets], to let go of self loathing because hating myself is easier for me than love. I WANT to remember how wonderful it felt being that little girl who knew her whys. I love the way I feel when I eat food I don’t have to be angry about or worry over its negative effect on my health. When I eat/drink the right things I am not thirsty from diabetes. I don’t crave more junk. My moods are better. I like being with me. I am more optimistic in how I approach every single day.

I am over feeling angry about the program changes that have once again tipped my cart over. There are bigger concerns in my world. Today I found the path again that led me back to my WHY.

Never Give UP On The Person You Are Meant To Be