Weight, Weight, Don't Tell Me

I have written extensively about my weight over the last few years. I have generally evolved from being frustrated and embarrassed to being ambivalent to starting to be angry that weight is such an emphasized part of our culture.

Ten years ago, I was much thinner than I am now. But now, I am much more likely to feel satisfied after a meal. I am much more active and physically fit - despite how my body might look compared to in the past. I am on medications now to treat some conditions that help keep symptoms at bay that raged untreated in the past - which is worth the weight-gain side effect, every time. If you ignore the number on the scale, I am healthier in every way today than 10 years ago.

And here is the most important part. Does anyone love me less because I weigh more now than 10 years ago? Am I a less valuable or less worthy person now? Should I feel like I have to apologize for taking up more space now than at a different point in my life? No, no, a thousand times now.

I have written so much about weight over the years and have so many conflicting thoughts and emotions. But here is one tonight - maybe it really does not matter very much in the end. The shape and size of our bodies is one of a billion data points, and is infinitely less important than our souls and our spirits that lie inside. And I wish I could take back the thousands of hours I have spent worrying that I was somehow less worthy because my body had changed.

All I can do moving on is to embrace all of the wonderful things my body can do: The gains in strength I have made over the years, the delight I have experienced in eating food that brings me joy, the passion I feel for walking and moving outside. If my body were a person, I would say, she has birthed two children. She has climbed up a mountain. She has completed three marathons. She may be heavier than before, but she is awesome and strong and loved. And that is pretty amazing.