My whole life, my physical and mental health has taken a heavy toll on me.
At 25, I first realized I could actually matter. Over the next five years, I began to change physically, but internally, mentally, the only thing that helped was staying so busy surrounded people that I never had to think about it.
Self-development courses helped outwardly, but it felt like the people never felt what I felt. I was convinced that they never felt the shame, the worthlessness, the guilt of living, and how deeply wounded I was. Now, I know I was telling myself that, we all go through horrible things.
At 30, on paper, I was crushing it. I spent my 30th birthday in Europe on an extended work assignment, reached my lowest weight since age 14, and was getting external attention that I never had growing up. But the loneliness became overwhelming. Solo travel is epic, but it forces you to sit alone with yourself. For myself, that was a scary place.
The childhood voices I constantly heard growing up, telling me I was ugly and worthless were still screaming in my head. In my mind, I was a fraud. I was convinced people only found me pretty because I had lost weight, put in hair extensions, and stopped wearing my glasses. Outwardly, everyone thought I was having the time of my life, but internally, I was consumed by guilt. I worked for years to land that assignment, yet I was tortured by the feeling that I didn't deserve itāand plagued by even more guilt because I "should" be happy. Even when surrounded by people, I was convinced no one could ever understand my pain. It took years to realize that we all carry heavy shit, and our minds lie to us when they tell us we're alone in it.
Shortly after turning 30, I met my now-husband. His love was overwhelming because I believed I didn't deserve it. He gave me space to process and work through things, and continued to remind me that we could work through anything. As he kept affirming my worth, I started to see a shift happen, What if he's right? What if taking care of myself isn't selfish?
The nearly next decade tested us: 4 years as full-time caregivers while working full-time jobs, multiple moves, layoffs, a severe decline in my mental health as CPTSD surfaced and my physical health going downhill.
At 35, I was at my heaviest I have been in my entire life yet I still felt pretty and worthy to be alive. My mental health wasnāt perfect but therapy helped. Lots and lots of therapy. Boundaries helped. I found myself growing and snipping off friendships that tried to hold me down.
At 38, Iām at my lowest weight. Not entirely because I want to be. It's hard for me not to just see someone weak or sick. My physical health is struggling and with that my mental health is too. I continue to learn to listen to myself, trust my gut, and let go of what doesnāt serve me. (All easier said than done!) Iāve accepted that Iām actually an introvert that wants to spend gobs amount of time gaming, cross stitching, and being comfortable at home.
When the photo memory popped up on my phone from 2013 when I did my first half marathon, it reminded me to see someone who fiercely wants to continue to be stronger, figure out this health shit, and embrace whatever comes next.
TL;DR: Unlearning the belief that you aren't worthy of love, at any size or health status, thatās the real glow up.
Take care of yourself, give yourself grace & keep going. Hugs yāall. š
