OMG - I've turned veggie!

No matter how great i feel in my veggie body, my first reaction - still - when something, anything, goes wrong is, gotta stop eating.

The shirt looks a little tight..... gotta stop eating.
My damn hair is frizzy....gotta stop eating.
I don't have anything to wear...gotta stop eating.
My ex-girlfriend dropped me a line....gotta stop eating.Oh, and please don't look at me naked.
I'm so tired, no nooky tonight...gotta stop eating.
oh yes, i want you so bad right now... gotta stop eating.

Yes, these whispers don't stop even when something good is said. It doesn't matter because you see, it would be better if i was thinner. Always, for some length of time, whether it is seconds or minutes, hours, or days and months, my problems are credited to me being fat.
He would have loved you more/ longer/ better, if you were skinny.
You would be The ONE, if you weren't fat.
You'd be a better daughter, if you exercised more.

I grew up always thinking if I was thinner, my life would be better. The sun would shine a little brighter, the air would be a little crisper, my step a little lighter, and my smile would stop old ladies and hot guys in their tracks. If only I was thinner. I wouldn't fear the dark anymore, I could charm sharks if I chose, and everyone that is supposed to love me - would. If only I was thinner.
This is foolish. In my adult mind, i know this makes zero sense but it is there nonetheless. It cracks me up when I hear people encourage others to find their "inner child" and listen to her. I prefer to tell her to shut up.Go away. Nothing good is coming from her mouth. She whispers to me always... gotta stop eating. As if I could. As if i should. Hello! I don't want to die. I don't want to starve myself. Jeez, i love food and I love to eat. But there's the conundrum, the constant war within myself. Gotta stop eating.

Sometimes she is silent and I am left alone and happy. I enjoy myself and a little soy ice cream. Every now and then, I feel pretty. But just when I think she's gone for good, something happens... a look, an answer that doesn't come fast enough, a compliment that never appears,or a pretty girl from the past that does. Then here she comes... Gotta stop eating. And she slaps me in the face with comparisons that I cannot win. Memories I cannot compete with. She's such a bitch. She hits below the belt, or in my case, anywhere beneath my boobs, and gets me where it hurts the most and I scream inside until it echoes in all of me... GOTTA. STOP. EATING! But of course I do. And then she laughs and calls me weak. I could call her a lot of names. Insecurity. Fear. Isolation. Mother. Shannon. I hate her and I love her. Because she is me.

I tell my kids always, be careful how you treat others and don't judge to fast about how they treat you because you don't know what their life is like. You don't know what made them this way.

So I wonder, what made me this way?

And then I wonder, How can I be different?

How can you run from demons that are inside you? I've tried. They just run next to me. No matter how loud i play my ipod I can still hear them. Run, run, run as fast as you can... you can't hide from me, I'm your fat man.

How can you stop hearing a voice that is in your head and sounds just like you? I can stand in the mirror and whisper, you are beautiful. My reflection stares back and calls me a liar.

It's been a rough week. I don't feel this every day but I do feel it a lot of days. I can pretend when I write that everything is fine, and I am fine, and life is fine, and yes, I'm just fine. But why? Life is not always fine, and I am not always fine. Pretending only makes it worse. And as girls, as women, doesn't it get old? all the pretending? all the fines?? Some days we just feel like crap.

I will admit that these days have happened less since I became a veggie. I don't feel guilty about what I eat anymore. So there's a small, but wonderful, miracle. I'll take those when I can get them. I mean seriously, I'd have to be truly demented if I berated myself for eating too much damn soy and an extra helping of salad. If I'm feeling really desperate, I'll tell myself to lay off the bread. But i do my best not to feel desperate.

I find that I start to pray a lot when these thoughts take over. Did you know that yelling out loud is considered praying if you are talking to Jesus? It is. I know, I have done it. I have yelled and cried and whispered, why? Why do i look like this? Why can't I feel better? Why does it keep coming back?
Thankfully, He answers. Normally after I stop yelling. He speaks to me.
You don't see you the way I see you. I see what I created, what I formed, way back when you were in your mother's womb. I knew what your life would be and I made you. I gave you strength, and laughter, and tears to get you through it all. I knew it wouldn't be easy and there would be pain and I knew I would be beside you the entire way. When you run, I am also running next to you. Look at me. Listen to me. And I will encourage you to keep going. I will tell you that you are strong. When you look in the mirror, look with my eyes. See the hairs on your head? I know how many are there. See your crooked teeth? I gave them to you, so you would be different. see your moles? My kisses for you. Look at your belly - do you see it? It was a home for three children I gave to you. Be proud. See those stretch marks? Battle scars for a war that was won. Be proud. Don't hide in shame. You are you. I don't see skinny or fat. I see life. And love. and pain. and mercy and grace. I see someone I died for. And someone I live for.
Don't let the devil get a hold of you. You are mine. Your thoughts-mine. Your dreams - mine. Your life- Mine. Stay with me and I will give you rest. rest from all the burdens of your past and in your mind. Rest and peace and love.

Who can argue with that?