I wish I could find that photo of myself.
I’m about 12/13 and am sitting on a sand dune on Ballinaclash beach in Co. Wexford. I’ve got my legs crossed and my hands on my knee with a ‘strike a pose’ look on my face. I’m wearing a red bathing suit and there are at least three places to ‘pinch an inch’; but I don’t seem to care. In fact, I don’t remember being aware of the ‘rolls’ as I posed for the photo.
I doubt there’s a photo of me after that time where I’m not self-conscious about how I look. (Discount any where I’m not sober.)
If you’re familiar with this blog then you’ll know that every so often, the subject of eating and weight rears its rotten head. My blogging journey started with a series of posts about weight loss (or not) it’s been coming around like Christmas (only not as often…) You’ll find some examples here and here.
For the last few months I’ve been reading blogs and Facebook pages about the subject; most posts giving actual pain because they talk about a land that I’ve not been to for a long time. A land where I’ve got my food:activity ratio as it should be. A land where I’m looking after myself properly. And more importantly, a land where I’m happy with myself; and my swimsuit, with its rolls.
It might sound like I’m jumping on the band wagon, but I’ve known for a long time that sugar is my nemesis. I’ve said before that I’ve an issue with food, but I’ve really believed that I am an addict. I do now though. I love, want, need and crave sugar – in any and all of its forms. Have you read those articles that tell you sugar lights up the same parts of the brain that a cocaine hit does? I’m not a bit surprised. I can think of nothing better than a bucket load of chocolate and a key. To lock the door behind me so I can eat it in secret.
So… about a month ago I quit. None in coffee, none on cereal – in fact no cereal except porridge. No processed food, just fresh meat and vegetables, salads and fruit; you know… all the good stuff. I’m allowing myself a minimal amount of bread and potatoes. (Come on, I’m Irish. I’d have to hand in my passport if I stopped eating the spuds altogether).
I worry about writing a post like this. Saying it out loud is usually the beginning of the end of a diet for me. I’m praying that this is a life change, a turning of my heart towards full dependence on God, and not a sugar buzz, to give me joy.
I’ll be honest, I’m grieving a bit. I’m sad that (please God) I’ll never eat a whole bag of Haribo in one sitting again. That I won’t be enjoying sugary chocolate with sugary coffee on a regular basis. And I’m scared – cos sugar makes me feel better, and what if my whole food bars and a cup of green tea don’t do the same?
I pray these words from Psalm 119: 103 will be true for me and I will get the sweet rush I need from Him.
“How sweet are your words to my taste,
sweeter than honey to my mouth!”
Thanks, A x