As a female, I’m pretty confident in saying more often than not we are more self-conscious about our bodies in one way, shape or form. Personally, I have battled with a body complex for as long as I can remember for a slew of reasons. But, that’s a story for a different day. I have since grown into a different kind of love and appreciation for my body’s physical strengths and weaknesses.
That aside, I do still struggle with clean eating, and it can be triggering for me and my psych..
I’m gonna start off by saying I like food. I like greasy food, I like salty food, I love garlicy foods. Oh, and I’m a stoner. So munchies creep in and I easily make bad decisions.
In high school I played sports year round. Summer league AAU basketball until school basketball season started, then track and field until summer league started back up. And on top of that we were pretty poor. There was no munching between meals because there simply wasn’t any munchies.
Between being heavily active and not having the resources to over eat I was always fit. I still had major complexes about parts of my body, but I knew I wasn’t obese or anywhere close to it.
When I graduated though, and went off to college the sports stopped, I had my own money, I began smoking weed and the freshman 10, 15, 20 lbs just kept piling on.
It was quick before my toned 130 lb body turned into a not-so-toned stretch markey 150+ and that’s when I learned what a real complex was.
I hated myself. I really did. I hated the way I looked, I hated the way that I acted toward food and the lack of motivation I had to make any of it different. I adopted the most unhealthy relationship with food because of the “i’m already fucked” mentality. I’m already fatter than I want to be, I already ate like shit today, I already chose to do nothing over workout, so fuck it.
I lived in an endless line of excuses. And developed a loathing for myself I had never felt before. I felt out of control. Like no matter what I did, I was never, ever going to get back to a version of myself that I was happy with.
This was the whole year of 2013, from about May of that year when I left my parents house to begin my endless journey of couch hopping until April of the following year when I had officially put on over 25 lbs.
I knew something had to change, but I didn’t know where to start. Or how to do it even remotely healthy. I spent so much time trying to starve myself, trying to go days of only drinking water or juices, and lots of other unhealthy weightloss schemes. I was completely alone in my world of shame. Nobody knew about my illness, it was well hidden because frankly, I was ashamed and didn’t have enough love in me for me to speak up. It’s one of the many demons firmly planted in the depression I never talk about.
I was insecure, I had no respect for my vessel and even though I had been an elite athlete my whole life, I still had no clue where to start leading a healthy life. Because in truth I never really had.
Lent rolled around in 2014. And I was at an all time low. I had been kicked out of the home I was living in and pushed into a less than ideal living situation with a roommate who didn’t help my body complex issues with her perfect stripper figure. (Yes, she was a stripper)
I had heard about and seen spiritual fasting many times growing up in a Christian household. So when Lent rolled around and my boyfriends Catholic family was all about Lent fasting I was all about kicking it up a notch. It was a way for me to make a 180 degree health change, the fastest way without hearing a word about the method.
I was spiritually fasting.. What can anyone say? The perfect coverup for the most depressed weight loss scheme I’ve ever made.
40 days of land food. That’s fruits, vegetables and nothing more. I fought the hunger pangs and the munchy cravings, I was able to stay strong and push through even when my roommate quit days in and by the end of those 40 days it was like I shed my skin, like a snake, and was a whole new person.
That’s what it took for me to learn (by doing) how to take the reigns of my health into my own hands. It starts in the kitchen, duhhh.
When you detox the bullshit inside the meat and dairy industry, Cut out sugary sodas and snacks, poop out all the white floury starches that have been sitting in your colon forever it’s like you can see for the first time. Like “holy shit, this is how I’m supposed to feel”
I had energy, I wasn’t bloated at all, all my constipation issues went away and most importantly I had gained back my self respect and self image.
Now don’t let me fool you. The battle wasn’t won there, in fact I still put in the good fight every day. It’s easy to eat healthy when you have utter control over the food in the kitchen, but when you live a nomadic lifestyle like I do, it can be hard to fill yourself with all the nutrience you need when you’re the only one.
Beggers can’t be choosers right? There’s a little fat girl that lives inside of me and whispers in my ear to grab the rootbeer instead of making tea, make top ramen instead of cut fruit, be lazyyyy and tastyyyy.
And a lot of days that little fat girl wins. But a lot of days she doesn’t too. I have learned that just like meditation and mindfulness, eating healthy is a practice. If I restrict too many cravings, I end up binge eating. If I fuck up a few days in a row, it sometimes turns into a few weeks and a few lbs.
And when that happens the inner battle starts all over again. “I’m already fatter than I want to be, I already ate like shit today, I already chose to do nothing over workout, so fuck it.”. But that’s where I’ve grown.
It’s not a fuck it.
If I eat a piece of cake for breakfast, that’s cool! I just can’t eat cake all day and need to make sure I am compensating with enough health foods to balance out. If I go a few days of mindless eating, I don’t beat myself up over it. I get a good workout in and start fresh after the sweat. I drink soda sometimes, I just make sure that my portions always balance out to more water/tea than anything else.
It’s about slowly developing the right perspective. It is a battle I fight daily, and will most likely continue to fight daily for many days to come.. But It’s not a battle that I let define me or my life.
It’s never too late to be day one.