This will be my last letter to you. I guess I’ve been waiting for this moment for a few years now. Somehow I thought it would be a tad more traumatic than it was. In reality, it hurt far more than it did. My 6-year-old daughter finally said the words to me that I never wanted to hear and feared more than words that would come from my husband about wanting to divorce me. Fortunately, the warrior I am, surprised as hell but not shocked because what else the hell am I going to do…have remained calm. As I heard my daughter say…”Mom, YOU are fat.” Not once, but twice…and then I said, “what did you say?” in a caring voice which was soft, only because I knew what I was hearing was “it”…and she said it a third time. For some reason, I get calm in the midst of the storm. I don’t know why but I do. I asked her “if that was wrong or bad” and she said, “you are fat” and I said “but that has nothing to do with it. Is that wrong or bad?” and she said “you are fat.” Remind yourself this is the 6th time she has said it.
Now, I am confused. Am I saying the wrong this to my child? She’s only saying what she’s seeing. She’s speaking the truth and I’m feeling like shit. But am I saying the wrong thing to my child? Are we on the same page? I’m still confused. I don’t know. She confused me. I confused me. I’m just confused. But still….I am the mother and I am calm and I explain how I am on medication and my medication has caused some of my weight. This was after she told me that I am fat because I eat too much. I told her no, I do not eat too much. Grrrrr. God damn it, I do not think anyone can understand how much I will never go down the anorexia road again.
I am not ready to explain it but just this morning, I sat with a bunch of my wonderful girlfriends and I talked about how I could NEVER treat my body the same way that I treated it like I did. How I was so disrespectful to myself and hateful and wrong and it was so sad. Just a week ago, I was being so insecure with my body and I finally said to my husband, “would you rather me be “this way” or “sick?”…he said in a very serious tone, “like this”. He’s not joking around either. He saw the sick side of me. I knew the sick side of me. Only a few saw the sick side of me. That’s enough.
For what ever reason I needed others to see that side of me, they saw. I don’t even know why they had to see it. I don’t know the purpose it served. Something deep and wanting to be hugged I am sure. I finally love you my body. I love myself. I am finally one. One in itself. I actually feel whole. I still have further to go and will still write more. But this chapter is done. Dear Body….thank you for giving you me back. The end!
Courtesy of Dear Body.
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