Emotional Eating

This weekend was a big eye opener for me. It was a relaxing weekend….too relaxing. I did walk a lot on Saturday but other than that my butt was parked on the couch for most of the weekend. My eating habits weren’t great either. 

I was so surprised by how strong my desire was to eat something bad when I was upset this weekend. I would tell myself no, but the desire would still be there, loud as ever. It got me thinking of the past.

For as long as I can remember, I have been ‘fat.’ At least that’s what the stick-figure girls of my childhood would call me. I can remember visiting my aunt and uncles house as a child (I’m talking like maybe 6, 7 years old) and this girl I didn’t even know saw  me and asked my why I was so fat. It still hurts to think about. How could I control whether or not I was ‘fat’ at that age? My parents didn’t have the money to afford good, healthy food. That was just the way it was. 

Enter into the end of elementary school / beginning of middle school: I was involved in community theater. I was actually good, receiving lots of comments for my easy of script reading and ability to memorize my parts early. A year after joining a group that was not so affectionately known as the ‘preps’ joined. These were the girls who had everything: super skinny, beautiful, expensive clothes. To sum it up, they had everything I didn’t. I remember one night specifically. I remember being in the hallway, waiting for my scene rehearsal when I heard them laughing. As they walked away I approached of the girls that was supposed to me friend and asked what was so funny. She told me that they were laughing at me. That my butt jiggled like jello. I was devastated. 

These two events set in motion an entire childhood plagued by feeling fat and worthless. There would other times that these ‘popular’ people would remind me that I wasn’t good enough. I was not wanted anywhere. I think that is where this all started. To this day I struggle with self image and emotional eating. I feel as though I will never fit in. It is hard to open up to people I know, because I feel unimportant.

This weekend was a bust, but it forced me to remember these difficult times I had as a child, and how they’ve carried through to adult life. I feel like the tough part is still ahead of me, but I have no idea how to overcome it.

 

I guess that’s part of the journey to becoming a healthy person.