It’s so amazing to have food in my refrigerator that I love & that nourishes me. It’s amazing that it doesn’t glitter, and I don’t feel a need to overeat nor binge on it. It feels safe, secure, and peaceful.
How did I get to this place in time? Lots and lots of inquiry. Asking myself what I really need. Going below the surface. With my hands being held.
It took experimenting, and consistently bringing in the foods I love. Stocking my house with more food than I could ever humanly eat, and then restocking it when I ran out. I had to really make sure my inner world knew, that this wasn’t a “Last Supper” before the diet started on Monday.
It took trust.
It took yelling and feeling frustrating. It took not giving up ever.
It was all worth it.
All the tears, the clothes that didn’t fit, the checks made payable to helping professionals, the last minute conversations where I talked myself out of joining Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig.
It’s been a real struggle and I never was really sure I could get to this peaceful moment in time.
I don’t think I will be in this peaceful place forever. You see, I live in this place called The United States. You know that place where I am bombarded by false statements about beauty & health? The place that values the outer world, instead of that which lies within?
I still have big feelings. I feel them now. I scream, I shout, I yell, I cry, I have terrible stomach aches. I feel a lot of my feelings in my physical body now. It really sucks. But I’m not willing to sacrifice these exiled parts for food. It would be easier, yes. But, I just don’t want to go down that road at present.
I know in some moment, I will turn to food. And I will do so for very good reasons. The most of important is that of taking care of myself.
But for now. I will listen to my parts that want to be heard, instead of pounding them down deep below the surface. I will acknowledge them. Thank them. And yes, even befriend them. (One day.)