Not Just a Number

The other day, I posted a link to an article and included in my comment a sentiment about identity and it not being found in our sin struggles or orientation. Now I want to talk about something else our identity isn’t found in — Numbers. Whether it’s your age, your weight, the number of guys you’ve slept with, the number of drinks you’ve had, how much money you make, or [insert any other category here]. These things don’t define us — good or bad, they are just a tiny part of our story and you’re still in the middle of your story. 

The number that has plagued me most of my life is my weight. It may seem trivial to you, or maybe like me it’s been the thing you focus most on, but either way, please stick with me, ‘cause I promise I have a point.

I have dieted on and off since middle school when my doctor told my mom I was overweight, and she started giving me half sandwiches and snack size bags of chips in my lunchbox instead of the full size all my friends were eating. I noticed the change, and it annoyed me, but it was life. I don’t think I started to care or take ownership of my weight until high school; in fact, as a child I took pride in the fact that I weighed more than my big brother, not realizing that wasn’t a fact I should brag about. As I started high school and transitioned from a major tomboy to a young girl who wondered why boys didn’t seem to like me the way they liked my friends, I came to the conclusion that it must be because I’m fat/ugly. (It should be noted that I wasn’t bullied, not really; there may have been a minor comment once or twice over the years, but I came to this conclusion on my own, not because someone blatantly told me so.) 

That’s when I took over my “health” journey. At that point, it wasn’t about health, it was about being skinny. I lost weight and got to a place where I was skinnier a few times over the years, but I never looked quite as thin as the other girls, and I always gained it back…plus some. After my cousin’s wedding in 2016, I went on a pretty intense diet. It was designed innocently enough, eat healthy foods, take all these supplements and the weight will fall off, and it did, at first. But then I hit a plateau, so I ate a little less. I’d drop some more weight and plateau again, so a little less food it was, until I was barely eating the equivalent of one meal a day. But I was at my skinniest….and I still wasn’t skinny enough. That’s when I threw in the towel. I knew I wasn’t being healthy, and it wasn’t really working anyway, so I decided to focus on loving my body the way “God made it.” Or so I told myself. 

I was finding my identity in a dumb number that the world told me mattered. I thought I had to fit into this box that experts said I should, and when I didn’t fit, I thought I was inherently flawed. I believed I was worth less because there was too much of me. I tried to find a balanced middle ground, but even when I tried to love my body at it’s heavier weight, no matter how much I said I was ok with it, deep down I was disgusted with myself for not having the self control I thought was the key to being thin. 

The next year or so I ate what I wanted when I wanted. I was working out a lot (at this point I was in the process of trying to get on with the fire department), so physically  I was gaining weight, but I didn’t just get super fat all of a sudden or anything. I was muscular and a relatively average size, but I still wasn’t healthy. I was in shape for a while; during academy I was REALLY in shape, but then forced daily workouts came to an end, and I continued to eat what I wanted whenever I wanted. And that brings us to this past year. I’ve done a lot of growing in the mental health department over the past few years, but this past one focused in more on my body and my health. I grew to understand that skinny doesn’t equal health. And neither does heavy. I get now that there is beauty in all body types, so just because I’m not petite and a size small like my best friend doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful in my own right. At the same time, it’s not healthy to eat anything and everything just because you can. And while all body types are beautiful, we should still strive to be healthy and take care of the body God has given us. We just need to realize that my body looks different when it’s healthy than yours does and yours looks different than his, and his looks different than hers. 

SO this new year when I decided not to make a resolution (which I never stick to anyway), but to make a true change, I was in a much healthier mindset to do it. I decided I wanted to start a new health plan - not a diet. I refuse to call it that. This isn’t about losing weight; it’s about taking care of my body and getting to a healthier physical place. Don’t get me wrong, my weight is still incredibly distracting. The plan I’ve found and love does have you weigh yourself every day, but it’s so you can create a healthier relationship with that number. By weighing every day, I’ve learned that even when I eat perfectly all week, my weight fluctuates up and down based on things as small as water consumption, sleep, hormones, and how much salt I ate. And I do tend to get frustrated when the number stays the same for “too many” days in a row. But then I remember how much energy I’ve had because I’m fueling my body well, and how much clearer my skin has been because I’m not feeding my body junk, and I’m okay with not being tiny. Because being tiny or curvy, or whatever adjective you want to use to describe me, that doesn’t define me. 

Today I’m about half way through the health program I’m on, at the end I will go from the “get healthy” phase to the “stay healthy” phase, and I already feel so much more confident in my own skin. My clothes fit better and I feel better. So yay for health. But even if I never get to my “goal weight”, or I gain it all back again, or or or…I am not a number on a scale. This struggle is a part of my story. It’s a part of why I will never say no to a chocolate chip cookie, but I will say no to 10. It’s part of why I will compliment any stranger if I notice something, whether it’s cute shoes or a beautiful voice, we all like to be noticed every once in a while. It’s why when I see a chubby person at the gym I smile encouragingly. And it’s why I find my identity in Christ and not a number.