A Hard Road to Travel

This last month has been an interesting one...for the last few weeks it's been a mystery what should be written next. There are some personal experiences that have been on my mind a lot, and at some point need to be shared, but it's definitely from a more difficult time in my life. And, honestly, I believe that there are thousands and thousands of women/girls that have experienced a certain degree of this part of my story. Mine is not quite the extreme, but it was enough that if I hadn't been able to overcome it, it would have easily devastated my life.

Being around young women a lot, having become close or listened to conversations about how they view themselves has disappointed me. A little ways back I wrote a post on self worth. The quote that I personally came up with (and if someone else has heard it elsewhere then I suppose it's not originally mine) went something like this, "When self-worth is based on how the world sees us, we will never be enough. When self-worth is based on how God sees us, we will ALWAYS be enough."

Sadly, there are a very high percentage of teen girls, mid-twenties, and so on and so forth up the ages, that have never felt appreciative and accepting of who they are. The core of every person is so uniquely made yet I fear that we spend most of our time trying to change what makes us 'us'.

Let me begin with my story. This is a vulnerable place to be in, and so bear with me as I share very personal experiences, yet they are not mine to keep but to show any young girl/woman reading this how devastating and damaging it WILL be to continue down the path of self-hate.

For a long time I didn't think anything horrible about myself, in fact, it didn't begin until about late Junior High...maybe it's when hormones started or maybe it was that point that there became a distinction between the 'cool' or 'popular' kids versus the - well - 'not-so-cool' kids. I'm not sure where I fit in and though the friends I had were always wonderful and kind people, there was a sense of self-doubt that came along with the evil word I befriended for too long - Comparison.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the adversary seeks to destroy many women through the avenue of self-hate. Think about this...how we see ourselves drives our decisions in life. How we feel about ourselves is eventually how we will treat others. That right there can have such a profound impact on not only our personal life, but the lives of all those that we come in contact with - especially with our spouses and our children!

In High School I really didn't think I had a problem at all. In fact, the skipping of meals seemed to be the only way to achieve the look I wanted. Rail thin. Because from what the 'ever-so-smart-and-all-knowing' media and world taught and still teaches, was/is that a beautiful woman could not be curvy and soft. No, she must look like a stick.
In order for me to achieve this look and become attractive to all those handsome high school boys it would have to come at the sacrifice of food because let's face it - my genetic makeup is NOT anywhere near rail thin.

Most of the time the starvation was so overwhelming that mid afternoon I would finally break down and eat. Sometimes the day would go 'as a success' and I wouldn't eat until dinner, but by that point in time I felt ravenous and would binge. The disappointment that came from eating only fueled my hopes to succeed the next day and my obsession grew. Soon the upset of these daily failures were all that I could focus my attention towards. At this point my school work suffered because I didn't care about grades or studying. I became angry at my friends and family. Heavy depression set in. I resented my parents and treated them quite horribly.

Many times my dad would sit at the table and say quite sternly, "you are not allowed to leave til your plate is cleared."
I would take a few bites and fib that I was full when in fact the food tasted so amazing I wanted to eat everything on the table. He made me eat til it was all gone and I was so angry at him for it. He would explain how the body works when it came to starvation. Those that lived long, long ago were able to survive harsh winters when hunting was scarce by adapting. The body says, "hey, I'm going hold on to all this fuel because soon I'll be in the middle of winter and must prepare for the period of starvation."
These insightful words from my dad were a source of anger and resentment. My emotions were volatile during this period. Imagine a teenage girl with the expected ups and downs, then add to that a a constant inner voice of hate...it was absolutely brutal and quite frankly the darkest period in my life. It lasted for four years.
Many times I stood in front of the mirror and told myself how horrible of a person I was. How ugly and fat and that nobody liked me. Just writing that makes me shudder. I was living with my own worst enemy!
 I still remember the first time I tried bulimia, which came as another whirlwind of disappointment being that I have the inability to throw-up. Even during my pregnancies with how incredibly sick I became my body nearly refuses to throw-up. I am so grateful for this because had I been successful at my try with bulimia, I am quite certain that the eating disorder period of my life would have spiraled down a long and dangerous hole.
It's pretty crazy and upsetting to recall all those years that were wasted and fueled by false, negative beliefs.

For a long time I believed I was the only one experiencing this, but later in my senior year I found out that several girls in the school were struggling just as I was. And for some reason this shocked me. Why you may ask? Because in my eyes these girls were beautiful and what I wished I could be; to find out that they were in the same pit of self-hate was unbelievable.

It took me a while to help myself, and I received help from a therapist. I struggled with the thoughts of self-hate for many years, in to my twenties actually. What helped me to get out was a conscious effort to develop a healthy relationship with food along with learning what I could about the body and how it works. Knowing what I now know continues to be a strength whenever those thoughts come back (because they still haunt me and I believe they always will).
The difference at this point in my life is I am very strong and I have made a choice that those thoughts are no longer allowed to be part of my life. They do not bring joy, acceptance or love. They do not help me to become a better person. The only thing those thoughts add to my life are complete and utter darkness, therefore, I have trained myself to squash them immediately. They can not be entertained, not even in the slightest.

For those of you suffering from this debilitating-at-times trial, know that it is possible to make it through and recover. It is a hard road that must be traveled with determination and perseverance. Most importantly, it must be done with a renewed sense of self-love and acceptance. Get help if you must and do it now. With love,
Rochelle

Read Reshaping it All by Candace Cameron Bure   
for a new perspective on how to love your body and have a spiritual love for your body.