It’s Tuesday, March 2, 2010. I am 33 years old, 5 foot 4 inches tall and I weigh 210 lbs. I know this because I had to go to the doctor last Monday, and the nurse announced after writing “210, obese” on my chart “wow, you really hide your weight well.” My first thought was to punch her. My second thought was “really? Because I feel like my weight is an announcement to the world that I am a mess.”
This past Sunday, we had family drama, and my 7-year-old son walked in the room and laid cookies on the table in front of me. Even at his age, he knows I eat when I’m upset.
I have been “overweight” since I was a child. I was put on my first diet at 11 years old. When I started driving, I would go through fast food restaurants, binge the whole way home and throw up when I got there. My Dad was a boxer, owned a gym, and hired a trainer to try to help me when I was 15 years old.
Last time I was at my parents’ house, I found a pair of pants I wore to a dance in 11th grade. I remember crying that night because the boys made fun of how fat I was. I looked at the tag in those pants. They were a size 8. I am now a size 16.
A few weeks ago, a person who loves me a lot told me I was codependent. They recommended that I read a book called “Codependent No More”. I freaked out. I am a Christian. I love Jesus. I lead worship and sing songs about God for a living. I’ve been through DELIVERANCE. I’m not supposed to worry or be anxious or need medication. RIGHT?
I bought the book and read these words: “A codependent person is one who has let another person’s behavior affect him or her, and who is OBSESSED with controlling that person’s behavior.” Um, hello mirror. Codependent people neglect themselves because they are so busy controlling everyone around them, usually because of trauma and/or hurt.
I have had damaged relationships with my parents, my sister, my husband, and friends, and I have always blamed THEM. But now, I’ve decided the skinny girl inside of me deserves a voice. She deserves to be whole and well and healed. I will be in counseling, going to Celebrate Recovery, talking more about what’s wrong with me and letting everyone else deal with their own problems. Not because I don’t love them, but because it’s time to love ME. It’s not selfish. I can’t give anything from an empty well…or from a well that’s full of ice cream.
Jesus, in His loving kindness, knew when I was ready for this season. My time is now. I am praying anyone who reads this will prayerfully ask the Lord if it’s time for the person inside of you who died because of fear, rejection, pain, betrayal, abandonment, etc. to come to life again.