My Lightbulb Moment
Six years ago, I had one of those “lightbulb moments” Oprah always used to talk about. It was painful, but necessary.
I was rummaging through my closet trying to find something to wear for my 16th wedding anniversary. I had broken my arm earlier that summer (warning: do not EVER get on your daughter’s skateboard because she makes it look easy!) and after three months in a cast, had put on some weight. The immobility of my casted arm had also made buttoning and zipping clothes almost impossible, so I’d spent most of the summer in stretchy, elastic leggings.
That night, I wanted something more special for our anniversary dinner, so I pulled one of my favorite dresses, a cute little shift that was always one of my go-tos for nicer occasions, out of the closet. I unzipped it, stepped in and pulled it up, only to hear the screeching sound of tearing. Shit!
I know you know how this goes. After trying on garment after garment, only to find they didn’t fit or were so completely uncomfortable I didn’t want to leave the house in them, most of my options were strewn across the bed and I was a sweaty, teary-eyed mess.
I stared at myself in our full-length mirror, clad only my underwear and bra, and felt the bottomless well of self-denigration bubble up. All the words: fat, stomach, gross, big, thighs, awful, huge, hate and more ran through my mind, gaining momentum and thrusting me into a pit of self-despair.
Of course, that’s the moment my husband, Doug, chose to stick his head in the door to ask me how long it would be before I was ready. When he saw the tangle of clothing and my tear stained cheeks, he said, “What’s going on in here? Are you okay?”
I shook my head. He said, “C’mon Betsy, it’s our anniversary! We’re supposed to be celebrating. Don’t do this.”
Something about his statement and his earnest pleading eyes touched me straight in my heart. He was right. I was proud of our sixteen years of marriage, filled with hills and valleys the two of us had navigated together (another warning: marriage is hard!) so why was I choosing to focus solely on how I looked? Did the size of my clothes really impact the length of my marriage? Why was I letting the happy part of the day, the purpose of it, be overshadowed by something so shallow?
All at once, I realized I had a choice: to allow the negative ticker tape in my head to ruin our evening OR (radical thought!) to consciously embrace the joy, comfort, and gratitude our sixteen-plus year relationship had granted me.
Because of the anniversary, I refused to give in to the dark thoughts. I dug into the very back of my closet and pulled out a jersey maxi-dress. I loved the geometric color pattern of green, orange, yellow, and purple; the forgiving stretch material; and longer length. Even if it was over five years old, it was comfortable and suited me. As I finished getting ready, I added the emerald earrings Doug had gifted me for our anniversary. They matched the dress and my green eyes.
That scene in my closet was the starting point of my “body positive” journey. The idea that each day presented me with a choice of my attitude wasn’t new to me, but applying it in the context of weight certainly was. It reminded me of a meditation teacher who instructed me to ask three questions about any troubling belief:
1) Is it true?
2) If it’s true, is it helpful or useful?
3) If it’s not helpful or useful, what would be?
Although it may be true that my physical self wasn’t perfect, it was NOT helpful to dwell on my imperfections!
Since that day, willingfully, truthfully, answering those inquiries sometimes offers me great results, other times…not so much. It’s not easy. The path to feeling “okay” about my body is more of a zig-zag than a straight line and that’s okay, too, because I’m still moving forward. As time has gone on, I’ve added other mind-changing methods to my stockpile of body-attitude-adjustment magic and I’m excited to share them with you!
What do you think? Could you use these questions to interrupt an uncomfortable body day? Try them out and share how it goes with me.
With All of my Heart,
Betsy