Thursday, May 8, 2014

This Time

Every time I do it, I start with the notion that this time will be different.  


I was about eight sitting in the back yard in shorts.  I grabbed the inside of my thigh. Fat I thought.

Where did my convoluted self perception originate? And most importantly, why has it been perpetuated into middle age?

I loved climbing trees and found the perfect set of branches to nail a few boards across.  Perched high above the world, I would stand and gaze in all directions; imagining that I could see all the way to the White Mountains.  With books piled high, I would sit and read.

Not all the neighborhood boys bullied me, but a pair of brothers did.  A large shed stood at the corner of their property. They liked to climb up on the flat roof.  They wouldn’t let me up because, “The roof will cave in.  Too fat,” they said laughing and snickering. I walked away and retreated to my own high place and dreamed.


Over the years, I have lost a few hundred pounds.  Losing weight has been easy.  I never starve myself, but begin determined to make lasting changes.  It just never sticks.

Now it will be different. I am working on accepting my imperfections and loving myself bits at a time.


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