Too much self-criticism
You’re worthy of being your best you.
I’ve always been hard on myself. I often question the smallest decisions, regret speaking up, and feel guilty for what I eat and my lack of motivation to workout. No matter my age I have always felt insecure about my body; yet when I look back at pictures of myself, I am always smaller than I thought I was.
This picture shows me probably at my smallest. I’m guessing those were size 10 jeans and that I weighed about 160 lbs. At this time in my life I was finishing my Master’s in Rochester, NY and was preparing to move to Alexandria, VA for a teaching job. Despite the happiness portrayed in the image, knowing myself I was questioning everything: the amount I had to drink, the conversations I had, and how I would look in the picture. Looking back, however, I see a skinny, vibrant, and happy girl.
It’s so unfortunate that body image can have such a negative affect on a woman’s life. After all, I was a three-sport athlete in high school and a college softball player for four years. I was by no stretch of the imagination overweight or inactive. In fact, I was anything but. However, I somehow came to believe that I ate (and continue to eat) too much, too often, and not healthy enough. I’ve been reflecting about this issue a lot lately and have gained a lot of insight from the book “I Thought it Was Just Me” by Brene Brown. In her book Brown states:
“If we were raised in families in which unattainable body types were highly valued, we might continue to impose that unreasonable expectation on ourselves, even if we have found a partner who accepts us for who we are and who wants desparately for us to feel comfortable with our bodies…, so we struggle to find ways to please them all and then feel shame when we ultimately fail to meet competing demands.”
Looking back on my childhood there are few things that stick out more than the focus on being thin. No one ever outwardly told me “you’re fat” or “you eat too much”, but there was always the underlying desire to hear my mom or aunts tell me “you look great”; because that was the focus of conversations -not that someone in our family looked happy or was successful, but rather that they somehow managed to maintain a healthy weight and a slim figure. Growing up, my mom was very critical of how my dad ate. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t consider hard rolls with butter, full tins of cashews, and McDonald’s healthy, but her constant criticsm of how he ate has had a huge impact on how I view my own eating and my body.
I am now 29 years old and will be 30 in October. I am married to a wonderful man and am a step-mom to a wonderful 4.5 year old. As I continue to reflect on these issues, I realize more and more that I do not want to impose my insecurities on my own children. I am now at the heaviest I have ever been, 182 lbs, and the largest (clothing-wise) I have ever been, almost to a consistent size 12. I realize I don’t look much bigger than my 2008 self, but my self-confidence is certainly at it’s lowest.
The journey I am about to begin is that of being the healthiest I can be while at the same time practicing self-worth. I need to live by Brown’s words: When we give ourselves permission to be imperfect, when we find self-worth despite our imperfections, when we build connection networks that affirm and value us as imperfect beings, we are much more capable of change.
This quote rings true to the September 2013 — October 2013 Jen. The Jen that was preparing for her wedding and gave herself permission to be healthy, to be fit, and to look her best. The Jen that ate vegan for 6 weeks and felt great.
As I prepared for the wedding my excuse for eating well and working out was to fit in my wedding dress. Although this was true (I didn’t fit into my dress a month before the wedding), looking back I realize now that I gave myself an excuse to look and feel great because all my life I was expected to be the chubby one of the family. Certainly people would understand my desire to look good at my wedding.
I am no longer allowing my past experiences to dictate who I am today. Despite the roles that were imposed on me throughout my childhood, I will work towards a healthier, happier and fitter me. In the end, as Brown states, We cannot change and grow when we are in shame and we can’t use shame to change ourselves or others. I will no longer shame myself into improving myself, but rather remind myself that I am worthy of being my best me.