A Battle of Wills

I have this constant battle raging inside of me. Almost a year ago, I weighed almost 10 pounds less than I do today. That’s not a lot and I’m not necessarily worried so much about my weight, as much as I am about the way my clothes fit. Right now I’m not really liking the way my clothes are fitting. Anyway, the battle is between the part of me that wants to lose 10 pounds, and the part of me that wants to eat ice cream every day. The problem is, I’m quite active. I exercise 5 days a week. I eat fairly healthy. I do have my share of junk food, but for the most part, I do well. It becomes frustrating that instead of the number on the scale slowly getting lower, it keeps creeping up, much like my age. I know there are things I could do better and I keep telling myself that I will, but on Saturday I made cookies. And they were really good cookies. I didn’t make a lot, so there aren’t any left, which is probably good. But a couple of cookies a couple of times a week shouldn’t be a big deal. That’s where the battle lies. Sometimes I wonder if I really care enough to make the changes I need to make to put myself back to my ideal size. Then the other part of me tells me that it doesn’t matter. My size doesn’t matter, as long as I’m healthy. And I am. I see people posting on social media all the time about whatever challenges or supplements or things they are using to achieve their ideal body. Some days I want to jump in, make the change. Other days I think it’s too much of a commitment. And every time I have joined a challenge, I’ve gotten frustrated half way through that nothing is changing. All that happens is I deny myself of foods that I love. Besides all of my feelings of insecurity and need to feel good in my skin, I have a daughter. I don’t want to follow extreme diets or fads just to look good. I want to teach her how to choose a healthy lifestyle. Last week I saw her tighten the belt of her jacket. She told me that sometimes she makes it tight so she looks skinnier. She’s nine. And tiny. That comment scared me. I’ve always been conscientious of what I say around her about the way I feel about my body. I want her to be confident and happy with what God has given her. I want to feel that way about myself. 

I came across this article last week. I think it’s fantastic. But I still want to fit into my jeans comfortably.