Standing in the Corner

My husband and I were having a conversation the other day about life and I started talking about making excuses. As I was talking I realized what I was saying was somewhat a revelation to me and I’m almost certain some of you at least can relate. It is also a small glimpse at me personally which is good for those that are new to the competition so I thought I’d share. It’s kinda hard to pick a starting point since the words just rolled out of my mouth in the moment all tied up in our conversation. Also, my husband knows my background so I didn’t have to explain all of this to him. I’ll need to give you a little of it so please be patient as I attempt to make this all make sense.

We all make excuses in life. Daily we make small excuses for putting off small things and sometimes we make big excuses for putting off or ignoring the big things. Because we’re human and life is what it is, I truly believe that we each have a life story that is worthy of being a novel. Some more adventurous than others, some scary, some mild and some filled with overflowing happiness… But to each of us our story is unique. Our story is the exception, our story sets us apart in some way and it ultimately helps molds us into who we are.
Here is a bit of mine:
I grew up all of my life in Utah. Looking back I’d say that my family was pretty typical completely full of ups and downs. I’m going to focus on some of the downs here because they relate directly to my point. When I was pre-school aged I was sexually abused. The person that did it told me often that I was a “pretty little girl” and in processing that as a child I was somehow smart enough to realize that I couldn’t help that I was pretty, my beauty was natural and out of my control but, I COULD change the fact I was little. I got it in my head that being “big” would protect me somehow and I started to put on fat as a layer of protection against bad things.
In addition to this trauma I lived in a broken home. My parents married young and when I was about 4 years old ended up divorcing. They did remarry when I was around 9 years old but the years between and even somewhat after were stressful for everyone involved. My sister Angie is absolutely beautiful but always more fit than I. She was a rodeo queen, well dressed with a keen fashion sense and seemingly always full of confidence. As her younger sister, as younger sisters often do, I felt I spent many of my adolescent years living in the shadow of her life’s experience. She was so devoted to what she did and my mom and dad poured into her as much as she poured into it. I always felt as if I couldn’t live up to the level of expectation that she established in our family. I thought that I had to fight for my parent’s attention and approval, but I always seemed to fall short.
In trying to cope with all of that as a child/teenager I established really bad eating habits. I turned to food for comfort or to help or heal every emotion. I would eat when I was hungry but I’d also eat when I was not. I’d eat when was stressed, happy, sad, lonely, scared, frustrated, exhilarated, angry and on and on. There was never a reason not to eat and always a reason to. I spent my life crash dieting, binging and purging, extreme exercising and not exercising at all. It’s a roller coaster of experiences and has ultimately gotten me to where I am today.

Those are just a few of the skeletons in my closet. I'm sure you all have them; those things in your past that are tucked away in the dark recesses of your mind, those experiences you want to pretend don’t exist. But, when life comes at you and you're vulnerable, the doors open, the skeletons take on life and come out to haunt you.

When I get stressed out at work, at home, with my family or money I fling open the closet doors and cling to the past and use those past experiences, combined with the present ones, as excuses for making poor choices all over again.

I eat my donuts and fast food and look backwards. I tell myself that NO ONE can understand what it is like to be me. Look at what I’ve been through… look at all I’ve had to overcome. If people knew what it was like to live my life they’d understand why I am the way I am. This donut, this burger, it makes me feel comfort when I’m hurting. NO ONE can understand what that’s like. I eat one thing after another each time building on the guilt and the pain of the present and past; each bite adding guilt and requiring more justification. I tell myself I corner the market on personal pain and trauma. I rationalize and justify because NO ONE else could ever understand.
I find myself standing in the corner and tell myself over and over again that I’m justified in doing so. You see, as long as I can convince myself that NO ONE understands, then I can keep myself in the corner. I can feel sorry for myself and justify making poor choices over and over again. When people approach me about my weight I can tell my sad childhood experience and explain how I got this way. As long as I can convince myself that I corner the market on my pain and NO ONE understands, then I don’t have to take responsibility for the poor choices I’m making today.
But, here is the reality. What happened to me when I was young was out of my control.
What happens to me now is not.

I CHOOSE to eat that donut, that burger, those fries. There ARE people in the world who can not only understand, but can also relate. There ARE people out there that not only have experienced the same things I did, but had it SO MUCH WORSE. If I admit to myself that those people are out there and that I am not standing alone, then there is no justification; no rationalization. Once I am willing to admit that I am the only one putting myself in that corner and that the pity party I’m throwing myself is exactly that, then the dynamic of my life changes dramatically. I become responsible. I accept the fact that the only way I am going to break the cycle and really change is to admit to myself exactly what I am doing.

I DO NOT corner the market on pain!
I DO control this part of my life!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Loving me does not equal complacent acceptance of bad choices!
Loving me means giving up the excuses of my past and pressing in to the choices of my present!