Loving the Shape of Me

I have spent a major portion of my life on the heavier side of the weighing scale, and I hate to admit it, but I have loathed myself for it almost all the time.

My weight story started even before I was born. My mother had a healthy appetite and was an enthusiastic cook, my father absolutely enjoyed all sorts of good food, so food was always a big part of my heritage. I grew up to be an emotional eater, so when the going got tough, my kitchen always got raided, and with time, so did the various food apps on my phone.

My weight was hit the worst when I was put on some medication in my last year of college. This fanned my raging appetite even further, and with anxiety and uncertainty of the future added to the mix, food became my sole comfort. I gained 20 kilos that year, but my physical weight was nothing compared to my emotional difficulties, I detested myself more than ever.

It wasn’t long after that I reached the veritable sundar aur susheel, shaadi ke layak (beautiful and capable, able to be married) age, minus the sundar part, of course! Getting married was always my heart’s desire, but my weight got me more rejections than I cared for. It was a vicious cycle where my emotions went from, “I want to get married,” to “nobody cares!” to “nobody should care! I’m ugly!” And so on and on it went on for about seven years (read: eternity) till I reached a point of true devastation. I hated myself more than ever, and to add insult to injury, there was no groom to be found! The pain was unbearable, and I had nowhere to turn.

So, I turned my eyes heavenwards and gave up.

I gave up the relentless hate relationship with myself because I was inevitably becoming the root of my unhappiness.

I gave up trying to measure up to the body standards that people around me seemed to expect from me.

I gave up looking for love in others.

I gave up seeking constant approval to be alive.

It had finally dawned on me that I didn’t need permission to breathe. I didn’t need to be a specific size or shape to be loved. I didn’t need to be anything but me.

I could, however, want to have healthier body weight and lifestyle, of course. And understanding this difference between needing and wanting to make all the difference.

I was no longer motivated (or demotivated) by what people outside me wanted or thought was correct for me. Wanting to be better, and healthier was up to me now, and I was pumped with this realization.

I joined a gym eventually and started eating more homemade food. I even began cooking, which was hitherto a much-despised endeavor. I also took therapy sessions with a counselor, and consciously replaced my negative self-talk, with my favorite Bible verses. Verses that gave me confidence.

It won’t be honest to say that I transformed overnight, like in the movies.

I am still on that journey of healing. I still have my weak moments when I give in to self-loathing, but they are fleeting and infrequent. I still go on binge-eating sprees, but they are far less intense than they used to be. I still fall short of people’s expectations, but I have stopped punishing myself for it.

Because that’s what it was, right? A self-imposed punishment for not being a perfect specimen.

I didn’t lose much weight (because habits don’t die easy!) but I gained a whole lot of confidence in being resilient and persevering. I learned a lot about the things that trigger my overeating and eventually started recognizing and avoiding them. It was slowly becoming real to me that I am, indeed, “fearfully and wonderfully made”, loved beyond all measure, beyond all reason, and I started showing myself the kind of sympathy and love that I was known to show to others around me.

Perhaps you are reading this article as a victim of body-shaming, be it by others or self-imposed. Maybe your confidence has taken a good beating and you loathe yourself, but please know that you are worthy of love just as you are, right now.

And don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.