Last night, I wrote out my thoughts on The Biggest Loser finale.
They disappeared here on this blog as I tried to upload. I lost it and went to bed crying.
Why? I’ve been the victim of most sides of this crazy thing called weight. I have been looked down on because I was 287 pounds. I have been criticized for sharing my fitness and loss successes on social media. I have been told I shouldn’t get much smaller because I won’t look like myself. I have been told I am an inspiration.
The only thing I haven’t been told? That I did it too fast or it wasn’t going to stick anyways.
I’ve made this my lifestyle and my family’s lifestyle. It’s pretty cool that Evan chooses applesauce over pudding and Arianna wants to run the kids marathon. And Greg has been uber supportive this whole time…like when I drastically lost weight while pregnant with Arianna, hovered back to my norm, broke scales pregnant with Evan, then took two+ years to get to today’s weight.
Like we watched Rachel, my network has watched this journey. I have my opinions on her loss (hurt, concern, why is society like this?), you have your opinion on my journey.
When I went to bed in tears, it was because I lost something…but here after a day to think about it, I gained something. I gained an understanding that we all have our own fights, our own journeys, and our own ways to cope with image.
Bottom line? We all need to love ourselves…whether we are 40 pounds, 105, 158, 177, or 287. Beyond that? The rest doesn’t really matter.
Arianna has no idea how much this means to me….the fact that we both fit in a shirt I used to fill. I just hope this means she will keep loving herself and seeing the beauty in the body she’s been given.