Cakie Belle posted a fantastically thoughtful and honest letter to her size 12 body today over on her blog. It really struck me intensely as I'm having one of those days where I ate a little too much over the weekend (OK, a lot too much) and am expecting only a .2 lb loss tomorrow at weigh in. I'm feeling like my motivation and resolve is a little lessened and that I'm headed for another "failure".
I noticed this morning that my brown corduroy pants didn't fit me (there was no reason they should), how my arms are flabbier in the tricep area than they used to be, and that my stomach is a little larger than I wish it were. Just last week, actually just 2 days ago I was noticing that my stomach seemed a little flatter, that I had more energy than I've had in weeks, that I'm so proud of how well I've been doing and how good I feel.
Why does one bad day, and one slow week of weight loss, send me backwards into a forfetful haze where I revert back to beating myself up instead of dusting myself off and moving on? Why do I become mean and hateful and disparaging?
Cakie Bell has it right that instead of looking down and seeing the negative, I need to remind myself that this body I have is amazing. It's MINE and it's gotten me here, in spite of the abuse I've slung at it and the junk I've fed it for days on end at times. This is a day I should be grateful. Grateful that even though my head's not in it, my body's not going to quit me. Not today!