We are home from our whirlwind trip to the beach. It was a quick one, but I was able to help out, spend time with the boy, his gf, and the grandpuppies. We did get in 1 walk on the beach - it was stormy on & off the whole time we were there. No fair! I guess I have to go back next month.
I was reading "Runs for Cookies" this morning. She had a follow up guest post from a gal that lost over 100 pounds. She wrote something to SO resonated with me: "...something just "snapped" within me and I desired to get healthy. I'd realized that the "snapped" feeling was that I was finally feeling safe and loved. Not like anything was ever not safe or that I wasn't loved--but that I was finally able to breathe and had the space to work on me."
YES!
In my last marriage, no, I most certainly did not feel safe and loved. I mean, yes, my mom & son love me and I've been safe enough in the sense that as long as my mom is alive, I will always have a safe place to be if my world crashes down and I need it. But to feel safe in my own home and new relationship? That's taken, what, ... a year and a half or so? And it's not that I didn't trust T, it was a matter of adjusting to a new normal, and the residual trauma fading. And then somehow I've realized that while I certainly have moments of anxiety or stress - and my default is to turn to food in those times, those times aren't constantly, every day. I feel safe enough to let go of the food, and the weight.
There are times (like Sunday) when I feel anxious and want to turn to food. There are times (like Tuesday evening) when I don't make the best choice. But I pick myself up and keep going.
It's good to be home.
Take care.
2 comments:
thank you for the link. I have been reading it!
I hope it's helpful to you!
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