I never thought that losing weight after having Charlotte was going to be easy, but I also wasn’t counting on it being so difficult and laden with emotions. I had a mini-breakdown Saturday night because I was going through spring and summer clothes in my closet, and none of my favorite pieces fit. All the cute tops and skirts I enjoyed wearing last year were far too snug to wear in public. Looking at all of those clothes–clothes that I worked so hard to fit into–made me indescribably sad, and I started feeling like I will never be able to wear them again. I was just getting to a place where I was comfortable with my body and beginning to like how it looked when I got pregnant. And even though I wouldn’t change getting pregnant and having Charlotte for anything, I am in mourning. I am mourning the loss of my self-confidence. I am mourning the loss of a body I was only beginning to appreciate. I look in the mirror and see flab and fat everywhere. I try to run, and after 10 minutes my energy is depleted. I dread getting ready for work in the morning because I don’t know what I am going to wear and don’t feel pretty in anything I choose.
Before these past few weeks, I never in my life realized how incredibly vain I am .
For that’s what it all boils down to–vanity. Yes, my health is important. Yes, I need to be at a healthy weight. But do I need to let how I think I look define who I am? Do I need to melt into tears over my physical appearance, especially when my life is overflowing with blessing? Do I need to spend most waking hours worrying about how I look or thinking about food and exercise? No. Now more than ever I am aware that my struggle is not merely a physical one; it is deeply spiritual. If I am going to win this battle, I have to put on the armor of God along with my tennis shoes.
I can’t do it alone. I simply can’t. And by the grace of God, I won’t have to.