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| Pax River MD - Nov. 2014 |
Here we are, on the eve of my 48th birthday. Poised, hopefully, on the edge of something great, holding my breath and tentatively lifting my foot to take that fateful step. Hoping beyond hope that what's ahead will be worth all that I'm leaving behind.
The last few months have been full of deep thoughts and introspection. Lots of soul searching conversations with myself have turned into cautious, word-filled forays into my deepest thoughts and fears with those I trust most. Sometimes I haven't liked what I've heard. Sometimes I haven't liked the way I've felt. To say that growth is painful is an understatement.
For the majority of my adult life, I've toyed with the idea of "getting healthy." For me, that was the narrow-minded pursuit of turning my body into a svelte, drool-inducing key that would magically unlock the door to a magic kingdom that would instantly make my life something perfect, amazing and fulfilling. That never happened. I have a deep abiding love of "bad" food and lazing on the couch. So I embraced the "body acceptance at any size" movement and went about my merry way, quite literally rolling through life, your stereotypical jolly BBW.
At some point during this last year, the darkness inside my head came spilling out; the pain and anger and confusion refused to be bottled up any longer. To say that I embraced it isn't a strong enough description. The bitterness of failed relationships and missed opportunities choked me. The pain of my failings and as a wife, widow and mother led to hot tears of shame and regret. Envy, doubt and distrust have been my constant companions. The few bright spots in life fought mightily against being eclipsed by the sadness and didn't always win.
I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a religious person. I have faith, yes, but when the politics of religion jump into the mix, everything gets muddled and ugly. I believe in God. I believe in Jesus. I believe in the Holy Spirit. I pray when I'm scared. I give God thanks when things go right, from the mundane to the major. I don't blame Him when things go wrong. I just don't. When things do go wrong, it's my faith that gets me through. Believe me, some things have gone very wrong in my life. Yet I've never felt alone, even when I've been terrified. I've always known that I'll make it through, somehow, someway. And so it has been my unwavering faith that is bringing me through this long personal winter and into the first hopeful, watery light of spring. Those talks I mentioned earlier? God used those to plant seeds of hope. While they've long been dormant, they've started to germinate, slowly unfurling deep, strong roots. At long last, it's time to break through the rocky soil and reach towards the sun.
While I'm working on getting the outside healthy, getting the inside healthy has to take priority. This won't be easy. It won't be pretty. It will hurt like hell. That's okay. Because I'm not alone in this fight. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
And so...ready, set...go.
