While at the retreat we did an exercise to write a poem to ourselves. We each had a photograph of ourselves at a young age when our addiction to food started to build in our lives. Mine was a picture of me at 13 years old at the beach. I was wearing tight shorts and a shirt that showed the no longer cute chubby rolls. I was smiling in the picture, but I remember that time at the beach dreaming of a tiny body that guys would admire. Dreaming that I could wear all the cute clothes. But I was also finding that food was comforting. It could cover up the pain of growing up in a house of eggshells. A house of unhappy parents - their marriage was never good from what I can remember. A house where my dad was gone all the time and I felt it was my fault that he chose golf over me. I felt it was my fault that the house wasn't happier. I thought it was my fault my brother didn't really like me much and seemed unhappy. I thought I was supposed to fix it and I never could. I think this is where it all started. Below is the poem that I wrote.
The lumps of the 3 in 13 like my new found lumps and curves
Developed overnight it seems, a new me I must serve
What do I do with this chunky me?
How am I to know who I am supposed to be?
Mom says I'm too big to buy cute clothes
Dad pushes me away because how to deal? Who knows?
I look at my body outside and try to see
Who am I, look at this fat, who can love me?
I need someone who won't laugh, criticize or judge
So I turn to food as my one true love
I am much older now and food is still there
It has become my cross to bear
Food took over and its time to let it go
Little girl 13, you are wonderful you, that you must know
No more suffering, hatred or shame
Take on the challenge, you deserve to win the life game.
21 hours ago