I feel like such a jerk! I’m fat. **gasp!!** What?! Say it ain’t so! Yes, it’s true. I’m fat and I can admit it.
My then-husband was sure to tell me often exactly how fat and unattractive I am. Obviously, his words left scars. Massive scars which I worry will never heal. If the man who promised to love me through better or worse found me so disgusting, it must be true, right? I’m fat and ugly and that’s all anyone can ever think of me.
As I’ve moved away from him and his effects, I’ve become the person I want to be. I pride myself in being a good person – a loving, understanding, patient person. I like who I am.
But I’m still fat. To me, I think I’ll always be trapped in layers of fat – even when I finally lose my weight, I will still be a fat chick. I think the damage he has done is too severe to overcome.
I think of my guy and wonder how he can possible be attracted to me. I mean, he’s this hot, sexy, healthy guy. I assume my personality is my saving grace. He loves me for who I am, not for what I look like. **swoon** I love him for that. I love that he can see past the layers of blubber to the good heart and intelligent mind to love me for the important reasons. It’s my job to lose my weight as soon as possible so he doesn’t have to tolerate my tonnage for too long.
And then, for a brief moment, the wool is pulled out of my ears, a memory lingering there. He said that I’m beautiful and sexy. He thinks my butt is sexy. Why do I believe my abusive ex-husband and allow him to taint my vision of myself, but I don’t believe the man who truly loves me and allow him to see me through his eyes? Why am I deaf to his sweet words of love, acceptance, and attraction?
I need to make a change. I need to ignore the ugly memories of my ex-husband’s taunts and cling to the words which are being whispered to me by the one man in the world who’s words matter.
I am beautiful and attractive to my dream man. By releasing that old pain, I might even become more so.
It’s so easy to say!
**I have a habit of writing my blogs ahead of time and then setting them to post days later. I wrote this one days ago. That afternoon as I was driving, my guy told me to hit a certain preset button on my car radio. It was playing that old song, “You Are So Beautiful.” He had no idea I had written this post hours earlier, but I did. Because I had written this, I was able to think about what was really going on. He does think I’m beautiful. I allowed myself to really hear him, loving him even more than I already did. It’s nice to know that he thinks I’m beautiful. 🙂 **