I’ve often found writing to be incredibly therapeutic. And sometimes, every once in a while… I’ll write a letter. You might remember the letter I wrote to the “before” version of myself – – That’s still one of my favorite posts that I’ve ever written.
Well, last week, as I was flying home from St. Louis, I wrote myself this letter… and it’s addressed to “current” me, reminding me of all that “before” me went through, and how appreciative “future” me would be if I made some changes.
No, I don’t have it all figured out… but I often feel like once I write about something, I release it…and I’m able to act. So, here you go…
How’s it going? I know you’re out of cellular coverage while you’re at 30K feet, but I figured this was a good time to have a little chatty chat with you.
Have I mentioned that I adore you? Like seriously to the core adore you. I think you’re the most dynamic, funny, and courageous woman I’ve met. I like your sense of style, and your resourcefulness is top notch. And, you’re rocking your career right now… Seriously, kicking ass. I’m so so proud of you for all you’ve become.
And it’s because I adore you that I need to have a serious conversation with you. Friend to friend. Yes, I’m your friend and this message comes from my heart and COMPLETELY from a place of kindness.
You HAVE to stop.
I know. We don’t do “shoulds” in our relationship… They’re exhausting, but tonight, I beg of you. I implore you. You must stop.
I’ve looked away for the past month. I’ve glanced away you’ve devoured all the foods you don’t typically eat. I’ve made excuses for you as you ate onion rings, pasta, and meat lover’s pizza (what?) in St. Louis all week. I’ve considered interrupting as you inhaled tapas (and wine) in Chicago and let’s not even begin to discuss that Chicago dog.
Here’s the thing: I thought the foods would make you feel bad and that your food hangover would be enough to stop the madness. I thought you would get your usual heartburn at the taste of fried food, and it would stop you in your tracks. I was SURE that you’d order a salad on your last night in St. Louis and get back on the treadmill… But you didn’t.
So, here I am. And, I can’t hold it in any longer. You HAVE to stop.
I remember you before you lost weigh. I adored you then, but you didn’t adore you. You worried about your weight, and always thought everyone was looking at your body in a negative light. You lost so much time being self-conscious. You wasted so much time worrying about what other people thought. You held yourself back from doing so many things…
And, then… You recaptured your life. One day at a time, you made sure that you put you first and you SUCCEEDED! You smiled more. You took a Happiness Tour and invited the world to join you; you didn’t let anything get in your way.
Now, I see you slowly slipping back into bad habits. Yes, I know it’s not the terribly binging habits you used to have, but I feel like what you’re doing now is a slide in the wrong direction. You’re eating your trigger foods, and just like you feared… you’re not able to stop after one serving. And, oh man, if it’s chips and salsa… it’s even worse. Your time at the gym, well, it’s getting better… but it’s far from where you need to be. That outlet not only allows you to burn extra calories, but it also provides you with a daily reminder of the course your on. A reason not to indulge when you get home from your exercise. I’d like to see you get back into a routine… I promise, it’s worth it.
As your friend, I’m begging you to stop ignoring that number on the scale, to stop ignoring what’s coming if you don’t turn this bus around.
Use your support system. Leverage your learnings.
Devise a plan and stick to it. Meditate. Commit every day to do this for yourself.
You’re worth it. You’re worth every bit of it.
And, if you choose not to take these steps, know that I am here for you evermore. Your weight does not, and will never, define you.
But here’s the thing: When you are happy, the world lights up around you. And, that is my only wish for you, my dear.
xoxo – me