Day 4: Secrets Secrets Are No Fun

When I began this journey and this blog, I made a promise to myself to let honesty be my guide.  I didn’t want to do it or write about it without being fully open because to me, keeping it a secret means that I feel shameful about it, and that’s not what it’s about at all.  Now, that’s not to say that those who are private about their health journey are shameful about it, but for me, shame has been the reason why I have been private about my struggles in the past.  I was ashamed of my body, but I was even more ashamed that I was trying to change it because I was unhappy.  I was sad that I didn’t look like everyone else, that I couldn’t eat like my brothers and not gain weight, that I didn’t get excited about exercising every day like some athletic people I know, and that I wasn’t happy in my own body, no matter what size it was.  At that point, I would lie about my weight (on my drivers license), I would hide my diet food from friends and just not eat when they were around, and try to exercise while making it all look like it’s not a big deal.

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And let’s face it, there is a stigma out there that going on diets and working out when at the weight I’m at is a joke.  That it’s something to hide from people.  That kind of activity is saved for the strong, the thin, the athletic people who look good on a weight machine, not the heifer who’s sweating all over the equipment and thiiiiiiiis close to puking.  Which is funny, because there’s also a stigma that if you’re fat, you should be unhappy and always dream of a thinner body.  That you should be in the gym every day, eating like a rabbit, because you should be unsatisfied with your fatass until its a tight ass.  So we can’t win, no matter what we do?!  WHO THE FUCK DECIDED ON THAT??

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That’s why I decided that I would not only be completely honest with myself, but I’d also let others in on it.  I was going to post my true weight, I was going to post actual beginning pictures (clothed, because as of right now, I wouldn’t even show them to torture victims [yes, I’m completely aware this is me shaming my own body.  I get to do that every once in a while.  back the fuck off]), and I was going to update with completely honest posts, pictures of my food, and even photos of my sweaty ass workin’ it in the gym.  Not because I wanted praise and love and to be noticed for the “great job!” I’m doing, but to keep my accountable.  I needed to know that, even if NO ONE read this blog or listened when I rambled on about this “bullshit journey” I’m on (if you’ve seen me in the last four days you know this is how I refer to my life now), I will still have evidence out in the universe that I am trying.  That I am working to change my life and my mindset.  And that I have, in part, succeeded because I crossed the starting line.  I’ve pushed “play”.  I’ve entered the ring.

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Now what came out of it?  Mountains and mountains of support.  People I know and love, and who I may not have spoken to in a while, have reached out telling me how proud they are.  They’ve been letting me know that they’re on a similar journey, or that they’ve been there before (and will show me before photos, which fill me with such admiration, awe, and love that I cannot even explain it).  They’ve given me so much love and hope and support that I no longer feel like I’m doing it alone thanks to all these hands gently lifting me towards my goal.  And with all that help, I know that, even when this 30 days ends, Because this journey is life long, and so are these friends.

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-E Daly

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