It's been nearly a week. By all measures, it's been a success. I feel great, I've lost 7 pounds, and I'm still so inspired by the love fest of last weekend that making healthy choices has been an absolute no-brainer. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I feel like I'm ont to something...something seriously wonderful.
And sad. Wonderful and sad. I can't help but notice, now that I'm out of the pantry and talking to anyone and everyone, talking and listening, and relating to everyone...I can't help but notice how much of this battle is about self esteem. This isn't rocket science. I've known this. I've known this on some level, but I think it took going public to really see what I'm dealing with. I outed myself because I knew that others liked/loved/accepted me more than I liked/loved and accepted myself. Much more. So much more. It was time to see what they see in me. It was time to believe what they believe for me. And as I talk, I hear what I'm saying differently. Is this the key to achieving all that one wants in life? Is it just self love? Have I been reading the wrong books? Have I been battling symptoms? Learning to love oneself is such a corny concept. It sounds ridiculous. And yet I'm smiling. Corny. Ridiculous. Not such bad things.
So, that's what I'm thinking. It's not even a week. I've got work to do. Lots and lots of work to do. But this work is satisfying and I feel better than I've felt in ages.
Woo-hoo!!
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