It's 1 PM, I'm still in bed, and Ron has been trying to make as much noise as possible in hopes that I finally unstick myself from my pillow.
This actually happened three weeks ago in the thick of COVID19.
I felt like I didn't want to stop sleeping because in my opinion, there was nothing to be awake for.
All I could do during the day was sit at my desk, munch on food, and work. I felt purposeless and I refused to look in the mirror because I knew I was probably gaining a few pounds. It terrified me. So my master plan? I wouldn't eat if I was fast asleep.
And on top of that, whenever I'd get on social media and begin scrolling to distract myself, I'd see every single blogger showing me how to break a sweat at home (with equipment I did not have), how still have abs by summer 2020, and how to eat during quarantine. They would prove that their methods work by showing their rock hard abs and flexing in the camera.
I couldn't escape it. I felt like the only one in the world crying over how much I missed the gym - In a sense, I was going through a break up.
The stress of weight gain began taking over my life. Whenever I was awake, I'd chronically complain about not having a place to exercise, beg Ronnie to buy me a Peloton (he said yes, but won't currently buy one for me because it's for the wrong reasons and he'd be feeding my insecurities), and obsess about portioning out my food.
It was exhausting, unhealthy, and proved to be an idol in my life.
I clearly needed to spend time with Jesus.
And so I did.
I buried my face in my Bible, wrote down specific verses that stuck out to me, and then prayed them over my life. I asked God to give me His eyes. To love what He loves. To hate what He hates. I begged Him for a radical change of heart.
And as my worship music blasted and tears flowed down my face, I suddenly felt sad.
Not the kind of sad that is anxiety and fear driven. But the kind of sad that you feel when your 10 year old niece comes home and says someone called her ugly at school.
I was that little girl.
I was also the bully.
I wanted that torture to be over, once and for all.
As God was transforming my thought process in those moments, I couldn't help but want to tell that little girl inside of me how loved and perfect she was. I wanted to tell her to give grace to herself, especially during this unprecedented time. I wanted to scream "beauty isn't defined by the world!!!! It's defined by JESUS."
So I did. I journaled a letter to the insecure parts of myself that I hated the most and I chose to believe in the promises of God, rather than the lies of the enemy.
Now? I'm focused on being wholesome.
Instead of my goals being "muscle gain + eat less carbs + burn a bunch of calories" .... My goals are now to just stay healthy.
We are in the middle of a pandemic for crying out loud and I'm worried about how much weight I'm losing and how much muscle I'm gaining? Give me a break! I consider getting out of bed and going out for a walk a win.
And sister, you should too.
If we wouldn't hold our friend to this impossible standard, then why are we holding ourselves to one?
We aren't defined by the scale. Not now. Not later. Not ever.