This morning I did something that I haven't done in a very long time: Weighed myself. As I looked down at the digital numbers staring back at me, my eyes widened. I now weigh 159 pounds. I have tried everything to slim down since the birth of my daughter. She's 21 months old now, and that scale hasn't budged a digit. Before I became pregnant with aneksi, I weighed 125 pounds. During my late teens early 20's , I began skipping meals, fasting, and starving myself in order to be as thin as possible. I managed to whittle myself down to 119 pounds. I remember all the compliments I recieived about my size, yet I was ashamed, and miserable with how I looked.
I try to pinpoint this weight obsession of mine, and I remember when I was 10 years old, I saw a picture of myself blowing bubbles in front of a rose bush at my aunts house. The first thing that popped into my mind, was how large my thighs were. My legs have always been my problem area, and it's where I tend to carry my weight. They have gotten even bigger since giving birth to aneksi, and I find myself looking at them all the time to see if they have shrunk yet.
I thought that as I got older, I would come to terms with my body as a woman. "Your supposed to have meat on you, your black"! is what people say to me. But, I've never felt that because I am a black woman, I should allow myself to get big, and do nothing about it. In all honesty, I've never been big, and maybe I just need to accept the fact that I will be 37 in march, I had a child, and my body is changing. But, I can't accept that. 159 is not acceptable for me, yet I'm tired of thinking about my weight, I'm tired of hating my body, and being ashamed of it. I'm tired of not being able to look at myslef in the full length mirror in my house, or hanging my head down with insecurity as I walk down the street. I just want to be able to love myself. I wonder if that's something I will ever be able to do.