Truth. These past few weeks have been difficult. Instead of mourning the loss of my father, I’ve been trying to deal with the turmoil that usually follows a death in the family. I say usually because I’ve seen this happen to other families, things I swore would never happen in mine. So it’s been difficult to come up with something uplifting and humorous to write. The only thing I can come up with is truth.
Truth is most often more uplifting if you really let it in. It can put a smile on your face when you put away all those masks you’ve been wearing.
Early this year, I set out on a transformation journey, one I’ve failed countless times in my 38 years. I thought that, now, with a stable home life, a loving husband, and two healthy sons, I could overcome it all just one more time. And I did.
For a little while.
Truth. I have always been overweight. I can match most stories of being bullied relentlessly with no savior. My mother told me not to worry because in some cultures fat women were revered because it was assumed they came from a rich family. (Can’t make this stuff up.)
My first husband’s mother, upon meeting me for the first time, told me I was lovely. I thought, “Wow, nobody has ever called me lovely before.” OK, so maybe her entire comment was actually, “She would be so lovely if she were thin.” We’ve all heard that one, right? We would be so pretty if we were thinner, taller, if our noses were straighter, if we had bigger breasts, or smaller hips. We would be so pretty if we looked nothing like ourselves.
Through my most recent attempt things worked. With some small changes — a lot of money and a lot of Jesus — I lost some weight. I felt good for a little while. People called me inspiring, and that meant more than anyone ever calling me pretty.
Then. Oh, then.
When unshackled from my Fitbit on an anniversary vacation to Las Vegas, I felt something that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. Freedom. I hadn’t looked at my wrist in a few hours and it felt good. And the avalanche began. This transformation had been at the forefront of my existence daily. It came to a screeching halt, however, when my 3-year-old son asked me to pet his stuffed puppy while I was in the throes of yet another workout video. How dare he interrupt me?
When I realized what had just happened, I felt like the absolute worst mother in the world. I had this all wrong. What good is living longer if I’m a complete jerk to my kids? It stopped there.
All of it.
By a show of hands, who will go postal the next time they hear someone say they have a thin woman on the inside just screaming to get out? Oh they’re screaming alright, but not for reasons you may think. I have spent a lifetime being overweight. I can tell you every trick and every hide. I can bring you bowing before the altar of the highest kale. But now that I know what a gorgeous woman Compassion is, I would toss the kale to my guinea pig and ask if you wanted to go for coffee and talk.
Truth. I went from one end of the spectrum to the other. From sitting on the couch 22 hours a day to working out four times every day, hitting the gym and watching every bite. Now I’m trying to find that happy middle.
Truth. I have no idea where that is.
Here’s what I do know. You are beautiful. If you’re working out, do it. If you’re doing nothing at all, do it. Find your happy, wherever it is, be kind to it no matter what size it wears. I want you to know that skirt does look amazing on you even without a big jacket to cover it all up. Those sandals are the cutest things I’ve seen all summer, even if your feet are fat like mine and spilling over the edge of them. I envy that you can wear a top without a bra. I’m serious. If you like black, wear it. But please don’t wear it because you think it makes you look thin.
I want you to know you are worth everything you want to buy for yourself. If your husband is fed, if your kids are chasing each other through the house, go buy yourself something. Here’s a challenge. Get away from that clearance rack and buy yourself a pair of underwear that come on a hanger, not in a big sack of 20 for $6.99. Buy yourself one of those houseplants on the end cap that’s almost dead. See if you can bring it back to life. Finding out that we are nurturing women can make a big difference, acknowledging the power of air, water and sunlight on plant life and human alike can change the world. I promise.
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Alissa Hewitt was born in Arizona and raised in California. When she was 21, she visited her mother in Montana. Amazed that someone could make under $7 an hour and rent a house, she stayed. She’s lived in Butte, Billings and Great Falls before moving to Chinook. After 17 years in Big Sky Country, she can say with certainty that Montana has a heartbeat all of its own.
Together with her husband, she manages a wattle manufacturing business. The couple two young children, six fish, four cats, three dogs, and each other.
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