Through your eyes.

I had just blown out my hair after my morning shower. Since I have bangs now, that's not where the hair routine stops because my bangs tend to have a mind of their own without my mini straightener and brush. As I flipped my hair upright and looked into the mirror, makeup less, I sighed as I began my hair routine which would lead into the makeup routine. Amelia stopped hopping around our room and looked up at me and said, "Wow, Mommy. You look beautiful." I mindlessly brushed her off since I knew I didn't even have my face on yet and gave my usual thoughtless response of "Aww, thanks, baby."

Later in the day, I thought back to that moment. How do I fail to see myself through Amelia's eyes? Through the eyes of my husband? The eyes of those around me who know me and still love me? Through the eyes of my Father?

If you know me, you know that I've struggled with my weight from a really young age. I guess it didn't help that I had the body of a 16 year old by the time I was 10 while my little itty bitty friends still looked, well, 10. I do remember being blatantly teased a few times because of it. The most hurtful was in 4th grade - to make the story short, elementary school play, music teacher thought it a great idea to buy one sized t-shirts for every girl. That moment did something to my self-esteem... to my heart... to my soul and my spirit.

I started trying to "diet" when I was in 6th grade - never told my parents or anyone else for that matter - just said I wasn't hungry even though I was starving. Those diets never lasted very long and then I would beat myself up for not having enough self control. Vicious cycle that followed me throughout high school on and off since you're unsure of yourself in high school anyway and you're on an emotional roller coaster all. the. time. College wasn't easier since all we did was eat, sleep, and shop (RACHEL LOLOL) and then promise we'd run "later" which was usually never - the Freshmen 15 is no joke. After I left college, I finally worked up the nerve and coughed up the $$ for the membership fee for the gym. Hli and I were dedicated. Chris & I got engaged shortly after and worked my butt off for my wedding dress. And it paid off. Everyone noticed how much weight I lost. Everyone noticed how tiny my waist was. Everyone noticed how slim my face looked. Everyone. I was repeatedly told about how great I now looked since I lost "so much weight."

With my self esteem sky high and my ability to run 2-3 miles every day after work and calorie intake below 1,200 (some days even lower), I was loving it. And then I got married. And then had a baby.

Some people know that I've taken up running / jogging again - I hit 12 miles/week last week (3 miles for 4 days), by the way - yay!! - and I realize that I don't like it as much as I used to, but I keep telling myself that this is what it'll take. Take to do what? Fit into my old jeans? I guess so. Look thinner in our Christmas cards? Yes. haha. But then what?  I read something on Pintrest about how the pursuit of losing weight has to be more than "looking good in clothes (or there's another quote 'Skinny girls look good in clothes, fit girls look good naked')" because ultimately, a lot of people never lose that view of themselves no matter how much weight they'd lose.

The other week, I read this status posted on Facebook by a friend and then this article that my friend shared with me (Read them - they're great) and it spoke volumes of truth to me and even convicted me of the example I was setting for Amelia. My mom never really talked about weight issues with me. She never really told me I was fat. She never really said anything negative about how I looked - my attitude, yes, but never really my looks (except my stubborn-evil stare). My mom actually defended me when other ladies talked about my weight in front of me as if I couldn't hear them - well, she chalked it up to being "big boned," but that wasn't supposed to hurt my feelings right? My aunts talked about my weight though. A lot. So did my grandma. They laughed a few times after making crude comments about me or snickered as I went for a second helping as if I was supposed to just know that they were "joking." These were women that may not have been direct role models to me, but were women who were supposed to be setting some sort of example for me as a woman and somehow had a hand in how I viewed myself. I'm not blaming them exactly (okay, so after reading it, I kind of maybe slightly blaming them), but they had a big hand in how I viewed myself.

They were also the firsts to tell me how great I looked when I dropped the weight before my wedding and then told me to make sure I watch myself because after a baby "you'll go right back to being big again!" Honestly, I dreaded seeing anyone outside of my immediate family after I had Amelia in fear of what they would think about how I looked. Some people might chalk it up to the culture, but I just call it mean.

So having been on a weight-roller coaster for the past 4 years, I slowly started to get back into working out and eating better (working on that part...), but my view of myself still hasn't changed. Some days I still feel like the overly developed 4th grader. I look at Amelia who is completely perfect to me and realize how much she needs to know that she's utterly and completely beautiful no matter what everything else in the world tells her. And that's my responsibility as her mother and role model.

I think all of this was said to come to this point, though - I need to start looking at myself through the eyes of those who know me and love me, like Amelia, like Chris, like my sisters, my family, my friends. And God. I probably am going to continually strive to fit into my old jeans, look magnificent in our Christmas photos, run a little harder and a little farther, but ultimately, I need to strive to see myself through different eyes. The eyes that don't love me any less because I didn't put on makeup, or can't fit into my wedding dress anymore, or didn't run hard enough this morning. Those eyes are the eyes that should matter more than the eyes that see the last 10 lbs that won't budge, that see the 3 miles I missed last week, or the chocolate bomb that I consumed mindlessly (You have to have one, though!).

I'm not saying that fitness and health aren't important. I think I have a responsibility to make sure I am taking care of the body I have been given, but I have to make sure I'm also taking care of the heart and soul that I've been given. In doing so, I hope I'm also instilling in Amelia a spirit that loves herself no matter what negatives are thrown at her because she knows that there are more important eyes who see her worth.