Weight & my addiction expressed through food

As I dug through the 'man drawer', past the string and scissors an weird things that we never use, the superglue and the sewing stuff, I remembered something that hasn't crossed my mind in 35 years.  Weigh-ins.  In the military I sometimes had the job of conducting weigh-ins for my fellow soldiers who exceeded the weight limits for their height.  And toward the end of my military career I too was subjected to the dreaded experience.  Coming into the office in shorts and a t-shirt.  Raising my arms while the training sergeant got a little closer than is comfortable so they can wrap the tape measure around my waist.  I'd done this to others, and it's awkward.  It's embarrassing.  You have to line up the tape measure around the widest part of your waist, your belly, your fat.  Then pull it to get rid of the slack without squeezing.  Taking note of the measurement, I think we repeated the process three times and took the average number in case our readings varied a bit. 

I hated this.  Taking my shirt off is something else I have always hated.  Going in the swimming pool or ocean, I would rather not.  Or quickly get under water so I don't have to look at myself or think of others seeing my disgustingly fat belly.

At a breath-work event last month we were all lying on the floor, looking up, breathing in unison as directed by the leader.  We were preparing to feel emotional, to cry, to even scream at the end on his command (weird!) but when he instructed us to inhale deeply and into our bellies, I was distracted and unable to relax when considering filling my belly with every breath and letting it be the size it would naturally be.  I was trying to get out of my head, the point of the event, but that's the thought that dogged me--my belly.  I don't like saying it, I don't like writing it.

Good thing my recovery has evolved and mutated to me experimenting with noticing my body when I shower and get dressed every morning.  That helps, very slowly and very gently.  Especially as it has now evolved into me looking at my face and saying something affirming to myself that I know cuts directly against the grain of my biggest foundational struggles with my own identity:  "You are worth love."  "I'm not going to give up on you'" and the toughest to be sincere and look into my eyes in the reflection when I say, "I love you.".  I often have to try a few times to get rid of the sarcasm.  

The core of my struggles is believing deep down, in my heart, that I'm not loved (and that I'm alone and that I'm not doing enough).  Even though I know in my rational brain that I am loved and that I'm not alone and that I am doing plenty.  So daily affirmation addressing the most important of these feels very important.  I couldn't do this honestly and with integrity even last year.  It's something that I had to build toward and stumble into and feel ready to do.  Having a photo of myself as a cute and innocent little kid helped at first.  How can you not say, "I love you" to this little guy?  Of course he deserves my love.  Saying the words out loud was awkward and a little scary at first.  But I look at my body in the mirror, and I'm practicing accepting myself, inside and out.