Inner Monologues

Today I'm thinking about inner monologue -- the conversations we have with ourselves to fuel our actions and often, to justify and excuse our inaction. It's been on my mind for a little while now after a few conversations and observations throughout my week. However, today the thoughts weigh more heavily because of what was mentioned in a friend's blog.

Amanda's blog was on bridalplasty -- the reality competition to get plastic surgery for a wedding - and the ideas that spring from that. One such idea was the opposition that declares the value of who a person is and not what they look like. Sounds golden, right?

Maybe not. I happen to be from the camp that thinks that content and appearance are not mutually exclusive. Who says that you can't be a good person and an attractive person? Who says you can't be a real piece of work who is unattractive to boot? I'll tell you who, no one.

If I didn't think it would embarrass them to no end, I'd list people I know personally who are drop dead gorgeous, who have healthy bodies and who have hearts of gold. Seriously. Why shouldn't you shoot for external improvement?

Most people are smart enough to know that their inner battle with physical responsibility is externally obvious. They are growing wider, their skin may be dulling, their activity slowing. Let's face it, sexual interest or even sexual identity may be waning. In my own personal history ALL of this was true. At 35, I was settling down into the identity of a teacher and mother in a world ruled by anonymous servitude.

You can see it my pictures -- or lack thereof -- in the times I said that things were "for the kids" (in my home or class) not for me. In the way I approached everything as though my life was purely that of a supporting cast member, here to make everyone else's dreams come true. I didn't want to be the focus, because then, I'd be the focus. I didn't want anyone to look because then they might really see. Make sense?

What I'm saying is that I didn't want to be examined, to be judged because I knew, deep inside, what they'd find. I wasn't old enough to quit -- no one is until they leave this earth -- I had no real excuse for dropping out of life and running to the arms of my food and sofa.

I think that others are similar in some ways, and that it boils down to inner monologue - the conversation we have within ourselves. I think it goes a little something like this:

I know I am living an unhealthy lifestyle. I overeat, or use food for friendship, comfort, reward, escape, you name it. I am not active and am scared of what would happen if I tried. What if I looked ridiculous? What if I hurt myself?

I thought these words, that's how I know folks think it. I'd been scared of sitting on certain chairs, my son's platform bed, etc. for years for fear that they would break beneath me. I was TERRIFIED for months that something would happen to me at the gym, I'd pass out, and people would have to carry me -- anywhere.

And that is what is common to the internal monologue of so many overweight people: Fear. From the root to the toot, there is fear all up in that thing. And what happens when we are afraid? That's right: Psych 101, fight or flight.

I think the temptation is clearly present to opt for flight: come up with a million distractions and justifications. As a matter of fact, for years I allowed people to tell me I wasn't that heavy, that I was fine. I heard it from my friends and from my husband and I tried like heck to make it stick. But you know what, no one can challenge the truth of obesity. No one can take away the fact that I was afraid of what my body couldn't do and where I was headed if I didn't stop. And still, I danced around the reality for years.

My old favorite mantra: Looks aren't everything. I was pretty once, now I'm a good person, a faithful wife, and a loving mother.

Does everyone feel this way? No. Of course not. But I'd be willing to bet some do. My thought is that you can fight just as easily as you can fly. Lying to myself, finding creative ways to eat off the radar, buying more and more clothes in ever increasing sizes was just as hard as losing 40lbs. Seriously. You just have to change the inner monologue.

My new favorite mantra: Looks aren't everything, but feelings are. People matter, relationships matter, starting with me and my relationship with myself.

My new internal monologue:

I don't want my sons to think that they have to choose between a faithful wife and loving mother to their children and a someone they are sexually attracted to. My husband is a good man and he deserves to have someone who is both good to be with and fun to look at. Most importantly, I want to be here and to be strong so that I can share in my family's life, rather than simply supporting it.

So the ultimate truth is: it all comes down to the thoughts you replay in your mind. These thoughts will guide your actions, become your character and shape your destiny.

Until next,