Destination Discipline

For many years I didn’t know who I was. Sure, I knew my name and general proclivities but I wasn’t cognizant of my real identity. Every day my emotions led me around by the nose while I smiled or whimpered at their whim. One could say I was a bit of a trainwreck. And I didn’t let people help me. I didn’t want to acknowledge there was a problem.

I burned through several important relationships because every time something happened(bad or good) I would dump all of my feelings onto that person, using them as a sounding board and all around safety net. I would not only yack their ear off, I would then ask for their advice. I refused to make a decision about anything until I asked everyone I came into contact with what they thought I should do.

Even worse, I would then neglect their advice, do what I wanted to do and then apologize. I still have a habit of apologizing for anything and everything. Almost as if I’m apologizing for my existence. I have been so worried about what everyone thought of me that I didn’t take the time to understand who I was. My identity was centered around what I thought people wanted me to be. Trying to please everyone and in essence pleasing no one.

Someone close to me hurt my feelings recently. They only said a few words but those choise words cut deep. The old song about sticks and stones breaking bones, but words would never hurt me is so untrue. I have been thinking about that person and what they said for a month now. Wondering why they said what they did and if they could possibly know how deep it went. As usual, I am too much of a coward to call them out on it. I’m worried I’ll make it worse, to be frank, and that I should just forgive and move on. I could talk about forgiveness and reconciliation here and but that’s not the topic of this blog. What I want to discuss here is loving myself and knowing who I am outside of what other people think of me. This person fundamentally attacked my lifestyle and in a very personal way. I think I know their motives, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The point I want to make is this, I have determined that I no longer need to apologize for myself. Who I am is good. That is not to say I am perfect, but in general, I have honest intentions. I am living a healthy lifestyle. I am aware that I was once enslaved to food and have been set free. I have done much research on how food negatively impacts the lives of people I care deeply for. And in fact, I see that many people I care deeply for are hurting because they have many of the same struggles I have with food. I am also angry. I am angry at companies that make food addictive and promote ill health. I am angry at our culture when it promotes laziness, gluttony and greed. And I honestly want to change the world. I want to change it by speaking truth about the foods we consume and our attitudes about them. When I see an ad for mega stuff Oreo cookies, I want to tell people how many chemicals are in them in the hopes that educating that person will help set them free from eating a whole bag but not understanding why. It is not because I am trying to make that person feel bad about their food choices. To the contrary, I only want to help.

I look at it this way, if I were walking through the woods and came across a person who had fallen into a ditch and broken their ankle and couldn’t get up, I would offer assistance. That person might tell me, “I don’t need your help.” Then I would walk on. If that person cried and said, “I do need help.” I would do everything in my power to do just that.

My husband acuses me quite frequently of lecturing. Truth be told, I am frequently lecturing myself out of eating something I really want to eat but know it is bad for me. My oldest son and I were at Sam’s on Sunday and I saw a 3.6 pound bag of Skittles. The package was bright red with rainbows on it. I love rainbows. They make me happy. I wanted to buy it and eat every single last Skittle. So I picked up the bag and showed it to my son and said, “How many calories do you think are in this bag?” He rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming. Another lecture. But this time, a nice older gentleman interrupted when he stopped and tried(in his strange senile way) to help me figure out how many calories were in the bag. He did not understand that I was lecturing myself out of buying them. It was actually rather comical. The thing is, I don’t even know I’m doing it most of the time. It’s just who I am now. I have devised all of these internal protection devices to save myself from the lies of the world that try to tempt me. And I want to throw this out there….I’m tired of apologizing for it.

I am that crazy health freak people complain about. I get it. I’m weird. But you know what? I’ve been weird since the third grade when they put me in the class for slow kids. And maybe even before that. I don’t know how to be normal. I don’t even know what normal is. My friends will attest to this. I am coming out of the closet to everyone else. I’m not going to apologize for being who I am any longer.

The thing is, I have been liberated from a lifetime of unhealthy living. I don’t have it all figured out. I’m on the journey, learning every day how to care for my body. And I have so many foibles and a trillion regrets. But I’m doing my darnedest to make my life better one choice at a time. I honestly don’t judge people on how they live their life(at least I try really hard not to). I’ve lived it. I have been the guy with the broken ankle refusing help. But today, I want to help other people get their lives on track. You might think I’m lecturing. I want to be forthright with you, I’m just being who I am. I know who I am and where I have been. I even know where I’m going. You may not agree with my lifestyle and I may not agree with yours, but I do promise one thing, to share with you what I’ve learned in an effort to help improve your quality of life. Do you know why? Because I care. I wouldn’t tell you there is too much sodium in soda if I didn’t think it was important. And, you might not care. I get it. If you don’t want to hear it, just tell me and I’ll shut up. But it you do…

Maybe

Just maybe

I can help you out of that ditch.

When I was in high school I loved the song, Lean on Me. The version I loved was an R&B cover by Club Nouveau. (The original song was written by Bill Withers.) I can still remember dancing around with my hairbrush in my bedroom, gyrating and twirling as I got ready for school. The hip hop beat really resonated with me at the time but the words still ring true today.

When I first began my journey to better health I asked a friend to be my accountability partner. I don’t think Becky really knew what she was getting into when she said yes. In the beginning I was excited and hopeful. On day 2(ha!) I freaked out. I’m pretty sure I called crying hysterically and asking Becky to pray for me so I wouldn’t eat any candy or french fries. I talk about french fries a lot because they were a staple in my diet back then. I never eat them now and honestly don’t miss them but back then I couldn’t imagine life without them. There were also numerous phone calls to Becky where she listened to me cry over cookies I couldn’t eat at work, stress I didn’t know how to handle without chocolate, and psychological issues related to a lifetime of food addiction. Her unwavering faith in my ability to lose the weight was my pillar of strength. Have I mentioned I’m a little melodramatic? But Becky never let on. She loved me just the way I was.

Then there were the days I had to confess the “bad” thing I had eaten. Sometimes she listened patiently and said, “It’s okay. You won’t do it again.” But most of the time she said, “Margaret! What were you thinking?!” She is really good at giving lectures. Truth be told, I didn’t always tell her when I cheated.

My point in mentioning all this is that more often than not we need someone to lean on in tough times. I know God hears me when I pray for help, but I’m not able to touch Him or hear His voice. I believe that is why God gave us friends. They help carry our burdens, and sometimes go so far as to admonish us when we are boneheads.

One of my favorite books is Pilgrims Progress by John Bunyan. I love the character of Hopeful who meets Christian after his friend Faithful is martyred. When they are imprisoned in Doubting Castle they have each other. I can almost see them in my mind, huddled together, weeping in despair. This is what friends do. They can’t take the pain away, but they can hold us until the time of suffering is over.

I don’t think I would have made it through my journey without Becky. I don’t want to give her all the credit, I made my own choices. But she played an integral role by supporting me when I wasn’t strong enough to support myself. A good friend adds sweetness to a bitter journey.

Today, be the kind of friend you want to have when your world crumbles, and say thank you to the “Beckys” in your life.

There are days when everything feels wrong. All my doubts about my abilities attack like a swarm of killer bees and sting the stuffing out of me. I want to crawl into the corner and wail. After all, my heart hurts and self pity is fun. Ask Eyeore.

But when I stop and face the truth, I realize no matter how I “feel” I need to face the truth without discounting said feelings. And the truth is, I am not a victim unless I allow myself to be.

I have moments where I replay in my head something stupid I did and can’t take back. One of my big time regret moments was when I was in my early 20’s. I was out in the country at my grandparents farm with my future husband and brother. We were trying to catch frogs by holding extremely still and waving little red flag with hooks in front of bullfrogs. My brother was a young teenager and was having immense fun antagonizing me. This went on for an hour or so and finally, I told him to get the bleep out of there and leave us alone. Which he did. Probably 30 minutes passed and I heard him calling to me from behind the grass where I couldn’t see him. I was waving my little red flag in front of a particularly large bullfrog when my brother came careening out of the grass shouting “Margaret! Margaret!” And plop, the frog disappeared into the water.

I literally saw red. I was already frustrated with him and doggonit, it was time to tell him. Which I did. With one particularly colorful four letter word. And when I was done I heard a truck pull away and noticed that my grandma and several of my young cousins were with my brother and had all heard my tirade.

I was humiliated. And I’ve never really forgiven myself. My grandma didn’t berate me or say anything mean. She only said, “Margaret, I’m dissapointed.” I can still see her sad face and feel my brokenness. An apology can’t take back the bad word or the sentiment behind it, even if it was directed at my goofy brother. But the guilt reaches out through the years and hurts my heart to this day.

We all do foolish things now and again but for some reason it is really difficult for me to let go of the guilt. I do this with food too. If I indulge in my favorite chocolate cake and then can’t stop eating it, I will feel guilty for a week. There is some part of me that insists on doing penance for the wicked action. My guilt reflex is completely ridiculous but if there was a magnifying glass for my heart one would see the scars from the many times I have given myself 40 lashes plus one.

I was standing in the hall today dwelling on a more recent blunder when I realized I had better things to do than stand around feeling sorry for myself. First of all, if I spend time concentrating on my foolish behavior it takes away from my work. I was very busy today and literally did not have time to dwell on it.

So I stood up tall, clutched my laptop to my chest and took a deep breath. “No more!” I said. “I’m better than this. No more self pity. Time to pick up the pieces and move on.” And then a coworker walked by and looked at me funny and I pretended they hadn’t just heard me talking to myself.

Today if you feel guilty for something you did wrong, let it go. It does no good to hang onto it. Suck some fresh air into your lungs and let it all go while you exhale. You’ll feel better. I promise.

Now I’m going to call my grandma and make sure I’m forgiven for inadvertantly cussing her out 17 years ago. Because whether I meant to or not, I know it hurt her heart and I’ve hung onto it for 17 years too long.

And thanks Sheryl. It’s nice to be forgiven.