Indulgence

I'm going to be who I set out to be. It isn't easy to stay on the right road. It isn't easy to take a stand, to be different. But I am no longer doing what's easy... I am doing what is necessary.

Our family, my family, has horrible eating habits. I've grown up with overweight parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents... I have struggled with my weight for 10 years. I feel too often that I am alone in this. I've been down this road so many times. I just can't keep living this weigh (yes, weigh).. I'm breaking free of the cage of this body. It's my choice, for me. I'm handling my responsibility. I'm strong enough to do this. And I am... but I still feel it's not enough.

I sat at a family dinner tonight. I loved it, don't get me wrong. Twenty five of us at a restaurant. Food and stories and laughter and love... just the most beautiful time. The deep fried foods passed up and down the table; the mounding desserts after excessive dinners. Courses of food for everyone and portions large enough for ten for each individual. And it was hard. This is what we do. It's how we celebrate; it's how we mourn. It's how we slowly kill ourselves in indulgence. To mention the danger, the disgust, the wrong in this, would be to hang your own noose. I'm certain that writing this now will piss of some people I love to the point that this week will be miserable. This year could be miserable, all because I think it needs to be said and what I say, in this world, is unspeakable.

Being silent is laying my finger on the trigger. It's time to change. It's time to go down this road together. I was able to enjoy tonight, with a small salad and baked potato. A few bites of the indulgences but of reasonable foods, in reasonable amounts. And it was enough. The family is filling. The food wasn't necessary, but it is a part of us, and the enjoyment of sharing a meal would be deeply missed. Just a change in the foods we share, and the amounts we consume. A change in the push to eat as a way of expressing our love for each other and the acceptance of the food no longer representing an acceptance of that love.

So I am hanging my own noose and saying what we don't say: this is enough. We are enough. Please.

In firing range,
Beth