Galatians 5

My reading this morning was in Galatians 5, with a focus on the first verse. As I read, I began to furiously journal my response. I've struggled with my self image my entire life. I grew up parents who spent their lives dieting and a sister who was older but much smaller. Comments were constantly made about how I must be older than her because I was so much bigger, and with the help of the media, and a family legacy of body negativity, it wasn't long until my eating became disordered and I put my value almost entirely on my clothing size. Many survivors of trauma use food as a dopamine fix or a safety strategy to keep threats away, and I was no different. I ate when I felt triggered, stressed, or needed a burst of "happiness." I ate when I felt like men were looking at me, or if I felt I was garnering too much attention, the fat layers serving as a protection against unwelcome advances. Any time I lost weight, I noticed how immediately people commented on it, telling me how pretty I was, how valuable and petite. I interpreted this to mean that the more I shrank, the more people would love me and protect me, so I decided in college I would eat as little as possible. With the help of the old style weight loss drugs, I lost quite a bit of weight my freshman year (and gained some serious health palpitations). It didn't help that my freshman roommate was a former Ms. Teen Texas who cut a protein bar into thirds as her main meals, and I found myself trying to compete with how little she ate. I tried, at one point to eat only a slice of bread twice a day. When I felt like I was going to pass out, sometimes I would spread a thin layer of mayo on each slice. When this proved unsustainable, I began to binge and purge, eating entire desserts and then throwing them up as soon as I finished. After a while, this method lost its effectiveness, so I used exercise as a form of bulimia, exercising non-stop. In college I ran so much that both of my big toe nails fell off. Exercise became my favorite method for controlling my weight, working through broken toes, pulled muscles and torn tendons. If I didn't complete a workout deemed intense enough, I would feel shame and guilt, binge, and then try to make up for it the next day. I cycled the shame and guilt over and over, hurling insults in the mirror and vowing that today would "be the biggest I will ever be" (as if my size was the secret key to happiness and fulfillment).

In recent years, after marrying my amazing husband, I felt like most of my body issues had resolved due to his loving encouragement. Enter perimenopause. I'm not even sure how to describe how hormonal fluctuations make women feel, but I'm pretty sure I turned into a bridge troll at some point. As I read Galatians 5:1, I was struck with immediate conviction about the way I talk about and deeply feel about my body. There are so many times I sit out of family pictures or avoid situations where I would have to wear particular clothing, missing out on experiences with my family, and opportunities to share the love of Christ with those around me. If I am truly transformed, why do I let my physical appearance keep me from loving my body in the thoughtful way it was created? Why do I look at butterflies, animals and flowers with such awe, wonder, and appreciation, and then glance in the mirror and feel like I am less than? Why do I let the shape or the weight of my body stop me from joyfully interacting with those around me? Well, when you know better you do better. I decided today that I will steward my body well, fueling it instead of eating for comfort, and speaking kindly about the parts of my body that have done amazing things. My belly held my precious son, my arms and back are strong because I carried him as a baby and toddler across festivals, into sports events and through gardens and museums. My legs are strong enough to squat over 300 pounds, and my hands are strong enough to hold all of the grocery bags in a single trip and open just about any pill bottle or pickle jar. I can run, dance, swim, and play. I can hold my husbands hand and ride our bikes together in the evening. I can jump over ocean waves until I'm out of breath, lungs burning. My body has carried new life, comforted friends and family, and stood strong despite the many challenges I have faced from childhood and into adulthood. I am determined now to thank God every day for blessing me with a body that is full of health and strength. I will model healthy confidence for my students and my son, and I will break the family legacy that whispers less is more. My family, we will no longer shrink or conform to the standards of this world because we do not belong to this world. Baby, we were made for more.

It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery. -Galatians 5:1 (NASB)

My journal writing 9/11/26:

"Lord, I hate my body. I hate my huge belly and I let it change the way I live my life. I'm concerned with my looks and my weight and I spend way too much time trying to control it all. My weight has become the chains holding me back from truly living joyfully in You. I hate pictures of myself and I overthink how I look when I should be showing the world how joyful life is when I walk with You! Lord, help me surrender control and accept and love myself exactly how You created me- with strong legs, dark eyes and a widow's peak. I surrender my health to You God and will steward my body in a way that glorifies You! I no longer need the comfort or protection of food or layers of fat to keep threats away. I am safe and I am loved. Give me a body that fulfills my calling- strong, capable and full of Your love. Help me ignore the influence of the world trying to diminish my presence, and help me walk into every room with the confidence that comes with being created and chosen by You."