My girlfriend, my wonderful partner, lives in Los Angeles and I live on the East Coast. It's been a tough transition having her out there for grad school but we are both making it work the best way we know how. I haven't seen her in over a month and I am relishing the time we have together. This will be our first Thanksgiving as a couple and with all the family drama we have both experienced in the past year, I want nothing more than to be with her, and only her, on a holiday.
So you'd think I'd have woken up this morning with less than 24 hours before I hop on a plane thinking about our first kiss this time around or how lovely it'll be to spend Thanksgiving on the beach because the weather will be pure perfection. Or I'd be thinking about all the fun things we'll do in and outside of her apartment for the five days I'm there.
But you know what I woke up feeling and thinking about this morning? Anxiety. Not excitement, but anxiety, fear, and pessimism. I had high hopes for how my body would look better and better every visit with her. I wanted to hit 168 pounds and fit into this dress I bought in the spring and have never worn because it doesn't actually zip all the way up. But I haven't reached those goals. It hasn't been for lack of trying but just maybe hitting a plateau and not quite knowing where to move next. Eventually I'll figure it out but that meager amount of hope does not make me feel better this morning.
I want to hop off that plane tomorrow morning and into her arms and feel so confident, so beautiful that I focus on nothing but spending every second relishing in her adoration and affection. But I don't think that's going to happen. I wish my trendy skinny jeans fit a little looser. I wish my stomach looked flatter so that I didn't have to worry about how to stand, sit, lay, move in just the right way so that it doesn't look as big as I think it does.
Maybe you'll say to yourself this is all too much personal information from someone you don't know. I say these have got to be common worries for people with poor self-image. I know my girlfriend loves me and I know she must find me beautiful, even if she doesn't say it all the time. But there is this lingering voice in the back of my head that says, "You better hurt up and drop a size or two, you better tone your arms and abs, you better buy all the trendy skirts and jeans and accessories you can find or your girlfriend will leave you." I recognize how absurd that sounds out loud, but no one said anxieties come in rational packages.
I've done this for so long. Lost the pure enjoyment of something because I was so consumed with how I looked and how I thought other people perceived me. I hate water parks because the idea of walking around in my bathing suit all day is terrifying. I can't go jean shopping with anyone else because it can turn into an hours-long affair, most of it spent with me analyzing every angle of my butt in the mirror, berating myself. So many examples of me forgetting about how enjoyable something or someone could be because I hate my size 14/16 body. That's tragic. If you think about it, it's really tragic.
I know we'll have an amazing time when I get there tomorrow afternoon. I know she loves me and I know she would never leave me based on the size of my jeans. But how do I shut off the ever-critical worries in my head? In the end, this is really not about her at all, but about me and my relationship with my body. That's the toughest relationship at all to fix.
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