My weight has started shooting up again, and I’m trying to hang in there until I see the endocrinologist in a week and a half. It’s been hard in a lot of ways, and it’s brought up some stuff.
I’ve sometimes asked people I love, both friends and family, if they would still love me if I keep gaining weight. I know the answer, but it just feels good to get the reassurance. I know they’re telling the truth when they say yes.
A friend flipped it around last night. After he said yes, he asked me to justify his answer, to give the reasoning I thought was behind his response.
Somehow, I was in a place where I felt I could see it from his point of view, and I could see how ridiculous the question was. I pointed out that it feels like asking, “Will you still love me if it rains tomorrow?”
My weight/shape/size don’t matter in any of my close relationships. I’m not believing it 100% of the time, but I’m starting to really grasp it, and I’m getting to the point where I can hang on to that feeling more and more.
It feels good.