It’s February 27, 2017 and it’s been 4 years since Sharon Jordan left this world. I wish I could say something that was less clique the usual things people say after the loss of a loved one. Like, “I miss her everyday” or “Things will never be the same.” But those are exactly the words that so desperately want to fall from my lips. I miss her. She was my best friend and helped raise me. She wasn’t your average active grandma she went so far beyond that. Maybe that’s why I feel the need to please her but how can you please a ghost? Especially when it’s someone you know would never judge you to begin with?
I live with the chronic belief that I must make everyone I cherish in my life proud and if I’m not doing that then I am failing at life. I want to live my life my way but I also have an underlining need to be perfect. Or at least thin.
So, that’s where my current struggles begin. Recently I went on a date that I found very pleasurable and promising. The boy however, did not feel the same way as he has not spoken to me since. And while logically I know that rejection hurts everyone no matter what your size it seems in my mind that my rejection is far worse then what any other person could feel.
I realize this is a greatly flawed way of thinking but I cannot help the emotions that I feel. I also can’t help but wonder and pity myself for my size. I know realistically that my weight most likely played a big part (no pun intended) as to why I did not get a second date. Because a selfie from the chest up on a dating site can only give a very small idea as to how big I truly am.
And as you can guess once I get sent into this state of mind it is a downward spiral. From being told by my own family that most men will probably not find me attractive and society telling me that I am a horrible, ugly, lazy human being, it leaves little hope that one day I will be able to replace my purity ring with an engagement ring.
As I’m sure most single people have done this evening I began daydreaming about being in love but quickly realize that my love will not be like the movies. I will not be able to be the small spoon, be carried by my man, and many other things that “normal” sized couples do. Sex will even have to be different.
The eating disorder that still lives inside of my revels at these thoughts and enjoys my misery because it gives it power and a chance to creep back into my life. But I know that if I truly want to make Grandma Sharon proud I need to stay strong in recovery and stubborn, very stubborn.