Over the last few years, I’ve
chased goals (and achieved them) due to the constant voice within me striving to approve.
At my smallest I weighed 8
stone 3lbs, a few lbs shy of the anorexic bracket for my height. Society told
me this weight was an achievement, I had finally reached the ‘thin ideal’
despite the fact that the relationship I had with myself and food was far from
ideal. The desperate need to be skinny had completely taken over my life, and
it suddenly became a numbers game, weighing a certain weight, fitting into a
certain jeans size, the amount of inches baggier my favourite shirt was…
Since when did we become so
obsessed with numbers? The idea that a certain number dictates level of
achievement, level of commitment, level of passion. The number of hours spent
in the gym, or the number of minutes spent with loved ones is ignored. We
forget the sacrifices made to chase that superficial dream.
Three years on and I am still
fighting a constant struggle with confidence, though now I am chasing happiness
instead of a disappearing waistline. I have finally sound a job and partner
that I completely adore and suddenly health and fitness, which once completely
dominated my life, has faded in the background.
Don’t get me wrong, I still
train hard 5-6 times a week, eat well 95% of the time, and occasionally feel
guilty for having that slice of cake, but I am trying every day not to pick my
self apart. I’m focusing on rewarding myself in my career and my relationship
by being truly happy.
For over a year I convinced
myself I wanted to step on stage, spent 6 months ‘bulking’ and then 10
grueling weeks of dieting. I have also come to the conclusion that when I was
at my smallest, I was also my most unhealthy, doing endless amounts of cardio
and eating nowhere enough to fulfill a grueling work schedule. I have pushed
my body to limits that most wouldn’t even dream of, and I am still nowhere near
the svelte lean fitness models I convinced myself I wanted to be.
Last month I had to make a
decision. I picked an amazing job opportunity over ten minutes on stage. To
some, health and fitness is everything, and for a large proportion of my life
it was too. It is only now I realise this was because other aspects of my life were
lacking in true purpose. In order to put everything I could into a my dream career, I had to let go of a grueling 3 hour a day cardio binge and focus on
fuelling myself enough to be the best employee I could be.
This wasn’t an easy decision
to make, and most probably won’t understand the torment I faced. Lack of
understanding doesn’t concern me so much, and neither does the possibility that
people will assume I’d ‘given up.’ I don’t expect people to understand my
thought process, nor do I feel the need to justify myself, I’m more sending out
a message to others that it’s okay to pick other things over
your appearance.
I may have been lean but what
does that even mean if you aren’t happy? I was moody, argumentative, emotional
and a shadow (both physically and mentally) of my former self. I couldn’t concentrate
on the simplest of tasks and found myself daydreaming about my next cold,
tupperware-housed meal.
Dedication is one thing, but sacrificing
your mental state for anything is completely unnecessary. I know that now. I
know that with a good job, a loving partner and a future that’s focused on
health and happiness, that my body will respond positively in the end.
I have chosen to continue my
journey in South Africa, in the media industry I always dreamed of being part of. This doesn’t
mean a downward spiral to obesity, it just means I must find a happy medium,
where I enjoy my life inside and outside of the gym. Yes I may not be lean, my abs are hidden
behind a layer of fluff and I’m definitely not ‘bikini ready’ but I’m measuring success
from happy clients, friends and family, and not on trophies and tan.
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