I’ve always looked to others
to find pride in myself. From a very young age, I wanted to impress people.
It’s been a condition to me for as long as I can remember that in order for
people to like me, in order for me to be worthy of love and acceptance, I must
be remarkable. Couple this with anxiety that wakes me up in the night and
makes my heart race out of worry over circumstances that haven’t even happened.
I never had confidence in my
physical appearance. My body was too thick, my weight was too heavy, my hair
was too curly, my voice was too deep. So I looked for acceptance through
accomplishment. I have always aimed to impress people of authority in
particular. In grade school, I was called a teacher’s pet and a nerd. In 5th
grade, I was named “5th Grader of the Year.” I found out that my
aunt had been valedictorian of her high school. That day, I vowed that I would
be valedictorian too. This extended to everything I did. I was first chair in
band throughout school. I wasn’t the best at cross country and track, but I
frequently earned the award of “most improved.” I won scholarships, more
awards, solo & ensemble medals, and the John Phillip Sousa award for best
musician of my school. Then, my senior year, I achieved what I had had my heart
set on for 7 years. I became valedictorian. Around the time my junior year in
school had come around, however, I was starting to feel a little differently
about my need to accomplish.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
Upon graduation, I was
awarded a full ride 4 year scholarship to Eastern Michigan University and a
full 1 year scholarship to Michigan State University. I turned both down and
moved to Texas, chasing freedom and a boy. (The boy ended up lasting about 3
months) The drive from Michigan to Texas, just me, windows down in my car,
radio blasting, and cigarettes abundant, was one of the most liberating
experiences of my life. My husband and I met about year later, in March. We
were engaged in May and married in October, all in 7 months. He gave me love
and support from the very start, not at all caring that as the years together
ticked higher, so did my weight. Yet he made me feel desired, sexy,
and beautiful in his eyes.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
Turns out, I wasn’t done with
my need to succeed. After moving with my husband to the Philadelphia area, I
started working for a company as the office assistant. Within 2 years, I was
promoted to the administrator and then 2 years later became the Accounting
Manager. After 13 years, I was made a partner in the company. I found myself
climbing my way to the top again.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
I had my first daughter at
age 26. Becoming a mother was both a tremendous joy and a new source of
anxiety. Here was another opportunity to feel unworthy and not good enough. I
found myself short tempered and yelling a lot, bringing on some major feelings
of shame. I made the decision to change this and consciously started working on
choosing how to react to situations that made my anger, or as I nicknamed it,
Sanger – who lived in the basement – climb the basement steps looking to
escape. This worked pretty well for me. I found myself being able to stop my
anger before it escalated. Picturing Sanger as her own identity trying to open
the basement door and dance around naked in the living room helped me to
diffuse the reality of my anger.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
In 2009, my anxiety reared
its head in a bad way. I was physically tired and my body ached most of the
day. I would fall asleep on the couch at night by 8pm because I just couldn’t
stand to be awake any longer. I started seeing a therapist for the first time
and spent about nine months working through some of my issues. But somehow we
never really got around to what was most important: this distortion that my
worth is tied to what others think of me. I got pregnant with my second
daughter in early 2010.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
In July 2014, at 251 pounds,
I finally decided that enough was enough with my weight gain. I felt worse
about myself than I maybe had in my life. I started doing a CrossFit exercise
program and lost 70 pounds in 15 months. I completely transformed the way my
body looked, felt, and moved. And I discovered that I absolutely love being
strong and lifting weights.
I still didn’t feel worthy.
Earlier this year, I had
gained almost 20 pounds back. I was slipping into unhappiness with what I was
doing and feeling like a failure. I made the choice to nurture what I loved
best and was best at, which was strength with powerlifting. I started working a
new program with a new coach at the end of June this year. I truly love what
I’m doing. From the start to early December, I lost the weight I had gained
back, plus another 5 pounds, all while gaining a tremendous amount of strength
and muscle. On December 3rd, I competed in my first powerlifting
meet. I ended up going 8 for 9 in my lifts, hitting a bench press PR, and
winning my division, which came with a big heavy trophy! I love feeling as
strong as I do. I can’t wait to get even stronger. And I am happier with my
physique now than I’ve ever been. My coach has praised me and my
accomplishments both privately and publicly. It makes me feel like a million
bucks.
I still don’t feel worthy.
Present day: I’m starting to
wonder if I will ever feel worthy. Logically, I know that true self-worth
resides in myself. I can’t find it from anyone else. However, I can’t seem to
make my emotions understand this.
Social media wreaks havoc on
my anxiety. And yet I can’t seem to stay away from it. I often share my weight
loss and lifting journey on Facebook. To be perfectly honest, I do this because
it means a lot to me to hear people tell me that my story has inspired them to
keep pushing and achieve something they want. This feels good to me. Not only
do I feel like I am helping others, it also feeds my need for approval.
However, no matter how many people like a post, all I seem to notice is that
one person that is important to me that doesn’t like it. Why didn’t they like
it? Do they not like me anymore? Are they sick of me? And the person changes,
depending on the circumstance. To be clear, I don’t value quantity of likes and
comments. It’s all about the quality of the particular person or people I am looking
to reach or to give me that sense of worthiness. I don’t much care what the
collective thinks of me. But I care a little too much about what the people I
love, respect, and admire think of me.
So even today, I share this
story on social media. But I’m sharing it for a completely new reason. I’m
sharing one of my biggest vulnerabilities. The older I get, the more I feel the
need to connect with people on a deep level. I know there are so many others
out there that have the same challenges I do. I want them to know that it’s ok.
It’s ok if we are confused. It’s ok if we understand that we are worthy while
at the same time refusing to believe we ever can be. It’s ok that we are still
on a journey; that one day we soar with feelings of pride and accomplishment
and fulfillment…and the next day we cry all day and feel despair pulling us
down.
It doesn’t matter how many
awards I win or how many promotions I get. It doesn’t matter how much I weigh
or how much weight I lift. It doesn’t matter how many people like me or how
many likes I get on Facebook.
What matters most is that we
allow ourselves to feel. And we allow ourselves to be who we are. You are all
worthy. I am worthy. Every day we can make the choice to honor our word in
this. Or we can ignore it. And that’s ok. But the more we choose to honor our
own worth, the more it will become part of us. And one day, that will be both
the logic and the emotion.
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