Time to get brutally real and honest here.
This year, I started to get a little too stressed and obsessed with my body image. That's not to say that I haven't struggled with my body image before, but it got to an all-time-low recently.
It all started in the beginning of this school year when I said I wanted to eat healthier and exercise more often. It came from a positive mindset of wanting to watch I eat, because last school year, I wasn’t really eating very well (most of that was because I just wasn’t used to all the American flavors and also because meal swipes in the dining hall were extremely limited).
Over time, I really let the whole “eating healthy and exercising more” thing get to my head, especially towards the end of second semester. Which, unfortunately, was when COVID and quarantine hit. All those things I wanted to do were meant to keep me healthy, but it ended up being a very unhealthy thing for me to go through -- especially for my mental health.
Yes, I did gain weight throughout the school year because yes, I wasn’t eating the healthiest (even though I wanted to). But I knew that my gaining weight was also because I was actually getting comfortable in America and trying out new things (not to mention my love for cinnamon rolls has grown). And honestly, those are not bad things. I ate so much good food and had a blast with my friends over many meals.
But the more I saw the changes in my body, the more I let it affect my mood and the way that I saw and valued myself. I put myself down constantly, asking myself why I am the way I am and why I couldn't lose the weight as easily as others can. There were even times I felt guilty for eating—which is never a good sign.
But it only got worse during quarantine. I was left alone in an apartment (after getting kicked out of school—it’s a whole other story) for about 7 weeks. I had to cook for myself and do everything alone—obviously. My initial thoughts were, “This is great! I can cook and eat healthy foods for myself and work out and go run!”
It got to the point where I was literally working out for an hour or more every single day for those 7 weeks in isolation, and even more after I left that apartment and finally arrived home in Indonesia with my family.
I saw change, but I didn’t see that much change, or enough change for my liking. I got upset at myself, even almost hated myself for not being able to accomplish something after so much hard work. Sometimes I would look at myself in the mirror and feel like crying. It sucked and if I’m being honest with myself, it still sucks.
About a month ago, I began to see and realize that this was a major problem. I can’t keep putting myself down over something so… trivial (in the eternal perspective).
I told myself, “I’m healthy. I am lucky and blessed to have a perfectly functioning body that allows me to run and dance whenever I want to.”
But I needed something more to drive that message home.
A few weeks ago, I challenged myself to run every single day so that maybe I can finally see some results. Fun fact: I absolutely HATE running—I hate doing cardio and I hate anything that requires endurance—so I usually do HIIT workouts instead of cardio when I exercise. Or when I do run, it’s only for about 15 minutes max.
So with my mindset of losing weight and wanting to see results, I started running. I didn’t measure how much I ran, but after looking at the map, I ran for about 3 to almost 5 kilometers every single day. I know that’s not a lot for people who run on a normal basis, but for this girl, it’s a lot. And my body was not having it.
But I pushed myself. And, yeap, you guessed it, I pushed myself a little too far.
By day 4, my body felt like jell-o and it borderline hurt to run. But me being me, I decided to do a short workout with weights after my run that 4th day because I didn’t feel like the run alone was enough to bring results.
I ended up pulling a muscle in my hip and lower back area that day, and it was not fun to say the least. It hurt to walk and sit, and to pretty much do everything, even sleep. I was terrified.
But it finally made sense to me:
I am healthy—I have a perfectly functioning body—so why would I throw all of that away to live up to a standard that God doesn’t even place on me?
Yes, I’ve gained weight, but I am so much prouder of the person I am today than the girl who was 5 kilograms lighter half a year ago.
I have learned so much about myself and others, grown in character and maturity, and my relationship with God has honestly never been better—and I wouldn’t trade any of that for abs, a lifted booty, and a thigh gap.
I know that at the end of the day, who I am as a person and where my heart is at is so much more precious and valuable than the way that I physically look. My family loves me for who I am and they are proud of the woman I’ve become and will continue to become. My friends value our friendship because of what I bring into it—positivity, encouragement, loyalty, etc.
None of that depends on the way that I look.
And finally, God loves me simply because He does. His grace and love for me will never change even if the numbers on the scale are ever-changing.
And truth be told, a part of me is saying (or writing) all this to encourage and remind myself of these truths just as much as I hope this blog post will encourage and remind others.
This isn’t an easy journey and I am nowhere near the end. Even when I wasn’t this insecure and obsessed, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to look in the mirror and say, “Wow, she’s stunning. She’s beautiful.” Or at least been able to truly believe those things when I am able to say it.
There’s still a part of me that isn’t able to truly believe it, but I’m learning that it shouldn’t stop me from constantly saying kind things to myself every single day and reminding myself that I am loved no matter what. Some days are definitely easier than others, but what keeps me going in those difficult days is that these statements are not just claims—they are TRUTHS.
If I call myself a Christian and say that I am a follower of Christ, then I must believe everything my God and Savior says.
And do you know what He says about me? About YOU too?
He says I am LOVED (1 John 3:1)
He says I am FEARFULLY and WONDERFULLY made (Psalm 139:14)
He says I am His MASTERPIECE—a precious work of art (Ephesians 2:10)
He says my body is His TEMPLE—something that needs to be HONORED (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)
It struck me hard when I was reminded that I am God’s work of art.
And who am I to criticize His masterpiece? What God has made new and whole and clean and beautiful, who can say otherwise?
Definitely NOT ME. So I know I’ve got to stop hating on my body.
I know that the key to living the life that God wants me to live lies in truly believing everything He says: about Himself, about me, and about basically everything else in this world.
And if you really think about it, God created food. He created songs and sports. He created our limbs and our eyes and our ears. We were meant to enjoy this life—the food, the music, the exercise, the sports and games: everything. God never wanted us to torture ourselves with these things. They were created for us for a reason.
God wants us to enjoy life and have fun on this earth! If He didn’t, why would there be so many fun things here?
I know that I still have a long way to go, but I know that I can be free from this obsession and negativity. And I know that I already am. In God, I am freed of all of my chains. I can walk with my head held high because I know I am a child of God. I am a princess in His courts because I am a daughter of the King of all Kings. And NOTHING can ever change that.
I have an eternal assurance: a security that's set forever.
I can have confidence in Him because of all that He has done and finished at the cross. And what God has finished, no one can undo.
My back is almost healed now and I am beginning to get back into my workouts. However, I am committed to making this journey look different than it did. I know there is a healthy and Godly way to exercise and eat well.
I’m not going to let the body that stares back at me in the mirror to determine my mood for the day. I’m not going to feel guilty for feeding my body the nutrients it needs. I’m not going to be so obsessed with my body that I lose focus of what actually matters: the work that God is doing within me.
And finally, I’m not going to leave Indonesia without allowing myself to eat everything I want to. Because not only are there no (ZERO) Indonesian restaurants in Boston, but who can say no to roti bakar? ;)
Learning to love myself through some quarantine self-photoshoots.
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