Here’s a vulnerable peek inside my personal journey from self criticism to self acceptance – which led me to finally accept that I’m not beautiful like you – I’m beautiful like me.
Once upon a less enlightened time, back in the 1980’s, I was the poster child for the “diet culture” phenomenon. I was in my twenties, and my days were a blur of calorie counts, punitive gym routines, and stringent meal plans.
I was a size zero, a figure achieved not through genetics or a naturally fast metabolism. But through a relentless, self-imposed regime of restriction and over-exertion. As a result, I constantly found myself positioned on the precarious precipice of the next binge, the next breakdown, the next bout of self-castigation.
Ironically, if you had seen me in my twenties, you’d have thought I had it all together. Skinny as a rail and seemingly confident.
Meanwhile, back in those days, food was my constant frenemy and emotional eating was a secret shame, a hidden dance of two steps forward, one giant leap back into the fridge at midnight.
I was constantly tough on my body, tougher on my soul, and the harshest critic on the reflection in the mirror.
This self criticism wasn’t just a personal failing. It was a sign of a larger societal issue of the 1980’s, where self worth was particularly measured in pounds and perfection.
As a result, the gym was not a place of empowerment for me. It was my battleground, the place where I’d sweat out the sins of a chocolate bar devoured in desperation.
Back then, I thought I was being tough on myself for all the “right reasons.” Tough love, right? But no, it was more like tough self loathing.
I was the hamster on the wheel, running furiously but getting nowhere, powered by the misguided belief that self criticism was the key to self improvement.
I was chasing an ideal number on a scale – and happiness was always just another five pounds away.
But those five pounds were like a carrot on a stick—always dangling just out of reach.
Because the truth is…
You meet one goal, and it changes the target.
I was Sisyphus, and my boulder was a barbell.
Thankfully, eventually, as I became older, I began to understand the convoluted relationship between self hate and emotional eating.
You see…
It took a while – but eventually – I began to eat like I loved myself – and something magical happened.
Fast forward to the present 63 year old me, and you’ll find a very different woman today than 30 to 40 years ago.
And yes, I’m curvier now. My body has relaxed into itself, comfortable with its own geography, its own history. The very things I once waged war against—curves, lines, the softening of flesh— I’ve finally achieved a peace treaty with.
But finally I’ve thankfully since learned to nourish my body with foods that feel like love, and to engage in movement that brings joy.
And I have learned that every bite, every choice, is a chance to say, “I love you” to the person who needs to hear it the most—me.
As I learned to embrace this new way of living, the world seemed to embrace me back.
My relationships have deepened – and my career has taken off in unexpected and fulfilling directions.
So here’s to being 63, and to being more “me” than I’ve ever been.
I’m not the size zero I once was, and thank heavens for that. Because in all honesty, I was a zero in more ways than one – with zero inner peace and zero self-love.
And now? I am profoundly happier. I’ve come to understand that beauty is not a universal standard to achieve – but a personal story to embrace. It’s about being authentic, being original, being me.
This journey of self-acceptance has been a quiet revolution, a peaceful overthrowing of a lifetime of learned self-doubt.
At this point I know:
And in that truth, I’ve found a freedom no scale can measure, no mirror can reflect.
This is a statement that’s taken decades to fully appreciate.
It’s not just a mantra. It’s a manifesto. A declaration that the mirror no longer holds power over me.
These days I no longer strive for the unattainable perfection of a photoshopped model. Instead, I strive for the attainable peace of a woman who knows her self worth, who knows that her value is not dictated by the numbers on a scale.
If you are presently caught up in this battle of self criticism versus self-acceptance – I encourage you to start talking to yourself with more self love.
And know that in time this self love will begin to ripple outwards… to a better life.
So, here’s to the journey of self-acceptance… and to embracing your new mantra…
Tackling unhealthy food habits requires awareness, understanding, and the right coping strategies for emotional eating. Remember, every journey starts with a single step. And then each step you take brings you closer to a healthier relationship with food – and yourself.
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