June 1st marked the third anniversary of my mom's death. She died at the age of 61 from alcoholic liver failure. She was only 17 years older than me.
I've been really struggling this past month, not with weight loss, but with some issues I'm beginning to realize played a huge role in who I am today.
There is a part of me that misses mom like crazy. I would be so thankful to be able to talk with her again. There's a part of me that is very angry with her for dying, for allowing alcohol to take her away from all of us way too soon! She's missed all three of my children's weddings. And she would've loved having great grandchildren - babies and little children were such a blessing in her life. Deep in my heart I know that alcoholism is a horrible disease and that once she was hooked she just wasn't strong enough to stop. But it still hurts to think about all she's missing.
But there is also a part of me, I'm ashamed to admit, that is glad she's not here anymore. For so many reasons. She was so hateful at times when she was drunk. I don't miss that. I don't miss the fact that she played my two younger sisters and I against each other. I don't miss that she'd call me while she was drunk and say hurtful things. I don't miss the embarrassment of having her show up at my daughters highschool basketball games drunk.
Above all I don't miss how she turned weight loss into a competition between the two of us.
Some of my earliest weight related memories begin when I was a 4th or 5th grader. We were shopping for school clothes and after trying on what seemed like hundreds of different jeans and tops and none of it fitting right (they didn't make "chubby sized" clothes back then) she said to me " Well, I guess Grandma will have to sew all your clothes, you're just too fat!" As 7th grade rolled around and I hit puberty I began to slim down. I was actually able to wear mom clothes and for a while (a very short while) it was kinda fun! Then came high school. I made the cheerleading squad as a freshman and again as a Sophomore. I also played basketball. By the end of my freshman year I'd gained a bit of weight again and Mom commented to me one day, "You know you'd do a lot better if you lost about 20 pounds" and she told me that she needed to lose some weight too so we'd lose together. Thus began our competition and it lasted for the next 20 plus years. Any time I would decide to try to lose weight it wasn't long before she was on a "diet" too! She'd call me weekly to ask how I was doing and share her weight loss success with me. It got to the point where I didn't want her to know I was trying because I didn't want to compete with her anymore. And after awhile I think my weight became my protection, my identity. It made me different from her and sad as it seems I didn't want to change that. I thought it gave me control, how wrong I was! How sad is it that I felt I needed to wrap myself in layers of fat to shield my heart from being hurt anymore? How wrong, a mother making her child feel like she needed to be thin to be accepted, loved and valued?
And the saddest part is I don't think my mom ever meant to hurt me. I believe she honestly thought she was helping me. I know that she also dealt with issues of abandonment and inadequacy in her life. She was born in Germany in a home for unwed mothers and given up by her birth mother, abused by foster parents, and at the age of six flown across the ocean for adoption in America. She also struggled to find feelings of acceptance and worthiness. And I have to believe that in her own way (as warped and hurtful as it was) she felt she was saving me from being teased and hurt by others. But oh the wounds she caused!
Where do I go from here? Since I started this program I've said all along that, for me, this is a lifestyle change journey. And in order to change my lifestyle I need to look at the things in my life that brought me to where I am. I need to open these wounds up, clean them out and then let them heal! So that's exactly what I'm doing. Writing this was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It's not easy to dig down deep inside, open yourself up and make yourself vulnerable. But I am strong. I will do this. The sense of peace I'm feeling right now is sooo much better than the hurt that's been festering inside me for far too long! I will continue this journey and I WILL succeed!