Last week I started an eight-week fitness transformation at the gym. I found out about it, filled out an application, got accepted, and the following Monday I was weighing in and getting my measurements taken. I’m not a stranger to the gym. I go every once in a while. Our apartment complex has a little gym in it but the majority of the time it’s filled with teenagers so I don’t go. I have a beautiful greenway across the street but, the weather has been so cold lately that I stay inside. I have workout videos and weights that I bought myself a few months ago but, when I get home I’m so tired I make dinner and veg out until bed. Are we seeing a pattern? Excuses. During my first class last week I had a fitness evaluation. I had filled out a packet and taken that with me answering a ton of questions as to why I wanted to change, and what helps motivate me. He then asked me one final question, one I wasn’t prepared for, and to be honest my answer didn’t surprise me, it was just that I had never said it out loud before.
As a child I remember growing up in the most loving home. I had two wonderful parents, crazy siblings, tons of friends and loved being adventurous. I knew my parents and my home was a safe place, and no matter what, my parents were there to protect me. We lived in a town house community during the majority of my childhood years, and since this was the 90’s, kids and teenagers alike were able to roam free until it was time to come home for dinner. I don’t remember the first time it happened, or even what I did afterwards, but I do remember a sudden shift in who I was. I was no longer Bethie, a little five year old who lived life to the fullest, but suddenly I became a victim of sexual abuse. It happened a few times and I was told to stay quiet because no one would ever believe me. I listened to that boy. My precious, innocent mind couldn’t begin to comprehend what happened and so I stayed quiet. For twelve years.
For twelve years I hid who I was. For twelve years I ate in secret, sneaking food up to my room and hiding the wrappers under my bed. For twelve years I rejected any type of change, refusing to stop sucking my thumb and grow up. I longed for my childhood to continue, so I could have a redo, that didn’t include him. For twelve years I didn’t trust any male that entered my life, fearing I might have to be alone with him one day. For twelve years I walked around angry, and bitter towards anyone who got in my way. For twelve years I was known for saying ‘I don’t like to be touched.’ For twelve years I was deeply depressed, wanting nothing to do with life. For twelve years I was known as the girl with the ‘pretty face’. Which is basically the worst compliment I’ve ever heard. Twelve years. I remember countless talks my parents had with me, expressing how much they loved me and if I continued to eat the way I was I was going to end up hurting myself. They took me to a few counselors, and I was put on numerous medicines. I was known for hiding the pills or flushing them down the toilet. I refused to be someone who, had to take medicine. I do remember one year in elementary school while on the medicine, I decided to stop eating all together. My hope was that I would lose weight and finally fit in with all my friends. That lasted for a year or two, and next thing I knew I was 14 years old and weighing over 200lbs.
In 2007 we moved down to Georgia where my life turned upside down. Like I mentioned earlier, I was someone who hated change, and the fact that my parents were uprooting me during high school made me loathe change even more. I remember the first day of school my sophomore year I ate in the bathroom, overweight and friendless hoping I would survive. It was during this same time that we started going to a church right down the road from us. This church ended up saving my life. Over the course of the next two years, my sophomore and junior year, I went from public school to my parents agreeing to let me be homeschooled. I worked at the church and even became a nanny for a couple boys. It was during my senior year of High School while deciding which college I was going to attend that the Lord spoke to me. I had been praying and praying about furthering my relationship with Him and taking it to deeper places when He gently told me we had things to work on. I was reminded of my childhood and taken back to the memories I had pushed down for so long. It took me six or seven months to get the courage to talk to my mom. I didn’t want to be a disappointment and I didn’t want to upset anyone. So, I picked a prime time, walked down stairs, told her, and left for work.
Soon after I told my parents they took me to see a counselor, a male counselor. At this point in my life I was so numb to any male I didn’t mind it at all. The Lord works in mysterious ways because having him as my counselor turned out to be a beautiful thing. I didn’t go that many times as I was ready to move past the hurt and pain that I had been carrying for so many years. We had a pretty intense pray-through session and in the midst of a tiny room in Roswell, Georgia, Jesus showed up, wrapped me in His arms and told me it wasn’t my fault. Thus, the healing process began.
I went to Kenya that September and had my world rocked. I learned about Identity in Christ and who I was as a daughter of the Most High. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. When I returned home, I was deeply depressed and couldn’t wait to be apart of something like that again and so I made it my mission to return. Before I left for Africa the second time I went to a couple different doctors to get checked out and make sure I was okay, physically. At this point I hadn’t lost any weight, but was working on internal healing. I went and saw an Endocrinologist as well as a Gynecologist. I found out that I had insulin resistance, hypothyroidism and polycystic ovarian syndrome. The one that made me stop dead in my tracks was being diagnosed with PCOS. I love children. Although my brain wasn’t focused on getting married and having children, I was worried when the doctor told me that if I didn’t lose weight, it might be next to impossible for me to conceive. 19 year old me, weighing a whopping 230lbs was crushed.
I started taking medicine which helped my body start to function properly for the first time. I was losing a bit of weight but unsure of what my next step was, as I was leaving for Africa in just a couple of months. During the next two trips overseas with the help of a clean diet and taking my medicine I was able to lose around 45lbs. Since returning home two years ago I’ve maintained over a 50lb weight loss. For me, the girl who ran to food for any form of comfort, this is a huge accomplishment. I have gained confidence in myself; I’ve met, fallen in love with, and married the man of my dreams. A man, who doesn’t care what I look like, but loves me for who I am on the inside. He also thinks I’m beautiful, so that’s a bonus.
So, now that I’ve given you a bit of a background as to why this is so important to me, I will fill you in on the question and answer part of my evaluation. I was asked “What do you think will stop you from completing this transformation?” and my answer was a simple “fear.” I’m scared. I’m scared of losing weight and allowing myself to be who I’m supposed to be. I’m scared of people, mainly men, looking at me and ‘undressing me’ with their eyes. I’m scared of what will happen when I get rid of all the layers I built up so I wouldn’t get hurt. It’s scary. Getting healthy, losing weight, it’s mental. I remind myself daily that Jesus won and I am His. I am His temple, His vessel and I am being used for His glory. I am no longer a victim, but a victor. I am not defined by my past and what was done to me, but I am defined by what He says about me. Fearfully and wonderfully made, I’m His beloved, I’m worthy, I’m cherished, I’m appointed and anointed. That is who I am.
As I continue this journey, one day at a time, I’m reminded that I am no longer a slave to fear, because I am a child of God.
I’ll make sure to keep you updated as the weeks go on, I’m almost finished with week two of eight and I already can tell my body is changing. Glory!
What do you think?