My big, fat, disgusting secret.

The reason I've been wanting a healthy relationship with food is because it is one of the most basic relationships. If I can't be healthy with food--with myself--how can I have healthy relationships with men? Doesn't seem very likely, does it? Of course, there may already be too much (irreparable?) damage done as a result of my unhealthy relationship with food. More to the point, I think my struggle(s) with food have been too well-documented by my body and such documentation is hard to erase. Ever heard the expression "Once it's on the Internet, you can never get it back"? I think the same is true for our bodies, in a sense; we can't undo the damage that's already there--it's permanent. This worries me a great deal because I think it's one of the biggest mental hurdles I've got to overcome.

Perhaps I'm "beating around the bush" too much... I guess what I'm saying all boils down to this... there are two scenarios I'm faced with:

1. Lose weight. Begin living a healthy lifestyle with nutritional foods and plenty of activities. Have a ton of excess skin, skin flab, and stretch-mark scars.
2. Stay fat. Live as I've been living, probably continue to gain weight, exercise if/when the mood strikes, continue to use food as my crutch. Have a giant stomach overhang, flabby arms, double-chin, stretchmarks (old and new), and zero flexibility to boot.

Catch the recurrence? The skin flab and stretchmarks? No matter what, I've got 'em. I'm stuck with a permanent reminder of my unhealthy weakness. I can almost, kind of, sort of, in a way, nearly deal with that, but what guy can?

My relationship with the opposite sex is screwy, at best, and I don't think "stretchmarks" will help it any. My relationship with guys can be broken up into two categories as well:

1. The very select guys who enjoy talking with me, getting to know me, and "get me" -- to some extent. These guys have zero interest in a relationship with me that stems beyond (pseudo-) friendship and they definitely have NO sexual interest in me.
2. The guys who --drunk, or possibly not-- would sleep with me. These guys want no part of a serious relationship with me, they do not want to get to know me (or have and don't like me over-much), and they really just want sex--with anyone--and they would be willing to "settle" for me: the closest available hole to drill.

Yeah. I'm obviously still a virgin because a) there aren't that many guys in groups 1 and 2. b) my standards are a tad high.

Everyone gives me flack for being an inexperienced 23-year-old virgin--especially because I'm such a horny one, LOL--but the truth is I would totally have sex with someone today if he were a good combination of 1 and 2. Someone who likes me, wants to get to know me, wants to have sex with me, and (crazily) thinks I'm attractive. ...but who is EVER going to find me attractive, particularly in the nude? It's here I refer back to "stretchmarks" and "flab." Mmm... oh, yeah, baby... so. damn. sexy.

Yep, I can already see my dream man holding his mouth shut and running to the bathroom. Score.

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Basically, to sum up, me in the nude is NOT a pretty picture -- regardless of my weight at time of said-nudity. The big "What if?" for me, because ultimately I DO want to lose the weight, is what if I lose all the weight to find out I'm still unattractive/unsexy and there's STILL no one who wants to be in a relationship with me? What if it's NOT the weight that has scared guys off -- what if it's just ME? Then what will I say? What will I use to "comfort" myself? I won't be able to say, "Well, I'm alone because I'm fat and people (GUYS) are just afraid to give me a chance, afraid to get to know the real me!" ...what then?

That would, I think, be the worst kind of revelation, the worst kind of rejection. How will I recover from that? 3000 to 1, I'd start eating myself sick to ease the loneliness, the hurt, the confusion. Eat my way back to the "me" I've grown so accustomed to sharing a disgusting body with for the past decade. I want so badly for it to not be like that...

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This post, this whole blog, was inspired by a PostSecret I found while stumbling around on the web one day. I sat at my computer and, upon seeing the "secret," felt like someone had shot my right between the eyes (or, to be more accurate, the middle of my heart). It is as much my horrible secret as it is the secret of the submitter, but I don't want it to be my secret anymore.

 

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"My hearts at a low, I'm so much to manage; I think you should know that I've been damaged."

[TLC; "Damaged"]