Epiphany: the sudden realization
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A few days ago, my husband and I arrived in Atlantic City from our home in Colorado, anxiously awaiting and finally arriving for a few days of well-deserved vacation. It was too cold and windy outside to walk around much, so we decided to stay in the hotel room and postpone our sightseeing until the next day which was forecast to be sunny and warmer.
We were lounging on the bed, flipping through the channels on the TV. I had a belly full of spaghetti. I controlled the remote. Life was good. A few clicks into my channel surfing, I landed on a station that was broadcasting the story of a bed-bound woman who looked as though she weighed in the neighborhood of 700-900 pounds. Painful neighborhood.
I was hooked. I could not look away. I could not change the channel. I felt like a passenger in a car who unexpectedly drives up on a terrible accident; someone who can’t bear to look at the carnage, and who also can’t tear their curious stare away from it.
“You are obsessed with fat!” My husband observed.
True enough.
Starting in my early childhood, continuing all through school, throughout my entire adulthood, until this very moment . . . I am obsessed with fat. Yours, mine, ours. Always feeling ashamed of my body. Always fearing food and it’s magical power over the thinking part of me. Always burdened with the responsibility of needing to lose weight. Soon. This afternoon, if possible.
Until today. Now, I declare myself changed. I will do differently. I will be different.
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