Saturday, April 22, 2006
[Die, Pollen, Die!!!]
Achoo! 'Nuff said.
So I officially start my healthy eating regimen tomorrow. Eating right costs some serious money! I mean, in the end, I'm sure it's worth it, with a better quality of life. And it's not going to kill me to resist buying every interesting movie I see. I can afford it if I just make sure I buy other stuff that I need versus want. But, argh, seventy-five dollars today at WalMart? And I've still got to buy stuff like tomatoes, onions, asparagus, and spinach. I do honestly enjoy these foods better than the fattening crap, but unfortunately, the fattening crap costs about half as much. So you can understand the temptation, I'm sure. Still, I can do this.
This, somehow, brings me to another concern 'o' mine. Self-image. It's just a little something I notice, the difference between being at home and being here. Everytime I go home to visit my family, I come away feeling like I am and look like a fat cow. I feel like my clothes are ridiculous and come nowhere near fitting right, no matter what. Then I'm back at school, and I have friends whose language is encouragement. They tell me I look fine, enourage me to eat right, tell me I've got an eye for clothes and colors, etc. Then I go home, and my parents (because they care and want what's best for me, I know) tell me I'm gaining too much weight, my clothes make me look fat, Mom hates my haircolor (if it's blond, she wants it red again; if it's red, she wants me back to my natural blond), etc. I get put on a diet when I go home. It's frustrating, to be honest. I've got a pretty shaky self-esteem, especially considering I've only gotten to where I'm okay with how I look and such since I've been in college. It's an easy thing to destroy. I go home for three days, and it takes me about three weeks to retrain myself not to cringe every time I look in the mirror.
Writing this is not going to change anything. Talking to them probably won't make any impact either, for that matter. The only real purpose to this is just to get it off my chest. I need to remember that it's not about me or my appearance (no matter what certain loved ones may insist), but rather about what kind of light I am portraying. No matter what, I'm a part of the body of Christ; my light needs to be a pure light that reflects Him, not my skewed view of the world or myself. Yup.
Alright, my decongestant is seriously affecting my ability to form coherent sentences, so that's my cue to go crash for the night.