Skinny Girl

I peered through my bedroom window. Morning sunlight shone through the gum trees in golden shafts.  Sheets billowed in the breeze as Mum wrestled them into position on the line. A tall mound of wet washing sat in the basket in front of her.

She’d be out there for a while.

Here was my opportunity.

Heart pounding and muscles tense, I crept down the hall, slowing my steps outside my parents’ bedroom. The bathroom scales were in there – waiting for me.

Tiptoeing into the room, I dragged them out and stepped on to the platform, my breath held tight.

What would they tell me this time?

Every day it was the same. Measure, eat, count calories, exercise, re-measure. This routine had ruled my life for months now.

I’d never meant for it to be this way. My strict diet and exercise plan was supposed to be a fleeting thing – a quick snatch at the slender days of my teens…when men said I was beautiful. It was supposed to transform me from the girl I loathed – unwanted and lonely – to someone attractive. Someone worthy of love.

Months before, my world had changed suddenly. The departure of a loved one had set me reeling, flailing about like a tiny boat tossed in stormy seas. This rigid plan provided an anchor point – a solid structure I could cling to. It was supposed to rescue me – to sculpt my outside and somehow fill up the holes at my core. Instead it became my obsession – my first thought in the morning, my last whisper at night and every heartbeat in between.

Little by little, I shrivelled under its demands. The faith and passion of earlier years ran dry as losing weight became my sole focus. All that mattered now was the numbers – the calories I ate, the distance I walked, the weight on the scales.

joggers-weights

scales-44-9

When the numbers were good, relief came – though only for a little while. Happiness was a fleeting visitor. Whatever fragment I shaved off my frame, it was never enough. There was always further to go – more weight to lose, more flaws to fix.

I thought attaining my ideal size would give me confidence. But when I reached that point, my deepest fears were realised. I still felt the same – empty and unlovable.

My appearance wasn’t the problem.

I was.

I was the flawed one, ugly inside, smeared with failure and shame. No diet, however strict, could erase the grime of my past.

Still, I tried. Maybe if I pushed further, tried harder, then I’d feel better.

my-face-21st

My body began to protest but I ignored its cries. Fluttering heart, skin turning yellow, strength declining – what were they but whining complaints from one already rejected?

What would it matter – really – if my tormented life came to an end?

Friends and acquaintances frowned and tut-tutted, sending me scurrying like a cornered mouse. They didn’t understand – had no idea what I felt. Fearful and angry, I retreated into my own narrow world – a tunnel with room only for me.

The way ahead was dim and my eyes strained to see. Where was the light?

Didn’t tunnels always have light at the end?

Reality crashed down on me like a heavy weight. There was no light, no way out. I’d built this world around myself and now I was trapped inside it.

————————————————————————–

Life became a sombre march, one foot plodding in front of the other. Every day was the same routine, a desperate cycle of striving that only took me deeper, lower.

Through the blackness, a clear voice beckoned. You need to give this up.

My Father God – the one I’d hidden from – was speaking to me.

His words were soft, yet urgent. Give it up. Turn around. Let go.

He was right, I knew. This tunnel led to death, as sure as the darkness.

But He was asking the impossible. I couldn’t let go. Not ever.

If I did, I’d drown.

————————————————————————–

Friends were watching, talking, praying. Urged on from above, one group approached me. “You can’t stay in there. It’s dark. And dangerous.”

Angered by their comments and terrified of judgement, I withdrew further.

They followed me.

“We want to help you. Please. This isn’t who you are. Take our hand. We’ll walk with you out of this – for as long as it takes.”

Cracks rippled across my determined facade and a tiny light began to glimmer, drawing me towards it. These women stretched their arms wide, embracing me just as I was. Slowly, gently they helped me pull down the walls I’d built around myself. Professional help was arranged and paid for. When fear tried to overwhelm, they offered peace and held me steady. All the while they enveloped me in prayer.

Their kindness gave me courage to face my inner turmoil.

————————————————————————–

Slowly, gently, I was led through the process of healing. The lies which had entangled my heart were removed, strand by strand, and replaced with life-giving truth.

My worth wasn’t in my size.

Nor was it in the attention of males.

I had worth simply because I’d been created. I didn’t need to fit an image or achieve great things to be loved. I already was loved, cherished by the One who’d formed me as a unique reflection of Himself. He was the source of my value.

Pure, heavenly light shone on my greatest wounds and deepest shame – exposing infection and offering forgiveness. God’s abundant love poured over me like a waterfall, washing me clean, filling up all my empty places. This love was pure and perfect, strong enough to set me free from my past and launch me into a future full of promise.

Where despair had dwelt expectancy began to bloom. I turned my back on the tunnel’s ruins as one year came to a close and a fresh new season unfurled. The path stretching out before me was bathed in warm sunlight.

I launched out, my hand firmly grasped by my Father.

With Him beside me, I knew everything would be alright.

And it was.

 

“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” Psalm 40:2

“(Jesus said,) ‘Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.’” John 8:32

 

A note to my readers:

Do you relate to my story? If you’re struggling as I did, please consider talking about it with a person you trust. Letting someone in was my first step towards recovery – so terrifying but so worth it.

You may find professional help is needed. Psychologists and counsellors have the experience to help you deal with the issues behind your struggle. Getting help is not a sign of failure. It’s a proactive step towards freedom and a better life.

Can I also encourage you to get to know God, your Maker? He is the One who knows you better than anyone. There’s not a moment of your life when He hasn’t loved you. All His plans for you, even through the hardest of times, are good. Below are a few verses you may like to read.

Matthew 11:28

Psalm 139:13-14a

Zephaniah 3:17

Jeremiah 29:11,13-14a

Isaiah 1:18

John 8:36

The process of healing can be both painful and exciting. Beyond it is a life too good to miss.

8 thoughts on “Skinny Girl

  1. Words of such despair and lostness, turned around to hope, love, and a future.
    The telling is the reaching out and the showing that the path to completeness is just a step away from where you now stand.
    The evidence is clear in your life, of the Father who longs and waits for the homecoming of His beloved.
    The story maybe different, the circumstances more or less drastic, nevertheless the welcoming arms that are outstretched beckoning us to move forward into absolute love and protection never change.

    Wonderfully expressed Sue, however it’s not the perfectness of the prose, it the perfect work of the Father that’s comes through so loudly.
    You have captured the fullness of the love of God and His people to bring about eternal change, a miracle at the hands of an all powerful gentle Father.
    Love you and your encouraging ways.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you Sue. I truly resonated with your journey and felt the same angst around the “ideal” weight, dress size, to be attractive while growing up. And for most of my life The obsession was soul destroying I just didn’t realize it then. I was breaking our Fathers heart.

    Reading your words brought even more revelation- some I could never put words to why.

    What I also loved about your journey was the hope woven through to show not just the individual within the depths of the obsession but those around, to not give up. Go deeper with them all the time anchored on the rock through prayer. Speaking into someone means you need to walk beside them through the mud and slime and with the strength of our Father through gaining professional help and genuine friendship there is light in the tunnel.

    Thank you again Sue. Blessings

    Like

  3. Such a beautiful story of God’s unending grace. Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing your journey, may you be blessed in it as others are touched by your honesty.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Your humility which is shown through your willingness to be vulnerable and share your personal story will bring hope and healing to many .
    I know the Lord will use your testimony to help others overcome self rejection,self hatred, control, perfectionism,feelings of insecurity and inadequacy.
    Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. One thought on “ Skinny Girl ” * Sandra Stent NOVEMBER 25, 2016 AT 8:20 PM Words of such despair and lostness, turned around to hope, love, and a future. The telling is the reaching out and the showing that the path to completeness is just a step away from where you now stand. The evidence is clear in your life, of the Father who longs and waits for the homecoming of His beloved. The story maybe different, the circumstances more or less drastic, nevertheless the welcoming arms that are outstretched beckoning us to move forward into absolute love and protection never change. Wonderfully expressed Sue, however it’s not the perfectness of the prose, it the perfect work of the Father that’s comes through so loudly. You have captured the fullness of the love of God and His people to bring about eternal change, a miracle at the hands of an all powerful gentle Father. Love you and your encouraging ways.

    Sent from myMail for iOS

    Friday, 25 November 2016, 9:48 pm +1100 from The Resting Post : >Susan Brown posted: “I peered through my bedroom window. Morning sunlight shone through the gum trees in golden shafts.  Sheets billowed in the breeze as Mum wrestled them into position on the line. A tall mound of wet washing sat in the basket in front of her.

    She’d be out ” >

    Like

  6. Thank you so much, Sandra. The further I move on from that time, the more I marvel at His goodness to me.
    Love walking the journey with you, beautiful woman. Thanks for your constant encouragement, wisdom and care.
    Love you xx

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s