There is no before picture

I had a eureka moment this week while I was running the track at my gym. “I should take a before picture,” I thought. Then I stopped, and that part of me I’m trying to nurture right now, the one that stops to ponder a thought before acting, asked why I would want to do that. And in that moment, I realized I had no interest in documenting something that would serve as a reason to point out my inadequacies. Before/after, bad/good, big/small. Why would I take a picture of myself today solely as future evidence that I once weighed more?

I am smart, funny, passionate, brave, loving, a good friend, a supportive wife, and a mom who works hard and shows up for herself and others every day. My body is my home. I’ve lived here for 33 years. My weight is the least interesting thing about me. I’m not going to take a picture that will only serve as a way to criticize myself or marvel over how much I’ve “improved.”

Diet culture is loud this month. There are a lot of people who are hoping to line their pockets, using my insecurities as their vehicle. If deprivation, negative self-talk, and feeling controlled by food and exercise is my narrative, I’ll never truly be healthy. Right now today, I am already good, enough, acceptable, and worthy. I’m excited to watch my body change on the outside while I’m making slow and steady lasting changes on the inside.

If anything, my internal shift towards self love is what I’m interested in documenting. This picture of me today only exists to remind myself that I am more than enough today and forevermore.

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