As I prepare to fly to California, I find that I am feeling a whole lot of anxiety. To start with, I am not the greatest flier. My imagination, it turns out, when not doing good actually does evil.
I will be traveling alone with my youngest daughter. Not a super big deal. She's pretty easy going, but the plane doesn't actually leave until an hour and a half after her bed time.
I am anxious about my weight and eating habits when on vacation. (I know this sounds ridiculous, but I am feeling physically shaky about this whole thing. I should probably have asked to up my anxiety meds... oops!) I have concern because everyone knows that I have been dieting and changing my life style and eating habits. I have concern because I will be seeing my mother - and frankly, my weight has been her favorite cause to champion since I hit puberty.
I needn't be worried, I know. My imagination is overactive. I will order a glass of wine on the plane. Yaya will be a great traveling companion. My family has loved me fat, they will love me now, too. My children and my husband will be fine without me - the house may be a mess, but they will be fine.
As I've been thinking about my weight and all that is surrounded by that, my over active imagination has created this, just for you:
I was the High Priestess of Obesity.
I was a card carrying member of the Cult of Sloth and Gluttony.
I dutifully created tedious recipes of fat and random "edible chemicals" that I would mindlessly eat on my knees at the alter of broadcast TV.
Every day, every hour, every minute that I shunned exercise, I was showing my devotion to this cult.
I was brain washed.
I was mindless - a sheep standing in line to ingest the lies and promises of a multi-million dollar food business.
I made no choices on my own - I followed the smiling faces of fat, happy people over the cliff of health into the abyss of obessity.
Will I need a twelve step program to free myself from the clutches of this cult?
Will I be capable of relinquishing my banner and throne as High Priestess of Obestiy?
Will I need to find a new god to worship?
I don't know.
I am still tempted to return for Saturday Night Services. I know a few temples that I can enter, undetected. Where - for a few dollars and few years of self-confidence, I can eat again the forbidden false foods.
I am tempted, when faced with uncertainty, to don the thick, protective robes of The High Priestess of Obesity. It is a safe place to hide - from others expectations and from my own dreams.
I have turned away from the National Cult of Obesity.
I have turned away from it's lies and falsehoods.
I am walking and running and jumping with the lightness I feel after learning the truth that my very own body has shown me.
I will not hide. I will not worship at the all-night alter. I will be free of this fat suit that others see so I can find the clarity and honesty that I seek.