When I think of my body, the best I can do is not think aesthetically but functionally. If I keep myself concerned with the things my body can do, I never have to worry if it is pretty or beautiful or good. The problem with this is that there are some things my body cannot do. There have been many things people have said about bodies like mine. There are so many more things I have said about my own body.

Running is one of those things that I don’t expect my body to do. All, I can focus on is excess flesh just moving and how grotesque a sight that is for onlookers. Gravity becoming the immortal enemy of my physicality. If I am still enough, then I can maneuver around slowly enough for things to stay in place. It is all one big optical illusion of Spanx and slimwear and clothing in a size too big. It is weird to see the thoughts, I have displayed on a screen, but this is the reality where I reside.

From Tuesday to Wednesday, I had a case of insomnia. It wasn’t even that my mind was running. I literally just could not sleep. At 3:30am, I decided to go to the gym. Most times, I just walk on a treadmill, but in delirium, I decided to run. I ran for 5 minutes straight. I remained on the treadmill for 35 minutes and upon completion, I had run/walked a little over 2 miles. I hoped this would tire me out, but it only invigorated me. I did squats got in my car and departed, for a 4am drive through the city. By the time I arrived at work, I was tired enough to hide behind my desk for a 20-minute nap…..but I didn’t.

Today, I took a half day. I went to the gym and consciously decided, I was going to run. I began running for 7 minutes. At the end of 32 minutes, I had run/walked a little over 2 miles. 16-minute miles are nothing to brag about. In comparison to even the average runner (maybe walker), I am slow. BUT my body ran. It ran and it felt wonderful and it hurt. It is unfamiliar and fascinating.

I don’t really have goals or expectations for my body. I have worked towards a lifestyle that serves my body best. I have made some progress. I am hoping I can remain consistent. Today was just a day, where I just finished running, breathless and sweaty and smiled.

“Damn, I got some body.”


Why is the Fat Chick Eating Salad?

When on Whole30, salads are by far one of the cheapest meals for me to make. Spinach, chicken, almonds, sugar snap peas, egg, and dressing. I can eat that for five days for the grand total $15, which is $3.00/day. As a single woman balancing living in Houston and going to seminary full-time maintaining a balanced budget is a tedious process. However, that process is even harder when you are on a moderately, restrictive diet. Yes, Whole 30 is my choice. The benefits of Whole 30 are astronomical for me. As someone with imbalanced hormones, diet is really 2/3rds of my battle….but back to the salad bit.

Salads are not my favorite, but they favor my pocket-book. All during last week salads were my lunch meal of choice. Most lunchtimes and dinnertimes, I spend in isolation, either sitting at my desk and working or just alone. Weirdly, this week, I found myself surrounded by people while eating. Each time, I broke out the salad, people would respond with a comment to this effect, “Look at you eating healthy. Are you trying to lose some weight?” It is a really harmless question. However, when asking it there are several assumptions being made.

(1) Any overweight or obese person eating a salad must be attempting to lose weight. This is wrong for a variety of reasons. There are a minority of people who just enjoy eating salad. There is a minority, in that minority, of people who are overweight who enjoy eating salad. Depending on how it is made, I like salad. My distaste for salad is based on the temperature of the food. I hate cold salad. I love room temperature ones. I also love a cold salad with a freshly cooked protein on the top. The only completely cold salads I love are Chick-fil-A ones.

(2) People also immediately assume that salads are inherently healthy. Ranch, people, ranch. In fact all the things that typically make salads delicious also make your pants tighter. So, there.

(3) That my weight and eating of this salad are something to be discussed or celebrated. No one celebrates with me when, I am eating Chick-fil-A (and they should).

So, yeah, basically don’t address my meals if I am eating a salad.

Also, know this post was completely satirical and I don’t really care, what you say about the food I eat.

Weighing In

I finished Whole30 yesterday. I capped it off with my favorite dessert: melon trifecta (watermelon, honeydew, and cantaloupe). Today, I simply attend work meetings and have the rest of the day to myself. When, I wake I will go to the gym, where I will be able to weigh myself….and I don’t know why, but that thought scares me.

Thanksgiving, after months of a poor girls diet, I stepped on the scale and weighed more than I ever had. Two hundred and sixty-five pounds. Instantly, I hated every pound of myself. I didn’t want to look at myself. I couldn’t find anything lovely about me. My face was hideous. My body horrendous. My esteem demolished. Every insult hurled at me about my looks resurfaced. Fat. Ugly. Cow. Behemoth. I clearly saw the faces of all the boys and girls who made me feel so small. I began believing that my weight was the reason no man was interested in me. No one wants to date a fat girl. I remember telling that to myself as a teenager. I told myself that yesterday.

I am scared to step on that scale, because I know that a massive part of me still places such deep value on that number. My beauty is in that number. My value is in that number. My hope is in that number. I don’t even know what that number is. There was no set amount of pound I desired to lose. All I know is that a number dictates so much of how I feel about myself and I hate it. I really do hate it. I hate that a decade past adolescence, I still have similar fears. I hate that I believe no one wants to date me because I’m fat and because I’m fat, I’m unattractive. I know this massive body positive movement going on, but even if I am positive about my body it does not mean I am perceived to be more attractive. Most of all, I despise that I work with teenage girls and still struggle with this. The young women, I serve, are so beautiful. It is easy to see their loveliness, but so hard to see my own…..

This is an area where I needs God’s grace. Because ultimately, I choose to surrender my worth. I choose to operate from a lie…even if feels true because of my empty relationship history.

God, silence all these voices. Silence me. Remind me my worth, that it was ordained before my birth and that is has nothing to do or say. When, I am slim or weigh 310 pound remind me that my worth is not assigned by man, but by God. You make me worthy.

Today, I step on a scale and pray all I see is a number.

This is Why I’m Fat

It was the first time, I had stepped on a scale in 7 months. The last thing I remembered was weighing 240 pounds. While, obese I was content. I was close to 200 pounds. I could drop 40 pounds pretty easy. 265 pounds. I couldn’t believe it. Then, I looked in the mirror and saw it. I saw every single pound of it. My flaws became so apparent. My skin looked aged and old. There were new stretch marks, I had never noticed before. The hairs on my chin overtook my face. My clothes became tighter. Hindsight allowed me to see all the outfits I had worn recently and how I looked like a balloon in the Macy’s Day Parade. I noticed my stomach bulging over my jeans. I suffocated. I feel helpless.

My cognitive weight loss plan oriented itself around these thoughts: “no wonder guys aren’t attracted to me”, “I am so huge”, “there is no way I can do missions being this size”, “I hate myself”. It’s so easy to begin disliking oneself. I pulled out a notebook and began scripting how I was going to lose this weight, do’s and don’ts, meal plans for the week, how much water I needed to drink, and a fitness regimen. I didn’t fall asleep until 2AM. Nonetheless, even with the best laid plans, I felt helpless. I feel like I am going to fail and continue getting fatter until one day, I surrender the idea of ever being seen as beautiful by men or women.

I woke up the next morning dead set on eating healthy. I wasn’t going to go for seconds. I was not going to eat carbohydrates. I am giving up soda. I will not east fast food. I am exercising. I am going to do this right. I will lose this weight. I failed today. I began today with a workout and ended it with a bunch of dumplings. Which makes me feel like even more of a loser.

However, I am learning not to trust so much in my strength and place a little less confidence in myself. I can’t lose weight of my own power and my own will. I am not strong enough for it. Food is a stronghold and an idol. I have never not known what it was like to be anything but fat. As a child I was fat. Teen fat. Adult fat. My weight has followed me so closely. Too closely. I eat not to feel full, but to simply feel something. As each word comes out, I recognize this food issue is more tied to a lack of trust in the Father to have my needs met.

I guess I need not start with a meal plan, but a prayer.

Verse of the Day


Too heavily do I lean on my own understanding. What do I even know O Lord? Have I fashioned this form? Have I orchestrated one molecule in my body? Nothing. No. And No. But rather than humbling myself to You and asking for guidance, I take it upon myself to fix a problem. I can fix nothing, for I am the one who destroys. Only You bring life, Jesus. Only You can restore what these human hands breaks. And Jesus, I am breaking myself. With each meal, I am attacking the vehicle You allow for my soul and spirit to be mobilized in. Father, forgive me. I am not worthy of Your grace. I am not worthy of Your mercy. I am not worthy of this body.

Lord, I cannot do this on my own. Countless times, I have tried and failed to lose weight. And with each failure, I deny that You fashioned me as beautiful. I doubt that You look down on me and call me good. I need Your Holy Spirit to quicken me. Please stir my desires toward loving You fully. Direct me towards worship Jesus. Lord, I don’t worship You enough. I don’t love You enough. I don’t acknowledge how vast and wonderful You are enough. As my spirit worships You, allow my body to fall in line and follow suit. I desire to be with You. I desire for You to be my everything. You are my Living Water and Daily Bread.

Holy Spirit grant me discernment on how to do this. I don’t want a weight loss plan. I want a lifestyle revolution. I want my body to be one, You are able to send anywhere at a moments notice. Make me more aware of when I am hungry. As I go through sugar withdrawals teach me self-control. I know what You think of me, but please remind me of Your thoughts towards me. Enrich my time with You. Father direct me towards a gym membership where I am encouraged by those around me. Teach me what to do and what classes to take and how to love my body and steward it as an act of worship to You. Lord, help me be faithful to carry this to completion.

God please raise up some people to walk with me through this and keep me accountable in this journey. Lord, thank you for the way You have already placed me with someone who is setting the pace before me.

God, I love You. This is not a blog, but a permanent prayer. You are magnificent and wondrous and marvelous. I can not tell you that enough. You have been so gracious to me. I am not worthy of the manner You have blessed my life. I am lowly and You are high and lifted up. You sit on Your rightful throne above and rule and reign over all creation. Whether we choose to acknowledge You or not. Yet You see and understand every single word I write. You know the weight and the depth of each letter. You know the inner workings of my heart so well. You know where my greatest need for You lies. You know my sorrow and my joys. You know my fears and my future. You know how I will look. The way You know me scares me. It is scary to be known so intimately by God. You know the mysteries that remain in me that haven’t even been revealed to me. To You be all glory and dominion. What am I that You are mindful of me? That You turn Your ear towards the laments of a wayward child. Lord, I love You.

Be with me tender sacred Spirit.


Body Hatred

I am fat, medically and socially speaking. A sensitive society will attempt to sooth the wound of the three lettered bullet (fat) with words such as: plush, curvy, voluptuous  or thick. However in this moment and all my other moments leading up to this post I am simply fat. Anyone who knows me well knows I fluctuate rapidly between fat acceptance and a general hatred of my size. I diet, ditch it, then try something else a month or two later. I know why my body functions the way it does. I know my attempts to lose weight are significantly harder than everyone else’s. Cognitively, I know all of these things. Yet, the reality of it all has settled on me lately. And what for years was the feeling of being curvy has morphed into feeling fat.

I think I am beginning to hate my body. The frightening thing about hating your body is once you hate your body, you might as well hate yourself…I should probably get counseling for this.

Fat and all the Weight that Comes with It

Fat is as much a mentality as it is a physique. One can be slim, but develop a mentality that they are morbidly obese. One can also be medically obese, but not consider themselves fat. For the most part find myself in the latter category. Doctor after doctor after doctor has told me that I am obese (like it is a surprise or something). When you are a size 16, you typically know already that you are not the skinniest girl. What these doctors don’t know however, that I am intentionally physically active. I am not talking about that accidental workout you get by labor. I am talking about 4.5 mile bike rides to and from the gym. I am talking about strict dieting. Well, I was.

Around the 9th of March, I lost my morale. After months of dieting and exercises and lifestyle changes, I gained weight, not even muscle, just weight. Does anyone know how disheartening this is? It is just a reminder that I control nothing. I can’t even control my body. April 1 to start again. I would like to be a size 14 by the beginning of June. I am attending a friend’s wedding and I just want to be down one dress size.

I never had a fat mentality. I always just saw myself as bigger. I wasn’t better or worse. I was just bigger. Some people have an hourglass shape; I have a day glass. Lately though with my most recent failure, I just feel fat. I feel like just eating whatever. If I didn’t enjoy bike riding so much, I would probably have stopped. I bike ride, but nowhere near four miles. I have given up on losing weight. At least for now.

April 1, I will start all over again. I am going to a doctor recommended by a friend. Even though it is my body, I don’t know everything about the human body. I feel like a doctor can give me more information or at least guide me in the right direction concerning my health. Then, I am going to do a cleanse. I have been brutal to my body in the past 22 years. I don’t think my body was meant to eat processed food (both healthy and unhealthy) so much. My system is getting a reboot. I don’t want to go down without a fight. I don’t think God wants me to go down like this. It just seems so hopeless.

God, heal my mind. This is about my body, but just break this fat mentality. Shatter this discouragement  Heal this hopelessness. I know where my body is not where I want it to be, but where do YOU want it to be? I don’t want to pursue a size or a shape; I want health. My life is so finite compared to infinity. My days are so limited. I don’t want to take numbers away from an unhealthy lifestyle. God this is not about beauty. I don’t care about external beauty. There is something You have place in my heart that shines brighter and farther that my dark spots, wrinkles, cellulite, and belly fat. God, I am beautiful, because You see me that way, because You created me that way. God, this is a matter of giving You the utmost glory with my health. God, You did not create a church to sit stuffed on pound cakes, pizza, and potlucks. Let Your church and let me rise in health, healing, and love. I don’t want to limit whatever plan You have for me by my health.

Lord, I don’t have the strength to do this alone. You know me. You know in times of sorrow or confusion I will turn to food. You know where my weaknesses and temptations lie. You know how many times I have failed. You know my body. You know what I need and don’t need. Help me to listen. Make me more attuned to hear. More so, help me turn to You in times of emotional need. My heart and emotions are prone to wander. Always, in Your great love and mercy, bring me back to You. Father, Your Word says (2 Corinthians 12:9),“Your grace is sufficient for me, for your power is made perfect in my weakness.” So the same way Paul boasted in his weakness, I boast in mine that only so that Your glory may be seen in my health.

Dad, even before I see a single ounce dropped, I just want to thank you for what You are currently doing and what You will do. Thank you for a successful doctors visit. Thank you for a fresh start. Thank you for it all. God, when people point to me. I will point to You. You did this. It was Your power, Your direction, and my simple and humble obedience. Thank you for all of it.

Gracias Dios. Yo oro todos este en el nombre poderoso de Cristo,