Remembering the Hurt
Lets not forget or muddle the whole point of this story. I’m fighting so I can be a good mother to my son and a good wife to my husband. I’m fighting for my life so that it can be normal, and so that I can be me for me. I still wish for a better childhood, but we can’t live in the past.
I eat because I hurt.
I eat because to fill the void of love I never got.
I eat because growing up my grandmother shoved food down my throat even when I wasn’t hungry.
I eat because growing up I wasn’t allowed to leave the table unless I finished all of my food.
I eat because the pain of a full stomach was better than the empty feeling in my heart.
But now, I have to control those feelings and emotions. I have to control my life and the life of my child. I am doing everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t have to deal with those same hurts. I vowed I would never sacrifice his wellbeing for my own. 21.6 lbs down several more to go.