Who Or What Motivates You? I Say…Pt. III

Hi guys! This is the final installment of the “Who or What Motivates You” series, which kinda makes me sad! You guys have truly inspired me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing with me.

I told you I would give my own motivators… and it was a lot tougher to define them than I thought it would be. This may be the most personal I’ve ever gotten on my blog. I know a blog is meant to be somewhat of a window into its author’s life, but I always intended to keep the window cracked open, not pried open with a crow-bar like a free-for-all (or a voyeuristic perv’s dream). But alas, what was I thinking? To blog is to be honest. And sometimes, it’s easier to get to the gym and count your calories than actually face the truth. So here I go…

• The past.
  
• Little Annabel was confident (perhaps even brazenly so!). Always choosing, and reveling in, creative and out-of-the-box fashions. I liked to attach a grocery bag to Barbie and Ken like a parachute, throw them up into the sky and secretly be thrilled when they got trapped on roofs and trees. I was never afraid to stand up for my opinions even to those with supposed authority. Endlessly seeking an audience to perform for, I’d gladly break into song and dance without hesitation. I lost a lot of what I loved about who I was when I became this other girl
• The other past.
  
  At 280 pounds I would wake up with aches and pains. I pulled my back simply by getting up out of a chair and constant back pain plagued me. My feet hurt even when I was laying down. I suffered from amenorrhoea. I was unceasingly aware of my physicality as it was invariably uncomfortable. I went through life simply attempting to cope. I wrote off each day as if I had a check list that read “get through today.” I feigned excitement for events my friends looked forward to because even the most simple (and purportedly fun) activities were obstacles to overcome. Fun was riddled with logistics — will I fit into this chair? Will this hold my weight? Can we all fit into the car? Will I hold up? My life was such a paradoxical mix of isolation and public humiliation — isolated from everyone by my very private battle with overeating, but exposed for all the world to see as the consequences literally showed on the outside. That zest for life, that unquenchable zeal to sing and dance, stagnated, but never died. I silenced myself more than I would have wanted. I am motivated by her because I owe it to her to live every day cherishing the simple freedom that comes from being alleviated from the actual physical discomfort and pain I endured.
• The future. I am motivated by who I am becoming.  There is no picture to go here, but everyday I add a stroke to the self-portrait I’m painting and it’s looking like I’m one strong a** chick (with the budding biceps to prove it). Obviously, my past will always be intertwined in intricate ways with the present — it’s not like my weight on the scale dictates and defines who I am –  but I will not deny that my physicality certainly has a lot to do with the level in which my soul can flourish.
• My niece. I didn’t know I had a maternal instinct until she was born.  Seeing how impressionable she is, how curious the world is to her, how comfortable she is to just be, I am invigorated with a sense of responsibility to maintain my health so that I can focus outside of myself, on bettering the world for her and for any children I may some day have myself.

See part one of the “Who or What Motivates You” series here;  See part two here

<3,The Cranky One

Tags: motivation