If you can't say something nice ...

I was looking through photos from 2008 to put up on my Bug & Ry-Guy blog and I came across a photo of me at my son's birthday party. It's a side-view shot, and I'm not sure what I'm doing or why someone even took the photo, but I look terrible in it. Hid. I. Ous. I'm so fat; I was completly aghast when I saw it.

Then came, of course, the running commentary in my head of meanness, of putting myself down and scolding myself and threatening myself and giving up on myself.

I'm a bully.

Seriously. I'm so mean to myself. If a friend told me she saw a photo of herself that was less than flattering (okay, even that statement is telling - when I refer to my imaginary friend's photo, I say "less than flattering." When I refer to my photo, I say "Hid. I. Ous."), would I barrage her with statements like, "Yeah, look how huge your butt is. Your boobs look like two swinging canteloupes shoved into your bra. And that shirt? What were you thinking? You probably thought you looked halfway decent, too."

If a friend or sister confided in me about having a bad eating day, would I scold her about how weak she is, about how pathetic she is? Would I demand that she stop eating sugar/flour/desserts/anything at all, immediately?

No. I would never talk to a friend or sister that way. I would find something positive about the photo, and remind her that the point of the photo isn't how she looks anyway, but about the fun party she worked so hard on and point out how happy her son looks. I would tell her the past is past, and if she messed up she can try to learn from it and resolve to do her best; that nobody's perfect, and her worth is not tied up into whether she ate too many calories or carbs in a day; that she is a nice person with many wonderful qualities that have nothing to do with the size of her butt.

I need to be a friend to myself. Because everything I just wrote regarding my imaginary friend or sister is true for me. So, why can't I tell myself those things? Why don't I think I deserve to be treated tenderly?

Because for years, YEARS, I tell you, my self-worth has depended on my size. Big and fat = don't deserve anything good. I remember a long time ago, seeing Oprah talk about winning a daytime Emmy award and how the only thing she could think of as she walked up to the stage to get the award was how fat she looked in her dress. She had accomplished SO much, was winning AN AWARD, but it was negated because she was overweight.

I totally get that.

It's very hard for me to hear a compliment. There's this automatic deflection in my brain, like a tennis racket hitting back a serve, that doesn't allow the compliment to sink in and be appreciated. Too many failures and perceived failures move in to take over like weeds, choking the life out of the compliment, so it withers, dies and is forgotten.

That has to stop. I'm valuable. I have good in me. And, yes, I have a big butt.

So what?