I came to this startling realization as part of recovering from an eating disorder. ‘My body isn’t really mine.’ I mean. I know I take care of it, but it’s not ‘mine to abuse, to starve, or beat up…’ It’s not just my possession, to do with it what I want, and that’s how I treated it. I had forgotten the truth of my identity.
That’s what I’m going to delve into today, while interspersing my ‘Tuesday’ eats plus a lot of the goodies I’ve been making for my family. I have literally been a BAKING machine, which is so fun.
That’s the biggest thing that I’m learning, still, after 7 years of struggling with worshipping this body, worshipping this idol, that my body was to me.
I was putting this idol before me like I owned it. I was a ‘bad owner.’ I was a really bad owner.