There is a part of me that wants to lose weight. It feels like a really big part of me, but it's not. It feels like it might be all of me, but it's not. It's just one part of me. It just happens to be a part of me that has been in control for a very long time.
There are multiple parts of me, just like there are multiple parts of you. It's not all of me that is focused on weight loss, but it has certainly felt that way. I think that’s because this part of me has been running the show for decades.
This part of me is at the helm, and she has been getting exactly what she wants. Complete and total focus on losing weight, to the point where it feels like this desire has consumed my full identity. But, that's not true. It's not my identity. It's only one part of me. I have allowed this part to have full reign, unchecked, unbalanced, and she hasn't been very nice.
Always. I'm always losing weight. I have always been on some kind of diet, or some type of plan designed to help remove the extra pounds. I've been wanting to lose weight for so long, and that's exactly what I have been doing. My body gains weight so that I can lose it, because that’s what I want to do. My wish is coming true. My body, and my mind, have totally complied. They're giving this part of me exactly what it asked for.
There is no end result to this madness. I just keep wanting to lose weight, and that’s exactly what happens. There is no way to get off this merry go round because I never planned for an exit. I'm making it happen over and over and over again.
My impossible goal this year keeps it going. This part of me is so pleased. She is still in control. What happens when I recognize that this is just one of my many parts? This is just one piece of Amy. This is not my identity. This is not who I am. I have put so much time and attention to this part of me. She has had center stage, and she has given a wonderful performance. She deserves a standing ovation.
When I close my eyes and imagine this part of me, she looks so tired. She is wearing an old dress. It's dirty and worn. Her hair is a mess. She's running barefoot on a treadmill and she can't stop. She can't slow down. She doesn't know how to rest. She believes that she keeps everything moving, all parts working, but she is not the core. She is just a part, like all the other parts. She has just taken the floor.
This is the part of me who has been fed the bullshit and let it digest inside her. The one who believes that I must lose weight to be worthy of anything. She has been misguided. She is so wrong. This part of me has been confused, but the other parts can help set her straight.