(this is a Thinking Out Loud post)
Every now and then I’ll see posts about people reaching their goal weight or just talking about reaching theirs, their journey, etc.
That’s great for those people. I am all for reaching your goal weight and celebrating it. Good for you!
But me? I will never reach my goal weight. And that’s okay, because my goal weight is dangerous.
My goal weight exists because of my eating disorder. My goal weight would put me dangerously under weight and jeopardize my health. I would have to lose about 30 pounds to get to my goal weight, and I’m already at a fairly low weight for my height.
It’s been a long time since I focused on my weight for my health goals. That was a huge part of my recovery; learning to let go of weight as a marker of health.
My goal weight got lower and lower as my eating disorder took over more and more of my life. It started as 105, then 100, then why not 90? Finally, 80 pounds. I got to 94 and then I was thrown into recovery. But that 80 is still up there in lights as my goal weight, sparkling, glowing, taunting me.
And it’s huge for me to be able to ignore that. But sometimes I think about how I’ll never have that reaching my goal weight moment and it makes me kind of sad. But then I remember that getting to that number would most likely involve me dying.
I’ll never reach my goal weight, and that’s okay. Because it’s just a number. It doesn’t mean anything about my health or my abilities. It just tells me how much gravity is affecting my mass on this planet.