Emotional Detox

Well I haven’t done this in quite a while. A few days shy of 3 years to be exact.  I’ve been avoiding it if I’m completely honest.  I still don’t want to do it, but I’m choosing to be obedient because God told me to, and I’ve learned obedience is so much better than sacrifice. But when I’m honest, sometimes I just don’t be feeling like feeling, if you know what I mean.  I’ve actually been working on that lately...allowing myself to feel.  I used to think that if I started feeling I wouldn’t be able to stop and my whole day would consist of me sitting in a corner curled up crying or something.  I’m learning that if I create space to feel that the feelings will pass through me and I’ll feel so much better on the other side of it.  So...here goes with what brings me back to this space of writing and embracing another part of my truth. 

I’m gonna to go ahead and give you a heads up that if you are the grammar police you may want to exit now.  Cuz I need to get these thoughts out without worrying about speaking the good King’s English. Punctuations probably gonna be all over the place…run on sentences and abuse of the ellipse. Oh, and if I feel led to curse, I will.  Because that’s just where I am right now.  Just hear my heart and my thoughts and save your judgement...I honestly don’t want to hear it. And lastly...TRIGGER WARNING...I’m talking about my trauma, abuse, food issues.  Though I would love for you to read my truth, I completely understand if you can’t. And to my friends and loved ones…there’s no need to troll dude. He can’t hurt me anymore.

I’ve been doing a detox this month that I felt led to do because I have discovered I have a pretty toxic relationship with food.  That word is so overused these days but it’s true nonetheless.  When I was a little girl, I seldom ate.  We were poor, but not poor enough to get food stamps and too poor to buy what we wanted.  Most of our food came from our weekly visits to get commodities (that’s what we called it in New Orleans or at least in my home).  But basically we had government food (commodity cheese, peanut butter, canned chicken, powdered eggs, noodles, canned vegetables, etc.).  The containers had white labels with the most basic writing so we knew it wasn't a name brand.  On top of this, my mother struggled in the cooking department.  It was not her ministry AT ALL.  So there were many days that I just refused to eat.  If I couldn’t have a syrup sandwich or grilled cheese, I just opted for starvation.  This led to many a night getting my ass beat for not eating my food or sleeping at the table.  I actually didn’t mind sleeping at the table as it was the option that might preserve my butt meat from an extension cord.  It wasn’t until my Dad (check out this post where I describe who he is) came along when I was about 6 or so that I began to actually eat.  It was like living at a restaurant.  I went from not eating at all to wanting to eat it all because it finally tasted so good.  Not to mention you got to have a treat if you were a part of the “clean plate club”.  So here began my toxic relationship with food.  

I was never a super tiny girl.  Always had an hourglass figure (hips for days) and thighs and butt.  But I always had a bit of a stomach.  Never really thought too much about it, but noticed it.  It wasn’t until I left college and stopped dancing that I began to see my “womanly” figure start to take shape.  I went from 130 lbs to maybe 170 or so…(and now more than that).  Which mind you 170lbs for me was about a size 8-10 but in my mind I was getting fat.  Which leads me to understanding that I have suffered from body dysmorphia (more about that in a later post one day soon).  So anyway, I adjusted to my new body and learned to appreciate it for what it was.  Enter my ex...I’ve written before about the words he spoke to me on the very first day that we met. 

“Don’t worry I like big girls”

And frankly I’m pretty much over that.  He was a fool in so many more ways than one and a narcissist to his core.  What came up for me over this past week was how my upbringing had really laid the foundation for him to be able to erode every piece of self confidence I ever owned.  

Slight side note…(as I mentioned you’ll have to follow my spaghetti brain as I get all of this out). I felt led to go into my old email inbox this week in an attempt to make sure there is no incriminating evidence there that could be hacked and ruin my future life.  I thought it might have been some pictures or something. LOL.  Cuz bay-bay...20 something year old Kim was a MESS!! Luckily I didn’t find any pics of me (though they might still be floating out there somewhere) but I did find some pics that were sent to me.  I’ve thought about returning them to the sender cuz we’re still cool.  I wonder if he’d recognize his body from it’s much younger state.  Anyway...focus...so as I was looking through the emails I opened an email folder that held all of the messages that my ex had sent to me over the years.  I always knew I was supposed to do something with those messages like write a book or something so I put them all into one folder.  So I began to read through the messages and reflect back on that time, on that version of me that I have left far in my past. 

It’s honestly kind of embarrassing when I think about it...how desperate I was for unconditional love and acceptance but it’s where I was at the time.  I now know I had been conditioned to believe and feel that way from a small child.  But I still stare in disbelief about how bad it really was.  So in the spirit of transparency I’ve included one message thread below just for receipts sake, cuz people stay trying to discredit the truth. Know that these are some of the mildest messages but I want you to see who I used to be and what I’ve had to fight through.

But anyway, as I was reading the message threads apathetically, or so I thought, I was floored at how bad they really were. This ninja really used to put his hands on me and talk about how much I disgusted him.  Saying all sorts of fuck shit (this is my new favorite phrase) like I clearly didn’t love him because I wouldn’t honor his wishes to get in shape.  This is what I looked like at the time y’all.  But what I’ve come to realize is that it was never about me in the first place and always about him.  He was just a fucked up individual...plain and simple. 

But back to my upbringing.  So I was having a conversation with another friend this week and they talked about how they had made different choices for their child so they wouldn’t have to grow up wondering if they were loved by their parent and it struck a chord deep down in my soul.  I have been supremely obsessed with the concept of security my entire life.  Knowing that I am enough and that I will be good enough to “earn love.”  I didn’t realize this until my therapist pointed it out to me.  I had been living my entire life trying to earn love and do the right thing because love was always used as a token or prize to be given when I did something right and to be taken away when I did something that my mother didn’t like.  The silent treatment, physical abuse, and emotional abuse were the prices I had to pay if I didn’t make her happy.  So it put me into this mindset of trying to be good enough.  When I heard my friend talking about their child not having to question if they were loved I was like, damn...I questioned that shit every damn day.  It wasn’t safe for me to let my guard down.  It wasn’t safe for me to just KNOW that I would always be good enough.  I had to earn that shit. And it was all a LIE.  

So to my ex...when homeboy presented me with the vicious narcissistic cycle of earning love by losing weight and making better food choices I did it because I wanted to earn his love.  Not because I wanted or needed to be healthier.  When he criticized my body it felt “normal” because that’s what I received all the time at my home.  I was seeking his love and approval because I was never good enough to be loved by my mother. That has followed me to my present day.  I have love and abundance that has reached to the depth of my soul but I couldn’t rest in it because I didn’t feel safe in knowing that I was enough and wouldn’t fuck up that love by doing something, anything that could mess it up.  

This is kind of a new journey for me.  I’m not really sure what other twists and turns will come out of this.  But I know at the end of it will be a freedom that I’ve never experienced.  It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time.  But I’m committed to the journey.  I want to be free from every single thing that has robbed me of my peace.  I WILL be free from every single thing that has robbed me of my peace (working on my words because they have power).  I WILL experience fullness and wholeness.  I WILL be free to be me.  ME!!  Free to be the version of me that can own every truth without burden or shame.  I won’t stop until I get there and I hope you’ll join me on that journey. 

With Love, 

Kimberland