Who Are You?

This post has been brewing for a while. It’s been bobbing in and out of my head for some time and I would shove it away, feeling too vulnerable to write it, let alone post it. 

I am a people pleaser. I care what others think about me. And try as I might to push that aside, to not care, those thoughts sit in the front of my mind. 

When I was younger, I wanted to please my parents and my teachers. Every good grade I earned was another reassurance, in my head, that my parents would love me. Every not so good grade was, in my head, a disappointment to my teachers. 

Over the years, I don’t know how gaining weight tied into my identity, but it did. I think it had something to do with the way I felt like I could never live up to anyone else’s standards, so I started building a wall, a wall of fat, around myself. I fed my emotions. I fed my feelings about myself. I fed my stress and anxiety and depression. I fed the worry and heartache. It became a point where I didn’t have any idea who I was anymore. I would look in the mirror and it would be my beautiful, blue eyes but wrapped in a face I didn’t recognize. Who was I? Who had I become? What was my identity?

My identity was always wrapped up in what I happened to be experiencing at the time. I was an honor student. A volleyball player. A graduate. An assault victim. A pre-med student. A Master’s degree recipient. A speech therapist. A wife. A mom. A widow. But my identity was also always what I looked like. I was fat. I was buried in layers and layers of fat. That’s who I was and when I was that person I was safe and secure and in a bubble of blubber. If people didn’t like me, it was because I was fat. No other reason. I could blame my rotund figure for not being accepted or enough or loved. 

So fast forward to today. I am struggling. I am losing weight and in the best shape of my life and I am afraid. My identity has always been as a fat person. Who am I? I am Tammy Duncan, obese woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still here. I’m still fat. Still obese. But I’m the thinnest I have ever been in my adult life. 217.8 was what the scale said this past Saturday on my weigh in day. I have never weighed this in all of my adult life. I don’t know when I last weighed this, but it was before I was a sophomore in high school when I weighed in at 240 pounds. Still obese at 217.8 and 5’9 inches tall. But I am slowly losing my identity as the number falls lower. And it is terrifying to me.

I blamed 220. Blamed my assault. Blamed my husband killing himself. But I surpassed that weight and my heart is still terrified. I have crept down 0.4 pounds a week for a few weeks, slamming on the weight loss brakes, unsure of who I am anymore. In a time where I should be rejoicing. In a time when I’m hearing from people that I look great.  I’m scared because I am becoming not fat. I am losing the thing that has protected me for a long time. I am becoming someone I don’t recognize in the mirror anymore. My identity is slowly shrinking away. 

And the what ifs flood into my head. What if I find out it wasn’t the fat that kept people from liking me? What if I can’t maintain this and I just end up where I started? What if I find out that I don’t like myself at any weight? What if...

Losing weight is a lot of head work. I often find myself doing things I never thought I would do: trying new healthy foods, running instead of eating, making better choices throughout my day. I often smile and think, “Who is this?” And then the “real Tammy” comes out and I snap and binge eat two Big Macs and a large fry without even thinking. It’s a daily struggle. As is the struggle of figuring out who I am really. 

But if I stop and think and pray, I know my true identity. It doesn’t matter what my friends think or what my family thinks or what strangers think. It doesn’t even matter what I think. My identity is in Jesus Christ! John 1:12 says, “ But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name.” I am His. My identity is in Him. I am His child and that is all that matters. I don’t have to please Him or make Him happy or do everything perfectly. He loves me so much that He gave His one and only Son. My identity is as His precious child, His princess, His chosen daughter. And that is all the reassurance that I need. 

Who am I? I am a beautiful work in progress. I am working on me mind, body, and soul, and all I need to know is that He is my Father, He loves me, and I am His creation. So I keep walking the path He has for me, knowing that He has me in His loving arms always. 

I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to be fat or skinny. I don’t have to work so hard. I just have to be me, love Him, and trust in His path and His plan. Who am I? I am His!