Limiting Beliefs and the Inner Critic

For more years than I can remember I have let my body shape and size dominate how I feel about myself. One of the things to come from that is that I have not allowed myself to do things that I would have liked to do for fear of people laughing, sneering and making rude comments about the fat girl/woman.  On the outside I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have guessed what was going on in my head, but the fight going on between my want to do something and my inner voice telling me not to put myself out there was a heavy one. The voice usually won. Where does the voice come from? My childhood.  

I have managed to quieten the voice at times, like the 50th birthday present I received to do the longest and fastest zip line in Europe in North Wales. Even though I had to be weighed and dress up like a tellytubby in the regulation red overalls, me and my family rode the wire that day and had a fabulous time. In fact it was so good we then went on the super-fast go-karts that use gravity to move them down a super-fast, super-fun track and my weight (and sheer stupidity) allowed me to just go for it and zoom home quicker than anyone else. It was amazing fun. To miss it would have been such a shame.

 Changing

I am writing this post on a Sunday evening having spent a lovely weekend in Devon with some old friends. Yesterday we arrived with them and, exercising another new way of being, when asked what we wanted to do I boldly said that I wanted to go to the beach. So we did. Not only did we go to the beach, the sun came out, it was a warm afternoon and we went in the sea! I haven’t swum in the sea in the UK for …. well so many years I can’t even remember. 10 at least. In fact the only place I have swum in the sea in this century is Egypt and that was like a warm bath. There have been times when I have stood and watch others go in, holding the towels and the clothes, assuring them that I was fine to hold the stuff, that I didn’t want to go in really and someone had to keep an eye on the dog. At the time I sort of believed it but later on when they were all saying how amazing it was I was secretly wishing I’d done it too. I was not going to miss out this time.

I had thought I might go in so in the car I had some swimwear and some towels. My oldest son was quite keen too but when we got to the beach we just got out of the car and walked, throwing the ball for the dog and having a lovely time in the afternoon sun. The sun on my bare shoulders was a real treat and I just breathed in the unmistakable sea air. I had shorts on so I was paddling and wishing silently to myself that I’d put my swimsuit on under my clothes. Darn it. Luckily my oldest son piped up that he wanted to go in and we managed to persuade my husband to go and move the car from where it was to nearer where we were and me and my son got changed. Excellent. I was ready first and he wanted some privacy so I put my clothes back on over my swimsuit and went back to join the others. Within seconds of reaching them I had my over clothes off and I was in. Just like that. No messing. It was a bit rough so just a few steps in and the waves were breaking on me so I was wet whether I wanted to be or not. It was a bit chilly but not heart-stopping cold! I jumped about a bit, bobbing over the incoming break waves and then I was in and swimming. Oh my goodness, it was amazing. I laughed out loud I was so pleased with myself and I was having a ball.

My son arrived and he hopped about from one foot to the other giving it “ahhh that’s cold” but then he was covered by a breaking wave and we were both in. The taste of salt on our lips, the breeze in our hair and full of the joy of being the sea. The actual sea. The vast, blue-green pool of freedom that reminds us we are but a small human being on this awe-inspiring planet. God I was glad to be alive that afternoon.

After a few minutes I noticed my younger son nearly up to his knees, with his trousers rolled up as far as they would go. I knew that look on his face. The “I really really want to go in but I don’t want to show any of my body” look. He takes after me more than his skinny dad and brother. Sorry love. I am going to do whatever I can to get him in and all it takes is him keeping his t-shirt on and changing into the spare pair of trunks that I had brought from the car “just in case” and he was in too. Like a baby whale and it’s mum, we jumped over waves, rolled about in the frothy shallows and played together. We were free. Oldest son had swum out deeper at this stage with our friend, too cool to mess about with his mum and younger brother. So all of us were happy in the sea that afternoon.

 Freedom

We were in for about 45 minutes, rollocking around in the waves. Even the dog joined us jumping the waves at the shore. As we headed back to the car to get back in our clothes, we giggled loudly, a warm glow of exhilaration keeping us warm and the smiles on the faces of people as we passed were a pleasure to return. I didn’t give two hoots what they thought of me in my swimsuit, I was bothered much more about the great time we had had and how I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. The sheer freedom of being at peace with myself, my body, and giving myself permission to have fun with my boys was a feeling I want to repeat again and again. Now I’ve really tasted that freedom, I want so much more. The work I have done to get me to this place of acceptance, self-love and courage has been well worth it.

July 2021