The pursuit of perfection is pushing a boulder up a hillIt took me 8 months to shed 4 pounds and reach my goal weight of 132.6 for my July wedding. It took a determined degree of discipline. I didn’t go to extremes, mind you, because I will still maintain that I didn’t diet per se.—I just kept an even more keen eye on my moderate eating and exercise plan.

Yet, on the best day of my life, I still felt just the teeniest bit on the hefty side. I still had cellulite. And I still wasn’t in love with what I saw in the mirror.

I was clearly at a “healthier” weight—at least according to the charts. But I also had noticeably diminished energy. And I thought I could still stand to lose a few more pounds. Darned if I do, darned if I don’t.

By fixating on a perfect weight, I created the perfect hell for myself.

In Geneen Roth’s incredibly insightful book, Women Food and God, she writes that hell is “wanting life to be different from what it is.” Disregarding reality. Checking out of my own life. (By focusing so maddeningly on just this one aspect of my life—a fluky external measurement—I am choosing to miss experiencing the abundance in the rest of my life).

I’m living in a sick fantasy world of my own making because I refuse to see that what I think I want is unattainable. I buck the belief that it’s crazy. I dismiss the thought that my body knows best and 129 is an honest threat to my health. I mean, I haven’t even been able to maintain my wedding weight, let alone slim down further.

Next post: The Pursuit of a Healthy Weight (Heaven, Part 1)