The Weight of Self-Worth

My fluctuating weight was never about my inability to exercise self-control, rather my inability to exercise self-compassion.

May 05, 2025

Disclaimer

If you find the topic of weight triggering, then please consider skipping this article. If you choose to read it, then may it offer you some comfort in your own health and healing journey. 💛

I grabbed a box of Oreos from the kitchen and jolted to the bathroom. Feelings of shame enveloped me; compulsion began brewing. I was desperate to soothe this all-consuming, gnawing pain.

I closed the door behind me and sat on the tile floor. Tearing into the package, I devoured Oreo after Oreo – in the dark – praying the incessant chewing would muffle my sobs. As I ate, it was as if each bite comforted me, whispering, “shhh… there there now.”

That was the moment hiding became my norm.

That was the moment food became my refuge, my pacifier.

That was the moment I learned that my self-worth was inextricably intertwined with the number on a scale.

I was just 9 years-old – reeling from the merciless humiliation I received around my weight and changing body. Not knowing how else to cope, I stuffed my feelings of abject despair with the one thing I could control: food.

And so began my 30 year weight battle.

Ups & Downs

My teens through my 30s were mired by utter self-loathing – everything from the way I looked to the way that I dressed.

I lost and gained weight more times than I can count – typically driven by some external event: an upcoming vacation, a friend’s wedding or my own. Each time I whittled my body down, I was showered with compliments.

But unbeknownst to many, I was waging a secret war within – beating my body into submission, white-knuckling my way through the diet du jour – at times starving myself or working out obsessively.

Despite my many slim downs, I always remained ashamed of how I looked because I still saw myself as overweight. My self-identity never caught up to the image in the mirror.

Keeping the weight off felt like a house of cards. Consumed by the fear of, "how much longer can I keep this up?,” I’d inevitably unravel and regain every last pound.

Much later I’d realize that – sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor that day, Oreos in hand – I unwittingly adopted the belief that it wasn’t safe to be seen because it leads to ridicule, shame, and judgement.

The truth is, I needed the weight – it kept me safe; it kept me hidden; it kept me small.

But most of all, it reinforced who I believed myself to be:

Fat and worthless.

There’s Something About 40

If I’ve learned anything about shame, it’s that we perpetuate it long after the original wounding.

For decades, I kept myself emotionally and psychologically captive from childhood.

The cruel comments I received back then became so deeply etched in my mind that I eventually mistook them as my own; as I grew older, my inner dialogue gave way to something far more vicious than anything I’d previously experienced. And the costs were mounting.

I wasn’t truly living; instead holding myself back from new connections, opportunities – everything I longed for – because I was trapped in a false narrative that I wasn’t enough.

But as 40 loomed, the weight of these beliefs, both emotional and physical, became unbearable. I was exhausted — tired of verbally mutilating myself, hiding from everyone and everything. Something had to give.

And for the first time, I heard the call to finally set it all down.

Sometimes the calls for change are loud; other times they’re whispers like mine were.

A few months shy of my 40th birthday, I got honest with myself, coming face-to-face with a simple choice:

Going into the second half of my life, do I want to remain my enemy — berating myself into my 80s and 90s — or am I finally willing to be my own ally?

The answer became abundantly clear: I chose to be my ally that day.

The doorway to healing cracked open.

Returning to Self

The Reclamation

Healing meant not only grieving what I experienced but how I coped. And that required going back to the very beginning.

I explored inner child work previously but it always felt uncomfortable; my younger self was like a familiar stranger and I intellectualized my feelings to the point of dissociating from them. But moving forward demanded that I feel the past (all of it).

In the supportive space of therapy, I revisited Little Sam, sitting beside her in the dark again and again. And I told her everything she needed to hear but didn’t.

The process was painful, messy — cathartic. She didn’t deserve the humiliation she endured; no child does.

Least of all, she didn’t deserve the disparaging self-talk I piled onto her, a little girl who was simply doing her best. It was then I understood that the compassion I longed for from others was the compassion I owed myself.

I couldn’t change the facts of what happened:

Yes, it’s true that I was shamed about my body (by others including myself).
Yes, it’s true that I used food to cope.

But as an adult, I no longer needed to perpetuate my fiction around it:

That I’m not good enough.
That I’m not worthy.

I decided I no longer wanted to be a prisoner of the past; it was time to tell my story on purpose, not by default.

Ready to write a new chapter, weekly therapy, books, meditation, and journaling, became my healing elixir.

Change didn’t happen overnight and I’d be lying if I said I was immune to negative thoughts. They still surface but when they do, I choose to stand beside myself instead of against myself.

The truth is, self-love is not a singular act. It is a moment-to-moment decision available to all of us every day – to choose ourselves over and over again – opting for self-love over self-loathing, self-possession over self-neglect.

Sure, spa days and pedicures can be part of the equation but it’s more about building a home within ourselves.

The Homecoming

"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." ~ Carl Rogers

Creating a home within meant more than self-acceptance—it meant embodying it through daily action:

Speaking to myself more kindly
Keeping my promises to myself
Embracing my own emotional vulnerability
Having my own back

By embracing who I was, I felt inspired to nourish my body and move it with care. For the first time, I focused on doing what felt good. Weight loss was never the goal—it was simply a byproduct of finally choosing myself.

Yes, the stretch marks are still there but rather than lament about what my body isn’t, I’ve learned to celebrate what it is: “the soul’s chance to be here” (Meggan Watterson).

Lessons Learned

What I know is this: Most of us are fighting a war within ourselves - seen or unseen, known or unknown.

More often than not, the voices in our heads aren’t even ours but others’ we adopt as our own, especially when we’re young.

So I ask you this:

Whose voice do you hear?
Is it lifting you up or tearing you down?
If it’s tearing you down, when did it start and are you ready to hear your own?

It takes courage to question what we accept as fact and examine the experiences that shape us; it’s the only way to begin changing the script.

Until then, old wounds remain tender because we experience replays of the past in the present: a remark that invalidates us, an action that stirs rejection. And each trigger pulls us back into a narrative we’ve yet to rewrite.

In those moments, we must remember that self-compassion is our only salve and we must be brave enough to let go of the beliefs that, while seemingly true, aren’t — and never were — ours.

As author Paulo Coelho wrote:

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”

That’s exactly what I try my best to do — unbecome everything I never was, so I could come home to who I’ve always been.

I’ve finally begun to emerge from the dark.

And I have never been happier to have me by my side.

💡NOTEWORTHY:
If you are in the midst of your own healing journey, I know it’s not easy. As you walk this path, I wanted to share some tools and resources that have helped me, which I hope will do the same for you.
In this Self-discovery Workbook (Canva log-in needed), you’ll find my top book recommendations, favorite journal prompts, and monthly ritual meant to help you reconnect with your truest self.
I created it with a lot of love and care, so I hope it brings you just the support you need. 💛