This is from a free writing session earlier this year. For me, free writing gives me a way to sit and just let the words flow. Sometimes I know what I’m going to write when I sit down, other times it unfolds as I type. I hesitated to share this on here as it’s quite personal but I am always striving to be real, true to myself, and be open to vulnerability in the hope that what I share might connect with someone else. I love you all, my journal readers!

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As she drew herself a bath, she gazed quietly at the rapidly flowing water, watching as it morphed into a bubbly brew. She slid into the now soapy tub and slowly leaned back, submerging her head until her ears were completely enveloped in water. She relished this. The way the water muted the realities of the world around her. She closed her eyes and relaxed into it, noting the weightlessness of it. Her heavy frame became less apparent, and suddenly she felt so separate from her body. …

Her eyes still closed, she began to peer inward, looking for that quiet soul meekly hiding within her. The funny thing about souls is you can’t really see them… not clearly at any rate. But they can certainly be felt. She’d done this before… many times and she was feeling for it now. Allowing the quiet to become deeper and silently sensing. …

She found it where she usually did. It was almost always in the same place… right around her heart. She slowly coaxed it upwards. She felt it moving towards her eyes and wondered if this is why you often see so much of person in their eyes. Maybe our souls like to linger here and peer out into the world. And when a person appears most beautiful, in their happiest, most joyful moments it’s because their soul is shining out through their eyes. And maybe that’s also why you see the light leave a person’s eyes when they die… because you’re seeing their soul actually leave the body.

But she wasn’t ready to stop there. She kept coaxing moving upward and upward until her soul was quietly hovering above her. “How odd it is to peer down at one’s self from above,” she thought. She looked down at the girl in the tub, and for the first time looked at her as though through a stranger’s eyes. Trying to glimpse what she might see if it were someone other than herself. How would she view this girl.

“She looks a little sad,” she thought though she didn’t know why she thought that. She certainly didn’t think she was sad. She got quiet. Forcing herself to be silent and calm, waiting to hear what truths her soul might whisper. … a low throb and then the question appeared in her mind… “Why can’t I change?”

She sighed and opened her eyes staring up at the blurry ceiling above her… she knew what this was about for it was a question constantly in the back of her mind. Her weight. The one thing she has struggled with for as long as she can remember. It had gotten away from her in recent years. It caused her discomfort emotionally and physically. For years she’d known what changes she should make. She’d say the words “I’m making big changes tomorrow” and then tomorrow would never come. But why? The same responses she’d uttered time and time again popped into her head.

“Dieting is hard and time consuming”
“It’s quicker to just order a pizza”
“I’ve earned this dessert”
“I don’t want to be the weird/difficult person who can’t eat certain foods.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience others with my dietary choices.”
“I’m afraid of becoming the calorie obsessed person I once was.”

Her inner dialogue was buzzing. She sank deeper into the water, closed her eyes and sought out the silence again, this time focusing on her breathing. Loving the way each inhale and exhale sounded while she was submerged. Low and deep and the way she could truly feel and hear it coming from within her. … In the calm that followed she asked again, …”Why?” … Silence… She waited patiently, keeping her mind clear this time and waiting for her soul to speak. And then quietly she heard “Because she knows not her own worth.”

She felt tears burning in her still closed eyes. Denial kicked in. “No she thought. I love myself. I know I’m a good person. The old me had self esteem issues. Not who I am now.” But where were these tears coming from? And before the question had fully crossed her mind – the answer appeared… “Because you know it’s true.”

Tear-filled, stinging eyes open now she stared at the ceiling and knew it was true. But still didn’t understand. She knew what she was worth… didn’t she?

“My husband loves me and I know my friends greatly value me. I have clients who love me and family who need me…” She stopped. Where was she in that equation? Every last one of her evaluations about her worth revolved around what others felt her worth was. She worked long hours and invested much of herself into her clients, knowing how much they valued the extra care. She was willing to drop everything to help family and friends. She was always placing the focus on others, eager and happy to help those around her and to help build them up. And she had long since known she would do anything to make her husband happy. But all of this involved what she did for other people and what value they placed on her, none of it included her own perceptions of herself.

“What am I worth?” she thought. “to myself? Do I value myself enough to take care of myself?” … Silence… for far too long this time. And then the tears began to flow again. And that was all the more answer she needed because she knew it meant no. No. She’d never valued herself enough to take care of herself. … ever.

When she was younger. Living at home or on her own. Starving was easy. She didn’t need food really. Just enough to stay alive. Deprivation was never a vanity thing. Although at times she’d hated herself because she’d thought that was exactly what it was. But no. For her, food was time consuming and wasteful. It detracted from more important things. So it fell by the wayside. Her appearance also greatly mattered to others in her life. So consuming as few calories as possible seemed like a perfect way to achieve the figure she knew they so desperately wanted her to have.

But now, as a wife to a man who loves food, her desire to please him has taken over. She wants to be that wife who always has a meal at the ready for her hardworking husband. Food has become the center now. It’s something she knows he enjoys and so she prioritizes it. He says he doesn’t care. He wants her to be happy. He’ll try new things. And she knows he means it. But her worth, even now, is still so low that she places his joy for food over her own health.

“But I don’t want to think about myself,” she thought, the tears creeping up again. Why was this so upsetting? It frustrated her that this bothered her so much. What was wrong with her? How was she supposed to move forward if she wasn’t willing to think about herself. She was realizing this wasn’t going to be as simple as just saying “I’m going to start taking care of myself.’

She sighed, closing her eyes again.”This is why I don’t take baths,” she thought.