Unanswered Questions

I was asked to share my thoughts today in church during an Elder’s Quorum lesson about “where our choices lead.” At first, I didn’t know what to say. This is actually a very difficult question to answer for someone like me. As a gay and active member of the Church, I am constantly considering this question because I am straddling two paths – both of which would lead me to very different destinations. If I were to embrace a completely homosexual lifestyle, I would give up many of the blessings I enjoy by being an active member of the church. On the other hand, by embracing the standards of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I miss out on the possibility of a romantic/intimate companionship that all human beings need. I can’t have both.

But this post isn’t about the conflict I feel, living between two worlds. This post is not about justice, equality, or fairness – religious or otherwise. This post isn’t even about me asking “why.” I could delve into a myriad of questions I’ve had over the course of my life, not the least of which is, why have I been burdened with being gay in a hetero-family-oriented church? No, this post isn’t about all of that. This post is about living with unanswered questions.

I won’t go into detail about what I shared with the brothers in the Elders’ Quorum lesson today, mostly because I’m pretty sure I was bawling like a baby through all of it, even though it only lasted about 5 minutes. But, I do want to share one thing I said, which is the foundation of what I want to share in this post. Regarding my circumstances, as stated above, I shared this, “The Lord knows me. He knows this is hard for me. But I know there is a reason to have faith; even if I don’t know the reason yet – I know there is one.”

Essentially, I am choosing to live a faith-centered, abstinent lifestyle, without really knowing why. I have no proof that my faith will be rewarded. I have no proof that I’m making the right choice. But I am making that choice. I am choosing to abstain from a fully gay lifestyle, in order to remain a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in good standing. (I know many people in my situation have opted to leave the church and I fully support them in their decision – we all have a different path and we all deserve to be loved and accepted for who we are regardless of the path we choose.)

I guess that’s what I think faith is – moving forward when we don’t yet have all the answers. Which is, as I’ve come to realize, unbelievably ironic for me. You see, I seem to have a great deal of faith when it comes to religious/spiritual matters. But I have recently come to know that I don’t seem to have much faith anywhere else in my life.

When I look in the mirror, I hate what I see. When I look in the mirror, I see how fat I am and I hate it. I hate how it looks, I hate how it feels and I hate the burden that it creates in my life on every level – physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. I hate that I can’t physically do things I want to do; I hate that I can’t wear clothes I want to wear; I hate how self-conscious I am and every time I go out in public, I worry that people are going to laugh at me, make fun of me, or look down on me. I worry that they will think about me the way I think about myself – weak, lazy, ugly, and stupid.

I have been on a multi-year journey to fix this – to lose weight, to feel better about myself and my life. I’ve had some successes, but many, many failures and every failure gets harder and harder to get back up from. The problem, if I can oversimplify, isn’t about knowledge or opportunity – I’ve had an abundance of both. The problem is that I tried to move forward without faith. Maybe it seems ridiculous to you, but I think it takes faith to change nutrition and exercise habits. Every time I started a new diet, or a new exercise program, or hired a new trainer, I struggled to put faith into the process or the person who was coaching me. I struggled with cutting things out of my diet, restricting calories, trying new exercises, needing to modify exercises to my ability level and so on, because I didn’t really know if it was going to work or not. The outcome of changing lifestyle habits was my unanswered question – was this really going to work for me this time?

Paradoxically, there were times when I did put my faith in the process and several times it did pay off – it paid off in increased strength, flexibility, weightloss, increased energy, and so on. But then I had a set-back. Several circumstances made me question my faith in the process, so much so, that I gave up on it. I gave up on eating right; I gave up on exercise. And it took its toll. I lost the energy I had gained. I gained back the weight I had lost. I lost strength, flexibility; and probably the worst part – I lost believing in myself.

As I’ve contemplated the things I’ve lost and as I’ve pondered on the seemingly inexhaustible supply of self-loathing I experience on a daily basis, and especially in light of what I was reminded of in church today – I realize that the one  thing I’ve never had any faith in – is me. When I had faith in the process of weightloss, it worked, I did lose weight, and it felt great. But I didn’t believe that I was worth it. I didn’t have faith that I could sustain the progress I had made because I didn’t have faith in myself. And I inevitably gave up on the process of weightloss.

I have spent thousands of hours, years even, money, tears, and whatever energy I could muster to try to understand why I am the way I am. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bagging on therapy – I love therapy and I’m a huge advocate for it. But after so much time and energy trying to understand why, I think I’m at a place where I realize that some questions just aren’t going to be answered. I don’t know why my first, visceral reaction is to hate myself; I don’t know why I have an aversion to doing anything “hard,” or that will make me look stupid; I don’t know why a good body and self-confidence come so easily to others and not to me. I don’t know why I have to fight my own brain every single day just to function in this world, let alone improve myself. And maybe I won’t ever know. Maybe that’s what faith is – to not know, but to move forward anyway. Maybe what I have needed, more than “answers” is just to have faith that I am worth it; that I can do it; that regardless of how successful I am (I really want to lose that “last” 100 pounds!!), that I’ll be better off for even trying.

Going back to a point I wanted to make – it seems strange that I have no problem having faith in an omniscient/omnipotent being that I can’t see, hear, smell, or touch and yet I can’t have faith in the very physical, tangible experience of being me. I can’t help but ask myself, “what would having faith in myself look like?”

I literally just spent the last 10 minutes looking off into space because I don’t know how to answer that question…

I guess it would mean pursuing health and fitness without having to defend or justify myself. I would do it because it would make me happy. I think it would mean being willing to make sacrifices of junk food/binge eating because I know those things don’t really make me happy long-term. I think it would mean being willing to accept all the bad things that come with life – being willing to be in pain, to be uncomfortable, to sacrifice or go without something I may want in the moment; and knowing that life doesn’t present hardships as a punishment – it’s just a part of life and it’s okay. I think it would mean accepting that some things are just hard, and that it doesn’t mean it’s wrong, or that I’ve done something wrong.

It has been difficult to face hard things because I haven’t felt that I was worth it. I also just realized that when something gets hard, I immediately react with feelings of indignation. When I face something hard, I hear my inner voice saying, “this isn’t fair…” And you know what? It isn’t. It isn’t fair that I have to work so hard to lose weight when it comes so easily to other men. It isn’t fair that I have to sacrifice enjoyable food when other men can eat whatever they want and not gain weight. It isn’t fair that I’ve been through so much trauma, only to have to work even harder at changing my thoughts/beliefs as a result. It isn’t fair that I have to deal with the fallout of things that happened to me, that I didn’t cause, that I didn’t want and that I never would have chosen. It isn’t fair that I have to suffer the consequences of other people’s bad choices/behavior. Yes, I know that makes me sound like a brat – and maybe that’s all I’ve ever been. But I’ve avoided and I’ve retreated and I’ve hid myself away because I just can’t face dealing with hard things when it wasn’t my fault to begin with. Well that also sounds like a victim talking…

Okay, so it isn’t fair. I am absolutely, 100% right – it’s not fair.

Now what?

Where does “it’s not fair” actually get me? Nowhere!!

Focusing on “it’s not fair” just leaves me stuck. I don’t have the answer, but maybe, just maybe, one way to get past “it’s not fair” is to realize that what it is, is an opportunity.

No, I didn’t want to be molested. And it isn’t fair. But it is an opportunity to forgive. No, I didn’t want to be morbidly obese. And it isn’t fair. But it is an opportunity to learn to appreciate the body God has given me. No, I didn’t want to live my life hating myself because other people hurt me. And it isn’t fair. But it is an opportunity to triumph in the face of adversity.

Maybe what “isn’t fair” is also an opportunity for faith. I think having faith in myself is trusting that what I want is okay to want; that I am worth achieving and maintaining improved health and fitness; that it’s okay that the process will be hard at times, but that the outcome will be worth it.

I think having faith in myself will mean doing the hardest thing possible: accept myself for who I am, the way I am, fat and all.

I have gotten used to beating myself up and I have gotten used to misery. I think it will be just as hard to admit that I’m okay, as it will be to accept that I’m okay. I have never allowed myself to be truly happy. I thought I needed to change, to achieve an ideal body/success, in order to matter, in order to be happy. So I’ve never allowed myself to really be happy. I was afraid that if I was happy then something bad would happen to “balance it out.” I was afraid that being happy meant I was being selfish. I was afraid that being happy meant taking happiness away from others, because there’s only so much to go around. I was afraid that being happy meant that I couldn’t change my circumstances, that I had to give up my dreams of improving myself physically or otherwise, because if I’m happy, then what else do I need?

It’s just occurred to me that I don’t think of happiness as an outcome of choices I make (i.e., a side effect); I think of happiness as THE destination – the whole end goal. Once you’re happy, that’s it – you’ve made it. You’re happy and there’s nothing else to want or do because you don’t need anything because you’re happy.

But what if happiness is NOT a final destination? What if happiness is NOT an end, in and of itself?

What if happiness is like a jacket. You aren’t meant to wear jackets all the time, but for some kinds of weather it’s the perfect comfort. In that way, maybe fulfillment doesn’t come FROM simply “being happy,” but maybe fulfillment comes from growth and achievement, and happiness just sometimes comes along for the ride…?

Well this post just kind of went everywhere, didn’t it? Sorry if it’s been all over the place. I didn’t realize until I started typing this that the concept of happiness was such a contributing factor to my lack of self-worth.

Ultimately, I don’t know what will come from all of the realizations I’ve had today. I still have so many unanswered questions. But I suppose that was really the whole point of this post in the first place: Faith is just living life with unanswered questions – and unanswered questions are no reason to stop living.

The "meaning" in change

Following my training session on Friday I had a talk with my trainer, Kathryn. I was asking her about something she had posted on her FaceBook page regarding self-acceptance. I’m paraphrasing here, but it was something to the effect that building a skill, then acknowledging the effort and what you learn from that experience helps increase self-confidence, i.e., self-acceptance.

I remember reading that and thinking, “That’s exactly what I struggle with!” (Well, okay, to be honest, it’s ONE thing I struggle with on a list of many, but I digress…) I struggle with acknowledging effort. For example: I’ve been going to the gym 2-3 times a week for 5 months (give or take a week). For me, that is astounding! And yet, I don’t feel “good” about that because even with all that effort, I’m still not where I want to be. I look in the mirror and I’m still that 300lb hippo that is disgusting, gross and never going to amount to anything.

In my mind I see the “end” goal of what I want – to be that healthy, thin, athletic version of myself – but where I am right now is sooooo far from where I want to be that I feel like I’m never going to make it.

Here’s another example: In the last 5 months I’ve lost about 15 pounds. Which should be great, right? But it’s not. 15 pounds is nothing when you need to lose 100! Additionally, because I have so much to lose, I don’t see any difference when I look in the mirror. I may be down 15 pounds, but I don’t look like it – I don’t see the results and that is so discouraging. Yes, I know that losing any weight is better than even just maintaining, and certainly better than gaining, but knowing that doesn’t help me in the moment because I’m just so frustrated at not being where I want to be.

This sounds a lot like the “I’ll be happy when…” syndrome, doesn’t it? (I don’t even know if it has an official name – If it doesn’t, it should!) But what I’m describing goes much, much deeper than happiness. I'm not saying “I’ll be happy when I’m thin and athletic.” What I’m really saying is, “I’ll be acceptable when I’m thin and athletic!” That is a reflection of my very identity, of my beliefs, of my past traumas, of my thoughts – everything!

I don’t know how to express that this is so much more significant than just happiness! Acceptance is huge! Every single day there are people who “fall in with the wrong crowd,” even when that includes criminal behavior, because they are accepted by them. This is why so many people turn to plastic surgery, because they think they need it to be acceptable. Every day, people who don’t feel like they are acceptable, turn to drugs, alcohol, pornography, gambling and any other kind of addiction, because it takes away the pain of not being acceptable, of not being good enough, of not measuring up. Every day, people commit suicide – because they don’t fit in, because they aren’t acceptable and because they don’t see any other way out of that worthless condition. I know what that feels like.

I see it every time I look in the mirror. I am unacceptable this way. That’s what I see. I don’t want to be thin and healthy because I want to be thin and healthy. I want to be thin and healthy because I won’t be acceptable until I am… It becomes a matter of life or death. I can’t enjoy the journey, because the journey doesn’t matter – only the outcome matters. I can’t acknowledge the effort – or celebrate the wins – because unless the effort results in being thin, healthy and athletic then it doesn’t mean anything or won’t mean anything until that far off day arrives.

So no, I can’t acknowledge my effort in going to the gym more consistently than ever before. No, I can’t feel good about the increased conditioning I have experienced in greater work capacity and shorter rest times. No, I can’t celebrate losing 15 pounds in 5 months; because even with all that – I’m still fat. Still fat, gross and disgusting. Morbidly obese, according to the medical establishment.

And I hate that I know that that’s wrong!! I hate it when what I know and what I feel aren’t congruent!! (Welcome to the life of an INFJ, I guess…) I KNOW I should be celebrating every win – no matter how small. But all of this hinges on acceptance. Or, more accurately, how I define what I think “being acceptable” means.

[I really need to credit Ryan Holiday’s book “The Obstacle Is the Way” for what I’m about to share. Much of what I have been pondering stemmed from principles he outlines in his book – and I’ve only read the first two chapters!]

I look at my life – everything I’ve been through – and I see over and over, time and time again, that everything points to being unacceptable. Every occasion of neglect, every critical word or look, every insult or joke about my weight, the fact that I wasn’t protected from being sexually traumatized, etc, all of it – was purely because I was unacceptable.

Or was it?

In the last couple of weeks I have begun to realize this truth: It was not the events that proved I was unacceptable – it was the meaning I attached to the events that led me to believe I was unacceptable. (Please re-read that sentence a few times until you really “get it.”) In my young, innocent mind the only explanation that I could come up with, that consistently explained why these horrible things had happened to me was that there was something wrong with me – that at my core, I was unacceptable. This also took the form of being unworthy, undeserving, etc. But in each case, I was the one that ascribed that meaning to those events. It was my perception, my interpretation, my definition, whatever word you want to use, that formed my belief system regarding those events. That’s what we do, as people, as human beings, we try to make sense of things, right? We categorize things, we label things, we need names for everything, because we are constantly seeking meaning.

So what happens when you misinterpret something? What happens when you attach the wrong meaning to an event or circumstance? Well, you behave accordingly. You create an internal rule, or a belief filter, and everything that happens in your life gets viewed through that (warped?) filter. You then misinterpret other events and circumstances – especially, the behavior of others.

Think about it. You’re driving down the road and someone cuts you off. That’s the circumstance, but how you react to it, has very little to do with the actual event and significantly more to do with your interpretation of that event. If you decide that the other driver is a jerk, you get mad and yell and feel wronged. If you decide that the other driver is maybe having a personal emergency, say they’re on their way to the hospital where a loved one is seriously injured, you forgive them, you may even feel compassion for them and hope that they make it safely wherever their going. Totally different reactions, right? Why? Not because of the circumstance itself, but because of the meaning you give the circumstance. That’s it.

I look in the mirror and see an unacceptable guy, because that’s the meaning I gave to the circumstances of my life. Yes, I probably could blame others and be somewhat justified. I could blame all the strangers who have avoided me, or looked down on me with contempt, or pointed at me and laughed, or insulted me verbally for no reason. I could blame those neighbors whose perverted behavior damaged me psychologically and emotionally. I could blame all the friends in my life who turned their backs on me because I was too fat and ugly to fit in. I could blame my parents for the times they neglected and/or criticized me. I could blame God for knowing all that I would experience and not doing anything to stop it.

But would that blame do anything productive? It might make me feel justified in my innocence. It might make me feel like I’m the victim and therefore bear no responsibility for how sucky my life turned out. But unfortunately, blame also keeps me stuck. It keeps me revolving around things that I can’t do anything about. It keeps me stuck in the past. Ultimately, blame leaves me powerless because in order to blame others I have to give up the power to act for myself. I am left in a position where I can only react, which means I’m forever focused on what I can’t control.

That’s quite the dysfunctional box to be in! Is there a way out? Yes!! Thank God there is a way out! God has given us moral agency – meaning the ability to make choices, which means: even when I can’t change the circumstances of my life, I CAN CHANGE WHAT THEY MEAN!!

I can choose to decide that the meaning behind my friends’ rejection was more about their insecurity in those moments. I can choose to decide that my parents’ mistreatment of me had to do with carelessness or lack of awareness of their own behavior, or maybe they were just having some bad days, etc. In any case I can choose to believe that their mistreatment was more about what was going on inside of them, than what they thought of me. I can choose to believe that the reason my neighbors hurt me, wasn’t about me at all – it was about how broken and hurt they were and the horrible, dysfunctional way that they were trying to find comfort/safety.

But what about the really tough stuff? What about what I see in the mirror?

I guess I could continue to choose to believe that the guy I see in the mirror is fat, ugly, gross and worthless. Or… maybe I could choose to believe that he just got a little lost for a while. Maybe I could choose to believe that he found it kinder to blame himself than others. That maybe he felt so much charity for others that, when faced with only two (perceived) options, he chose to sacrifice himself instead of finding fault with everyone else. Maybe I can choose to believe that here is a guy who was always worthy of being loved, of being treated with respect; who was always deserving of his father’s time and his mother’s approval – whether he felt he got it or not. I can choose to believe that this guy is worth improving by losing weight and being healthy, not because he HAS to be in order to be acceptable, but maybe because he already IS acceptable and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to improve himself. It's okay to celebrate the wins. It's okay to dig in and enjoy the journey, because when it comes to self-improvement, there is no "end" to that process. It is not a journey of "destinations," it is a journey of milestones. When we reach one milestone, we aren't "done!" We set out for another, then another, and another....

We can’t always change our circumstances and I suppose that can make us feel powerless. But we can always choose to find - or change - the meaning in our circumstances and in that, there is great power.

Morbidly obese and... perfectly healthy?

So there's good news and there's bad news: The good news? My blood work came back perfect. Like, perfect! Everything right in the normal ranges where they should be. The test included testosterone, thyroid, inflammation markers, etc. [The only thing a little high was my blood pressure at 132/89, which is still totally in the acceptable range.] So I'm super happy about that! The bad news? My blood work came back perfect! (yeah, you read that right!) So how can "perfect" blood work be bad? Well, how can someone have perfect blood work and still be 100 pounds overweight? (And DON'T give me that "fat set point" garbage, 'cause I don't accept that!) It may sound crazy, but I was really hoping to find something that would explain why I'm sooooo overweight - and why it's been so hard to lose weight! So, I'm a little disappointed that I have perfect blood work. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to know I'm healthy on the inside, but that still doesn't mean I want an award for being the healthiest morbidly obese person on the planet!! I'm also kind of annoyed because people keep telling me that "once you're healthy on the inside the weight will just come off naturally!" Well that sounds about as wonderful as a butterfly farting roses, but it also doesn't seem to be the case with me and it's starting to feel like a big fat lie (pun intended!!)!! So what's it going to take? Continuing my investigation, I recently submitted a saliva sample to Fitness Genes, base out of the UK. Where they take a saliva sample and test your genetic profile to see what type of exercise/diet would be optimal for you genetically. Sounds cool, no? I won't get the results back for another month, however, so for the time being, I'm left with no option, but to keep doing what I'm doing. But I'm frustrated because I have no idea what I NEED to be doing to lose weight! What do you do when you're doing everything right, but not getting any results?