A few months ago Jules from Big Girl Bombshell threw up a question (in a ‘putting it out there’ way, not a regurgitating kind of way!) asking readers to consider how differently we would act if we weren’t overweight, or if we were slim (or normal: my words). I tried to imagine myself taking off some imaginary fat suit (if only!) and prancing about. It was far more difficult than I imagined as I found it hard to differentiate how I act because I’m overweight; and how I act because of how I feel because I’m overweight. For example… would I still not smile at cute men even if I wasn’t big and feel like they would judge me for even THINKING I was worthy of their affection.

Would my thinking remain fucked up, no matter what my size? Would I still feel unworthy? Which of course begs the question: Is my binge-eating and self-sabotaging behaviour a result of those feelings of unworthiness? Possibly, but that is a whole other story!

And now, as it happens, Jules’s latest blog post is AGAIN enough to make me want to smack my head down on my desk. (At work, not at home, as my desk at home is glass… so it could get ugly!)

In her latest post, Jules comments on that age-old question that parents get asked: “Are we there yet?”

And… she wonders if we are still asking that as adults.

What does it look like to be there?
If life is truly about the journey, then will we ever BE there?
The anticipation, excitement, oh yeah and boredom that happens as we travel to THERE.
What does THERE look like?
Is it everything you dream, hope and wish for?
Or is it just a stopping point in our travels?
And we move on to the next “there yet”
There is our life….but what is it?  Do we know it when we get “there”?

Can I just say…. ARGH! All of my worst nightmares racing towards me like a freight train (sorry about the mixed metaphors or similes in there somewhere).

Anyone who has read a few of my posts knows that I’m a bit of a misery-guts who has essentially put her life on hold waiting…. for something…. Waiting for things to be perfect. Or even good. Instead, years (and years and years) have passed me by until I am now 43 and wondering where the fuck my life went. So, I’m most definitely waiting to get THERE. And, like Jules I’ve also wondered about the journey versus the destination and figured I was a destination kind of gal, but …. what if you don’t know exactly where you are going?

As a former project manager it is worrying that I don’t know what the end goal is. And, if I did, am I brave enough to articulate it, or to admit what it is I really wish for?!

In reality, I’ve sort of missed the boat on my perfect life: my life which included a man (and never-ending bliss – obviously); a child/children; a fulfilling and meaningful career and working life; and friends and other family. Oh, and my health. I guess.

Some of those things are no longer a reality, but what is? What exactly is it that I want from my life? What does ‘there’ look like for me? Is it just losing weight; or is it losing weight and finding a partner; or would the partner suffice if they accepted me as I am? Is it ‘not minding my job too much’; or is it feeling great passion for what I do each day? Or is it not working at all? (Ummm…. so okay, the latter would be nice if someone wanted leave me a few million dollars, or even just one!)

And what about the oft-mentioned self-actualisation? Bah!

Will I ever be ‘there’? Or am I the sort of person who will always want ‘more’ and never be contented: the perfectionist who looks around at others with envy, wanting what I don’t have and sure the grass must be greener anywhere else but where I am?

I feel the need to end this post with some sort of platitude about how I should just get on with my life, and wanky crap about ‘loving and respecting’ myself more without external validation. Blah blah blah. But… sometimes, even here where I try to be honest, I tend to sprout a bit of rubbish and say what I KNOW I should be saying… but not really mean it. And, I suspect this is one of those times. So because although I HOPE that I know I’m ‘there’ when I arrive, but suspect I never will, that’s it for today. THE END.