Why can't I just get it back?

I spent years asking this question.

And I think some of us get stuck here, I sure did. Sometimes I wonder if it felt more painful, more frustrating, having had a taste of it. Having lived in a body that was close(r) to the vision in my head, the version I believed I needed to be. It wasn’t unknown anymore. I’d had it. It just didn’t last.

Knowing I’d had it, but couldn’t keep hold of it, that was a hard place to be. It felt like a whole new level of failure I couldn’t escape from, with my body being a constant reminder of what I'd lost. (No wonder I strived to shrink myself.)

I blamed my lack of discipline and self-control for not getting back there.

I poured so much energy into figuring out how I could get back to it, instead of asking why I couldn’t maintain it in the first place. I focused on the wrong part of the story.

As a result of the messaging we receive, I was also under the impression that every body should, can and will be a size X. It was then my responsibility to be there, and not stray. If I did, it was my moral obligation to get it back.

But what if my body was never meant to be that size in the first place?

What if my body was fighting back because that wasn’t its safe space?

Could it be that my body wasn’t failing me, but instead was trying to protect me?

The more I learned, the more I understood my body has its own genetic blueprint. Set point weight theory, for example, explains that each body has a natural weight range where it functions best, and it will work hard to stay within that range - whether I like it or not. It’s not a lack of discipline; it’s biology. When I restrict or push my body beyond its comfort zone, it fights back to keep me safe.

That resistance I felt wasn't failure - it was protection.

Maybe instead of fighting my body, I needed to listen to it. To broaden my understanding of health beyond a number on a scale, from what I thought it was to what it actually looked like for me, without restriction, without bingeing, without disorder.

To explore what true safety could look like for me.