Borrowed Beliefs

The boy I absolutely adored in seventh grade leaned over to my desk. I tried to appear cool, but I was sure he could see my heart practically beating out of my chest.

“Hey, Holly?”

I could barely meet his gaze. Was this really happening??

“I was just wondering what you did to get your calves so buff? They are HUGE!”

I deflated faster than a popped balloon. I mumbled something about ballet and gymnastics and that’s just how I was built. He asked me to flex my calf, and I swear I had an out-of-body experience. Please, let this end. I wanted to disappear.

I know this boy wasn’t being rude. He genuinely wanted his skinny legs to look like my muscular ones. But I was mortified. I hated my body. I just wanted to be skinny. I wanted to be skinny like my sister or my friends. I hated hearing my mom tell me that my weight was because muscle weighed more than fat. It was a lie. I was fat, and that made me ugly. The scale didn’t lie.

This is the belief I held about myself for years.

It clouded everything—my eating, my thoughts, my exercise habits, my confidence, and my self-worth.

In 1996, I met Brian. We fell in love. He told me I was beautiful. While it was nice to hear, I dismissed him. No, I was fat. I was too muscular. I’d be beautiful if I could just be skinny. About two years later, we got married. He never stopped telling me I was beautiful. And for a very long time, I was dismissive. I heard his words, but my belief stayed put. I wouldn’t entertain anything else. I knew the truth.

One time, in his frustration with me, Brian said, “You don’t get it! Your body is beautiful, just how it is now…muscles and all.”

I was taken aback.

At this moment, his words pierced my soul. Thankfully, I didn’t dismiss the thought. Maybe I had been wrong?

I didn’t know for sure, but I let his belief hang around with me. I borrowed it.

I borrowed it when all the jeans were skinny jeans, and I felt like a sausage stuffed into a casing. I borrowed it when the numbers on my scale were higher than I wanted them to be. I borrowed it when I went to a party wearing the same jeans as a skinny, little friend of mine (this one was really hard, by the way). I borrowed it as much as I could.

Now I still have plenty of moments when I think I hate how I look and want to be skinny. However, I also have a borrowed belief that I am beautiful, right now. His belief is not as believable as my old one, yet I keep practicing.

Someday…it won’t be borrowed anymore.

It will be mine.