The Woman Who Didn't Need to Be Beautiful Today

There was something strangely freeing about gaining weight.

Not because I wanted to.

Not because I stopped caring about my health.

But because, for the first time in a very long time, I realized I wasn't trying to become someone's ideal anymore.

For months after the separation, I threw myself into healing.

I prayed.
I journaled.
I read.
I worked out.
I tracked my progress.
I rebuilt my mind one thought at a time.

Looking back now, I can see that some of it was truly for me.

But not all of it.

Somewhere, quietly, hidden underneath all of that growth, there was still a woman preparing herself.

Preparing to be chosen.
Preparing to be seen.
Preparing to become the version of herself that maybe, just maybe, he would regret losing.

I don't think I knew that at the time.

I genuinely believed I was simply healing.

And in many ways, I was.

But healing is funny.

Sometimes God doesn't reveal the deeper layer until you're ready to see it.

Lately I've been exhausted.

Not the kind of exhaustion that sleep fixes.

A deeper kind.

The kind that settles into your bones after carrying too much for too long.

I've gone to bed late.
I've eaten more sweets than usual.
I haven't been to the gym in weeks.
Sometimes washing my hair feels like climbing a mountain.

At first, I thought I was failing.

Then something occurred to me.

Maybe my body isn't rebelling.

Maybe my body is finally resting.

For an entire year I survived.

I left my marriage.
I raised my son.
I navigated court.
I launched a podcast I had dreamed about for years.
I kept writing.
I kept believing.
I kept choosing God over despair.

And somewhere in all of that...

I forgot that bodies get tired too.

My soul was healing at a remarkable pace.

My mind was making connections almost every day.

But my body was quietly carrying the bill.

I think it finally sent me one simple message:

"I'm done performing."

And maybe that's why, strangely enough, I don't want to obsess about my weight right now.

Not forever.

Just...

not right now.

Because for the first time, there isn't a man I'm trying to impress.

There isn't a marriage I'm trying to save.

There isn't a version of myself I'm desperately trying to become worthy enough to be loved.

There is only me.

A mother.

A daughter.

A woman.

A child of God.

And perhaps that's enough for today.

Maybe one day I'll return to the gym with joy instead of desperation.

Maybe I'll nourish my body because I love it instead of because I'm trying to earn something.

Maybe I'll move because it feels good to be alive.

Not because I'm afraid someone won't choose me if I don't.

That feels like a different kind of freedom.

A quieter one.

A holier one.

Tonight I realized something I never expected to say.

I don't need to be beautiful today.

I need to be cared for.

And maybe those two things were never the same in the first place.

💜