‘Wearing my mistakes’ and learning to see beyond them

I love when I sit down to write. On go the headphones and music pumps through them. The rhythm and the melody come together to help push me forward as I write and sometimes the words inspire me to explore topics that I might not have otherwise have written about.

Tonight, one song sticks out above the others, and I can’t help but listen to it over again, and over gain.

This time, my inspiration comes from a song called “Stained Glass” by Jon Guerra.

As I listen to it, I can’t help but think about how every decision, some good, and some bad have somehow come together to make the sum of who I am and how some of it seems good, and some of it does not.

I’m a very reflective person, and so often I pick apart every aspect of myself, sometimes trying to figure things out and other times just trying to deal with what I’ve become.

Some of the words coming through my headphones: “All my days I’ve been wearing the mistakes I’ve made. Like a coat I could’ve thrown away.”

How true these words are. For me, they are very true.

Every day I get up and I see this part of me, but I don’t always like to look at it.

I don’t like to think about the mistakes I’ve made along the way.

I know that the extra weight that I carry is just a visual reminder of those mistakes.

I don’t look in the mirror much anymore. I haven’t in a long time. I avoid it.

When I see pictures of myself, as I have tonight, there’s disconnect between what I see and what I feel.

Are my arms really that big? Unfortunately, they are.

If I don’t look at them, it’s like they aren’t any bigger than what I feel like they are.

But when I do look at them, I see mistakes. I see years of emotional overeating. I see cravings. I see a lack of self-control.

Just like the song doesn’t end with mistakes, the story doesn’t end there either.

Throwing away my mistakes, I change what I see in the mirror or in a photograph of myself.

It gives me a chance also to get a better glimpse of who I really am, beyond the physical appearance. I’m not my mistakes, but sometimes I have to remind myself of that because sometimes I identify too closely with them.

That late-night pizza I used to eat once upon a time, it’s not me, nor are the wings or the blue cheese covered wedges.

The reality is if I were a piece of artwork, I’d be a masterpiece – not because of physical appearance or any kind of perfection, because that I am most definitely lacking – but simply because I was made that way. It’s a sum of all of what makes me who I am; the things that people see and the things that they don’t. Whether imagining a painting or a stain-glass window as the song suggests, it gives me a better idea of who I really am causing me to look deep into my soul and into my spirit.

It helps me to see myself far beyond how big my arms are or my waistline for that matter.

I think seeing myself in that way is an important part of transformation because it’s something that hasn’t coming naturally to me. I had to look for it. Instead of not looking at myself, avoiding mirrors and looking at pictures, I simply have a new way of seeing what I look at in the mirror. The problem is, until it becomes more natural to look at myself in this new way, I will probably need to remind myself to do it. Perhaps looking into a stained glass mirror will help me remember.

If not, then perhaps maybe the Bible verse that was left on my desk this week in a sweet little note will help. “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well,” Psalm 139:14. Thank you to the person who left it and the pink handmade needlepoint cross that was with it. That was very kind.

If you want to hear the song that I’ve been listening to over and over while writing this column, you can find the full song on YouTube – just search Jon Guerra and Stained Glass.

If you want to follow my weight-loss journey, read about it occasionally in my column, “Healthy steps” or you can watch my weight-loss journey unfold and show your support by liking the page www.facebook.com/GretchenGetFit on Facebook or following me on Twitter @GretchenGetFit. Contact the writer at gbalshuweit@thedailyreview.com.

Healthy steps is written by Gretchen Balshuweit, news editor and Health & Wellness page columnist for The Daily Review as she pursues her own journey to health and wellness in hopes of losing a total of 200-250 pounds of excess weight.