I went to Weight Watchers this morning, as I do almost every Saturday morning, and almost didn't weigh in. I knew what the scale would say. Despite having a great loss the week before, this past week hadn't been fantastic. I started out not doing a very good job of tracking what I was eating. As the week wore on and my life encountered some situations that always bring stress and hard emotions, that spiralled further and further downward until the last couple days where my attitude was pretty much, "Oh screw it."
But, there was another part of the deal, too.
This time, there was to be no condemnation of myself, no beating myself up over my choices or my mistakes. This time, I was to treat myself with the same kindness that I would extend to the person sitting next to me. Now, that doesn't mean that I'm not honest about where I messed up or where I could have done better or what I can do better in the week to come. But, there is no punishment. There is no treating myself like a failure.
So, I'm not beating myself up today. I'm disappointed with how the week went, to be sure. But I'm forgiving myself for the week that was, and heading with determination into the week that will be.
Sometimes, it isn't weight loss that's the hardest part. It's self-forgiveness.
And it occurs to me that this is the hardest thing in a lot of the parts of my life. It is hard to forgive myself for the things that have been -- words I've said, choices I've made, people I've believed that have ended up being not truthful, trust given and betrayed, trust withheld when it deserved to be given, promises I've broken, even things that were that I couldn't have changed anyway. These are things that I have a very hard time forgiving myself for... a very hard time moving forward from.
And yet, grace.