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I joined Weight Watchers on Friday the 13th~ I was inspired by my good friend, Lori of @mommyfriend. Her honesty and bravery have given me the strength to finally be honest with you about my biggest fear. My weight. I have been terrified of the the scale all of my adult life. More petrifying was that someone, anyone, would find out the number on the scale. Even though I may look overweight (as you can plainly see) I’ve become accustomed to pushing, pulling, nipping, tucking, spanxing and hiding the “fluff”. It’s amazing the power of a shaper these days. Those suckers must be made of of some super strength material from the planet Krypton. But when you remove the spanx, the fluff remains, no matter what angel you try to position yourself. Suck in, lay down, to the right, to the left; no matter what…it’s still there.
I’ve done Weight Watchers once before. I lost 25 pounds, which sounds like a lot but I had a lot more to lose. Then life happened, as it always does, and we moved half way across the country. I missed my Weight Watchers group. I missed the support. I tried other meetings. I tried a couple different places. But it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the same. My state of mind wasn’t the same. I was stressed and irritable. I turned to my old friend for comfort, and I gained the 25 pounds I had lost plus another 11. I was the heaviest I had ever been in my entire life and I felt miserable. I feel miserable.
I felt fat. I felt slovenly. I felt ugly. I felt out of control. I wanted to hide from the world. I started avoiding social situations out of fear of the audible gasp at the gain. Or worse, the disappointment in people’s eyes from gaining back what I had worked so hard to lose. I felt like a failure. I don’t do well with failure. I am the person who succeeds at whatever she sets her mind to so gaining this weight was a giant failure. A black mark on my very soul. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve never stopped trying to lose weight, but it’s not been the priority lately ( back went out, severely sprained my ankle, and holidays). Complaining seems to have been a lot easier.
I spiraled deeper and deeper into my black hole. I felt as if I were smothering beneath the weight of the guilt, the sadness, the grief of not having more control over my health, my body, my life.
I have started this journey so many times that it makes my head spin to think about it. I feel like the little boy who cried wolf, but instead I’m the woman who cried diet. No one believes it anymore. Have you done this? Broad sweeping declarations , “Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. I WILL LOSE THE WEIGHT!” The problem is, even I stopped believing it was possible. Then lately, people and inspiration have been put into my life to prove that it is possible.
I know some of you know exactly what I mean. Some of you don’t have to because you are naturally thin and to you I say, “I am so freaking jealous and I hope you never know the misery of having to lose weight.”
Last week, I joined Weight Watchers. Last week, I weighed myself, Friday the 13th, 2012, and I weighed 243 pounds. ( I will pause while you pick yourself back up off of the floor). No, I am not 8 foot tall. I am 5’7″. I am very overweight. I wear a size 18 pants. I am not telling you this because I am proud. In fact, not even my closest friends or sisters know my actual weight. I am sharing this with you because I REFUSE to be a slave of that number anymore. I will no longer hide in the shadows of life because of the number on the scale. It has never defined me but it has kept me from broadening my definition lately. No.MORE! In my first week I lost 5.8 pounds.I am very proud of that small accomplishment of losing that weight.
I’m telling you now because I am encouraging all of you to stop defining yourself by the fucking number on the scale. You are a bigger and better than that. Your value is not in the size of your pants. By telling you my number, I have taken away it’s power over me. It’s not a secret anymore. I AM changing that number. It might take me months, or even years, but I’m not stopping. I can’t. Not this time. This time it’s personal. I want to be healthy to be around to play with my children, dance at their weddings with the Big Guy and chase my children’s children around. I want to be able to dance my ass off on my 40th birthday this September in something cute and short; not the size of a toddler bed sheet.
I don’t know what’s lit this fire under my ass and compelled me to be so freaking honest with you, maybe it’s the new sassy hair cut or maybe I am simply tired of trying to hide my weight from the world. I am more than just a number on a scale. I am all kinds of awesome but I do want to change the packaging. I want to be as proud of the packaging as I am of the gift inside. I hope my honesty inspires you to free yourself from the weight of your world and face your fears; whether it be a number on the scale, an unrealized dream or anything that brings down the happiness quotient in your life. What is the greatest weight in your life? Will you join me in freeing yourself from the weight in your world?
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