Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Oh no she didn't!
Last night was just like any other typical Tuesday night at the OB. Lots of yummy food teasing me into almost cheating on my hard earned weight loss. Do you even know the type of will power it takes to avoid Aussie Cheese Fries? Do you? It's like Superman, Incredible Hulk, Ultimate Spiderman will power! It's sooo hard not to just have a little nibble. But I digress. This is not so much about the cheese fries that I have been dutifully ignoring, but rather about the decedent dessert that came before me. The sundae was this: a premium ball of delicious vanilla ice cream, rolled with love in a roasty toasty coconut crust, lay gently on a warm pecan fudge brownie, drizzled with mesmerizing homemade hot fudge, and topped with a small tantalizing scoop of fluffy whip cream. It looked like one huge orgasm in a bowl. Ohhhh....It was absurd to me to find out that this beautiful display of pure naughtiness was a MISTAKE! Can you believe it? The customer had ordered this dessert without the chocolate sauce. Guess what happens when such mistakes are made? The pastry chef puts it on the waitstaff station for ALL to enjoy. I was in the unfortunate position of noticing it first. It's the prized position to be when when such crazy things happen because you get the first bite, free of any other waitstaff germs that eventually come when, like vultures, the starving waitstaff descend upon it. That first bite could be mine! With great bravado I refrained from dipping a spoon into it's warm softness. Oh, I desperately wanted to and I made it known to all how much I wanted to but wasn't going to do it. All night I had been battling the urge to enjoy an aussie chip, cheese fries, fried mushrooms, and the yummiest honey wheat bread ever. This could surely send me over the edge, or give me the strength to go on. I was so proud of myself as I watched the "birds" dive and dig apart their carcass, and I had none. Just then, one of the vultures pulled her silver spoon slowly out of her mouth, making sure to get every last coconut piece with hot fudge. I couldn't help but watch with pure jealousy. She looked me square in my face and giggled out, "I'm so glad I don't have to watch what I eat and worry about getting fat." It was all I could do from lunging at her and scratching her eyeballs out! Oh No! She did not just say that! I relax my muscles, still feeling proud that I didn't give in, and laugh at her naiveness. "Come talk to me after you have kids and your boobs sometimes fall in the toilet!" It's not pretty, but it's me...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Is Weight just a number? Or...does it hold more "weight" then that?
So here I am, 27 years old and on the cusp of being 28, feeling like I just can't waste any more of my "young" years disliking myself. Having a poor sense of body image and a bit of self-conscienceness seems to be the norm for every 13-18 year old girl (and some boys), and sadly these are the years when most of us look our best! Reality and living life hasn't aged us, and the McDonald food seems to just go through us, and being active and having fun are school subjects. I always had a complaint about myself as a teen, and I suppose it didn't help that all my friends were about 7 inches shorter then me. I had an expectation of what I should "weigh" and unless I was that exact number then true self confidence couldn't be exuded. Oh, to have those years back!
As I watch my mom age and continue to battle that cycle of pounds put on vs. pounds taken off, I wonder if I'm doomed to be on the same hamster wheel? The fact remains that I don't get younger by the day, but the opposite occurs. Do I really want to be fighting this battle until I die? Should it even be a battle? When I think back to how I got here it's no surprise that I'm chubby. What is a surprise is that I'm not dead yet. Large Coffee with extra cream and extra sugar, aussie cheese fries by the fistfulls, boston creme rolls by the boxfulls, ice cream and peanut butter, fried food, and to top it all off...0 minutes exercising! I mean...really? What was I thinking? It's like shopping with a credit card when you don't have the cash. You think, "I don't have the $75 at this moment, but I will at the end of the month and then I can pay it off," and then the next week the same thing happens, and before you know it you've got bills up to your eyeballs and you've forgotten how to swim. Gaining 80 pounds in one year was done with the same mindset. The first few french fries and coffees weren't a big deal, until they made me so sick that I didn't want to work out. One would think that I would have stopped right there...but I didn't. I ate and I ate and I ate. It got to the point where I was just too embarrassed to go back to the gym and see people I knew. Boy was that stupid!
I remember having a conversation with a friend who was trying to lose a stubborn 10 pounds that kept her from her ultimate "goal" weight. I, too, was about 5 pounds away and feeling very confident I said to her, "I refuse to let the number on that scale dictate my self worth!" It sounded so beautiful coming out of mouth. It was inspiring and empowering. Of course, like I said, I was only 5 pounds over my ultimate "goal" weight. I looked amazing! Trying to utter those words now is simply a joke, and so is the size of my rear end.
The thought of having to stick it out long enough to lose 80 pounds is a frightful task. The thought of losing it and then gaining it back is even scarier! I mean, if I finally lose all of this weight could I really be dumb enough to put it all back on? Statistics are not on my side for this one.
So if I'm so unhappy being fat, then why do I stay this way? That's actually easy to answer: because the attention I get when I'm thin is too much for me to deal with. My fat has protected me from having to confront that type of attention. Unfortunately, I've also managed to lose the attention of my own husband. Oops! That really wasn't what I was going for. It seems that when I get on a good strong roll of losing this weight, my psychological side takes over and sabotages my efforts. I do it without even knowing it's happening. Isn't that insane?
In August a very good friend and I decided that this was IT! We were going to lose the weight and be looking fabulous for the new year. It was fun for about the first 3 weeks and then we see-sawed over the next 3 between having oodles of will power and crying over spilled milk. I lost 25 pounds and she lost roughly 10 (I believe). We're officially in 2008 and guess what! I gained back 20 of those pounds and she gained back 5. Not looking so fabulous. The worst part is looking back over that time and KNOWING that if we had sucked it up and showed some will power we wouldn't still be feeling crappy about ourselves. So back on that stupid hamster wheel I go again, and this time with the gusto of a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time. I'm just so ready...well, for today at least. The thought of spending another summer feeling uncomfortable in my skin is too much for me to bear. The thought of spending one more year being unhappy with my self is even worse. I know I'm never gonna look the way I did at 18, but I'd settle for 23. I don't want to be turning 40 and suddenly realize that I wasted my youth away and some of the damage could be irreversible. I can be okay with the stretch marks and breasts that don't face north when I lie on my back, but to have extra fat that I can do something about is something I don't want.
So is weight just a number? Only if you're skinny. Does it hold more weight then that? Only if you're fat.
As I watch my mom age and continue to battle that cycle of pounds put on vs. pounds taken off, I wonder if I'm doomed to be on the same hamster wheel? The fact remains that I don't get younger by the day, but the opposite occurs. Do I really want to be fighting this battle until I die? Should it even be a battle? When I think back to how I got here it's no surprise that I'm chubby. What is a surprise is that I'm not dead yet. Large Coffee with extra cream and extra sugar, aussie cheese fries by the fistfulls, boston creme rolls by the boxfulls, ice cream and peanut butter, fried food, and to top it all off...0 minutes exercising! I mean...really? What was I thinking? It's like shopping with a credit card when you don't have the cash. You think, "I don't have the $75 at this moment, but I will at the end of the month and then I can pay it off," and then the next week the same thing happens, and before you know it you've got bills up to your eyeballs and you've forgotten how to swim. Gaining 80 pounds in one year was done with the same mindset. The first few french fries and coffees weren't a big deal, until they made me so sick that I didn't want to work out. One would think that I would have stopped right there...but I didn't. I ate and I ate and I ate. It got to the point where I was just too embarrassed to go back to the gym and see people I knew. Boy was that stupid!
I remember having a conversation with a friend who was trying to lose a stubborn 10 pounds that kept her from her ultimate "goal" weight. I, too, was about 5 pounds away and feeling very confident I said to her, "I refuse to let the number on that scale dictate my self worth!" It sounded so beautiful coming out of mouth. It was inspiring and empowering. Of course, like I said, I was only 5 pounds over my ultimate "goal" weight. I looked amazing! Trying to utter those words now is simply a joke, and so is the size of my rear end.
The thought of having to stick it out long enough to lose 80 pounds is a frightful task. The thought of losing it and then gaining it back is even scarier! I mean, if I finally lose all of this weight could I really be dumb enough to put it all back on? Statistics are not on my side for this one.
So if I'm so unhappy being fat, then why do I stay this way? That's actually easy to answer: because the attention I get when I'm thin is too much for me to deal with. My fat has protected me from having to confront that type of attention. Unfortunately, I've also managed to lose the attention of my own husband. Oops! That really wasn't what I was going for. It seems that when I get on a good strong roll of losing this weight, my psychological side takes over and sabotages my efforts. I do it without even knowing it's happening. Isn't that insane?
In August a very good friend and I decided that this was IT! We were going to lose the weight and be looking fabulous for the new year. It was fun for about the first 3 weeks and then we see-sawed over the next 3 between having oodles of will power and crying over spilled milk. I lost 25 pounds and she lost roughly 10 (I believe). We're officially in 2008 and guess what! I gained back 20 of those pounds and she gained back 5. Not looking so fabulous. The worst part is looking back over that time and KNOWING that if we had sucked it up and showed some will power we wouldn't still be feeling crappy about ourselves. So back on that stupid hamster wheel I go again, and this time with the gusto of a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time. I'm just so ready...well, for today at least. The thought of spending another summer feeling uncomfortable in my skin is too much for me to bear. The thought of spending one more year being unhappy with my self is even worse. I know I'm never gonna look the way I did at 18, but I'd settle for 23. I don't want to be turning 40 and suddenly realize that I wasted my youth away and some of the damage could be irreversible. I can be okay with the stretch marks and breasts that don't face north when I lie on my back, but to have extra fat that I can do something about is something I don't want.
So is weight just a number? Only if you're skinny. Does it hold more weight then that? Only if you're fat.
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