So I apologize ahead of time, friends, but this blog post has been swirling around in my head for a couple weeks, and it finally came to the surface last night. I endeavor to be honest with you about my journey, so this blog post is a little more serious, a little more heavy, then the usual.
I am within 20 pounds of being done with my weight loss journey. And honestly, these last 20 pounds are really about getting to a healthy BMI, and with in my weight loss range for Weight Watchers, so I can “go legit” and become a WW Leader.
I look like a Size 8, am sometimes a size 10, sometimes a size 12. My boobs are about half the size that used to be, and fairly “average” where they used to be fairly “outrageous.” I’ve lost most of my zaftig curves, trading them in for a longer, leaner runner’s body that looks much more like my mother’s than I have since high school.
I feel so much lighter. Honestly it’s like peeling layers away, heavy layers that weigh you down, make you slow and make it harder to move. Sometimes I liken it to a little motorized scooter laden down with packages. It goes faster the more stuff you take off of it, until it just zooms around on its own. I now zoom around on my own, faster and lighter and more youthful than I have ever been.
But there are moments now that I wasn’t expecting. There are these moments where I look back, or TimeHop takes me back, to a year ago or two, maybe three.
And I am ashamed of the physical and emotional state I was in. Because it’s not just the physical weight I was carrying, but the terrible eating habits, the eating too much, drinking too much and really struggling emotionally but being unwilling to help myself.
I am ashamed of where I started. And it makes me nervous about where I’m going. Not because I am worried I won’t be able to keep the weight off. I know I can do that. My concern is, if I feel this ashamed and am this determined to never go back, what will I be willing to do to avoid it?
Those TimeHop photos are haunting me.
I find myself worrying over my intake, even though my intake is exactly on plan. Because of this photos, I have pushed myself to go to the gym when I clearly should have gone home, and I have unnecessarily caused tension in my relationship because I am so rigid in my plan when I didn’t have to be.
Even as I write this blog post, I am realizing that the photos, and these feelings of shame are about where I came from, but the uneasiness comes from a place of being afraid.
I am not confident in my ability to manage my weight loss and my maintenance without being fanatical.
But I don’t want to be one of those women who spends 40 minutes analyzing every curve in her body in the mirror every morning, or who misses experiences or even quiet night snuggled up on the couch, because I’m afraid the lunch of grilled chicken and grilled vegetables is somehow going to cause me to gain 105 pounds overnight. Ultimately, I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on myself.
So I don’t have all the answers right now. I don’t know how to balance being ashamed of where I started and being profoundly grateful for where I am today. I don’t know how to balance the fear of being that heavy and uncomfortable again, with the notion but sometimes it’s OK to get a little off track.
This one is definitely “To Be Continued” but I would love for you to weigh in (pun intended) in the comments!