When you really need to lose weight, you know you need to lose weight. And forgetting is impossible, because everything around you is a reminder—those jeans that used to fit, but for some reason don't anymore, skinny friends who can seemingly eat whatever they want and not gain a pound, and the big one: the mirror. Everywhere you turn, everywhere I turn, there's another subtle reminder that I'm just not good enough. Or at least, that's what it can feel like.
I know what it's like to live that struggle every day. And even after several months of intense dedication to my weight loss program, even after successfully losing 50 pounds, that "fat" girl is still inside of me. Which really makes sense, doesn't it? With our society's emphasis on looks, we've turned the notion of fat into a physical characteristic. But what about the psychological implications? Because when I was squeezing into my roomiest size 14 jeans this summer, it wasn't just my body that was unforgiving—it was also my mind. I honestly don't know how a number can determine my entire self esteem (whether it's my jeans size, or my weight), but it can, and it does. Perhaps determine isn't the proper word. Rule seems better. Yes, I've allowed numbers to rule my self-esteem since I was in junior high school. But now that the numbers are finally going down, now that I truly feel in control of my body for the first time ever, I'm doing everything I can to shatter that mindset. Because it's not just unhealthy, it's detrimental.
I've struggled with my weight for my entire life. Like most women, I've had my ups and downs, my skinny and fat moments. But there was a never a time that I could seem to get the two to balance. There was never a time when I felt like I had control of the problem. Hell, I had moments last winter when I'd look in the mirror and think: You'll be this way forever, so you'd better get used to it. But I couldn't get used to it. Day after day I'd try to dress the body I had, and love it. But day after day, I just felt fat. What I didn't see then that I see now is that "fat" really doesn't have anything to do with my thighs (which I used to hate, but am learning to love)—"fat" is a mindset. It doesn't matter what size I am if I don't love myself. And it also doesn't matter what size I am if I do.
That being said, how did I get here—50 pounds lighter with a new perspective on life? This summer, I had an immediate family member who was diagnosed with uterine cancer. This kind of cancer is both genetic and linked to obesity. The thought of inheriting something like that scared the sh*t out of me—and still does. I was destined for high blood pressure and pre-diabetes and a lifetime of not being happy with myself, and I got to the point where I just wasn't okay with that anymore.
I scheduled a physical with a doctor I'd never seen before and explained my fears. I also confessed, to this total stranger, my struggle with being overweight and that, no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get the scale to budge. I didn't know if there was something she could do, some pill or exercise regiment she could suggest, but whatever it was, I was finally willing to do it. What surprised me was her own confession that she'd struggled to lose a few pounds, and couldn't—until she signed up for Weight Watchers. She said that by tracking her food intake, she was able to slowly and healthily lose the weight. I thought, great—if it worked for her, it'll work for me.
Even so, I didn't sign up that day. It was the following day when I went to the site and read the success stories of the members. The program was actually working for real people, so maybe it could work for me, too. Still, I sat there, my fingers ready at the keyboard, contemplating why I couldn't just do this on my own without signing up for some kind of plan. It wouldn't be that hard, would it, to keep a food diary? To work out more? To see results? But if so, why hadn't I before? I swallowed down a stomach full of pride that day, and registered. And even though I didn't know it at the time, that one simple, humble decision changed my entire life.
Wow, I just took a moment to process that—what my thoughts were at the time. How I'd become so hardened that I was convinced I couldn't change. And on my own, I couldn't. But now that I have the correct tools and the proper motivation and friends to share my thoughts with, I'm a new woman.
But getting here, in new jeans with a new perspective on life, was just as arduous at the 33 years leading up to it. I'd never dieted before, not like this, and the first few days really sucked. Not because it was hard, but because I had to shift the entire way I looked at food. It was, simply put, culture shock. It was a complete life overhaul—changing what I ate, how much, when, and why.
It's important to note that while Weight Watchers has helped me lose over 50 pounds and 28.5" total inches, it was merely a tool. I didn't go to meetings, but instead used the app on my iPhone. I learned the right kinds of foods to eat in the proper portions. I was still the one making the decisions. I was still the one saying yes or no to food. I was still exercising willpower at every twist and turn.
If you're looking to lose weight, or change your life in any other way, I firmly and completely believe it's possible. But it starts with admitting that you've been making the wrong choices, and realizing that it's you—not the rest of the world—that needs to change. Once you're comfortable with that, real change will be possible.
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