Confessions

I just recently lost a lot of weight. I do not intend to get into how much, what I weigh, or how I did it. But what I will say is that I lost it all this summer, relatively quickly and it didn't involve surgery (I am too chicken) or becoming a speed-freak. Why bring it up? you might ask. Justifiably so. But there is a reason to my madness.

This isn't a "weight loss" blog, so I don't plan on getting into particulars. Bless all those ladies out there who do. Their courage amazes me. The truth is I am chicken to show before pictures. I am embarrassed to tell my beginning weight. And really? I have just lost it, I haven't maintained it for more than six weeks so I don't consider myself any kind of expert. But what I am? 14 weeks later? I am proud of myself. And I guess in my own little way, I want to let people know that of the million things I didn't accomplish this summer? I got something done that has been on my list for at least 5 years. I was never able to accomplish this much or come this far  no matter how hard I tried. And dammit, I am proud of myself.

I have "sacrificed" all summer long. I have had iron clad willpower. I have sipped on lemon water while everyone else ordered delicious looking menu items.  I missed having 'fair food' at no less than 3 county fairs (possibly a good thing), opting to bring a lunch cooler with me everywhere I went containing the likes of cucumber with mustard chicken, garlic lemon shrimp, sliced apples, and blueberries. I passed up wine at the monthly wine picnics, not to mention all the goodies brought by all my friends. I GAVE UP CHEESE, for the love of Mike!

In retrospect, it really wasn't that hard. Willpower. Food creativity. Sticking to it. Yeah, my stomach growled at me. Yeah, I got really tired of grilled chicken on a spinach salad. Yeah, I could never eat a grapefruit again and be happy. And having to plan every last meal, and needing to know what lunch was so I could get dinner started.  But what was hard? Was accepting in my own brain what was going on. It took me weeks to catch my brain up with where my body was. I'm honestly not sure I am there now.
 
I have been resisting the past several weeks. Fighting an urge to post about my loss and pat myself on the back until today. In the shower (of course), it occurred to me that it just isn't about that. I feel compelled to share this because I am changing. I am happier. I feel good about myself in the longest time. But my brain? Still doesn't get it. After my first 6 weeks' loss (which was really significant), I went into my closet thinking that everything in there probably still fit me. It took a friend saying "Girl, you need to start wearing some skinny clothes" to make me see that it didn't. I literally went through my closet and tried on every single thing until there was a pile of clothes as tall as me needing to be donated or otherwise recycled. Only then did I start getting that it was real. It was happening. People gave me clothes to fit and cover the in-between times. That was 8 weeks ago.  I have put on pair after pair of jeans this week and had to toss them in the new pile of donations. Finally last night, I went through every item in my closet again. Another pile waist high, including most of the clothing that was given to me not two months ago. And still, it is hard for me to grasp.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means finished with my journey. And I have been so lucky to have support and encouragement from those around me. Specifically my husband, but also my 2 friends Amy and Debbie, who I told when I told no one else, and later from all my friends when it became obvious what I was doing, and most of my family. My mom of course, being who she is, expressed her disapproval of the quick losses in the beginning, waiting to tell me how proud she was until it was obvious I wasn't kidding about it this time.

But this whole process really makes me think about self-perception. When I was thin, in my younger life, I always felt fat. When I was heavy, I never saw how fat I was, I saw myself as bigger than average. And when I was fighting so hard to change, I was utterly unable to see and acknowledge the progress I was making. Even writing this today I can admit that were it not for the hoodie I put on today? The one that wrapped all the way around me? Yeah, I still wouldn't believe how much I had changed. So I started thinking during my shower, maybe it is like that with a lot of things in life. You can make changes in your life, but how long does it take you to "see" them? Or believe them? And accept them? Things like turning your life around, making a decision about a marriage ending or beginning. Accepting or leaving the church. Starting a new career. Moving to a new town and trying to fit in. Is it just a "fake it till you make it" situation?  Life is change. So why does it take us so long to catch up? Or is it just me?