Image credit: boingboing.net. All shiny and new!
When I made the decision to lose weight back in 2004, I went at it with absolute gusto — and I did it.
Perhaps because it was my first attempt ever at trying to lose, it worked like a charm.
I felt amazing. Incredible. Skinny, even. (Technically, I never was “skinny” but you know what I mean; I felt it).
As I “found” hidden body parts that now were much clearer on my leaner frame (ribs, hip bones, collar bones), I thought I was ‘da bomb.
I could work out longer. I was rarely sick. My clothes started falling off. A solid 14/12 depending on the store, I pretty much skipped the 10s and 8s and went right into 6s and sometimes, a 4. It was constant change for eight months.
But now that I’ve more or less been in this body (with some added padding) for four+ years, it’s hard to feel that “high” I felt back in the beginning.
I’ve been blaming it on the fact that I’ve put on about 7-10 lbs. from my lowest, but the truth is, that “low” might not have been maintainable in the long haul (without too much extra work). And even more than that … the shininess of my transformed body has just worn off. It’s not new anymore.
People who know me here in Michigan only know me “this way.” Whether I want to admit it or not, my “chubby-girl” persona has been gone a long time now … and yet I’m still clinging to it in a way when I beat myself up about these added pounds.
Maybe my body isn’t perfect, but it’s respectable. Sure, I haven’t been lifting much and my arms aren’t great, and I have accepted that my thighs will always be big (yet strong!!), but I don’t have the dreaded muffin top so many women have, and my shoulders and hour-glass shape are pretty ok … props for that, right?!
Part of what made weight loss so exciting (before the disordered behaviors began, I might add) was that I wasn’t obsessed (just excited!) and week after week, kept seeing results. Now, over four years later, I’m obsessed and see no results, week after week. Hm…
A good friend reminded me this weekend that while I may not be back at “my goal,” (where I think I should be) I might be very well where my body is naturally happy. It took me a few minutes to get the simplicity of what she was saying, and once I did … it did make sense.
Evidence?
I’ve maintained this same weight range, more or less, for the past almost three years, after being at goal for just one year. (Having been heavy my whole life, I had no idea what “goal” would be or look like).
I was 24 when I lost the weight; now I’m 29, and my body has changed some.
I still exercise religiously and eat well. Weeks where I eat more, I don’t always gain. And weeks where I eat a lot less, I don’t necessarily lose.
This isn’t to say I am giving up entirely … I still want to try for 145 again.
But if by the end of the year, I haven’t made any progress, I might have to just accept myself as I am.
It certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Knowing that I’m fitter and healthier than I was at my heaviest, and I’ve reduced my risk for various diseases through my lifestyle change. Realizing that some of my 6s are tight and sometimes I have to buy an 8, but it isn’t some grand tragedy.
Cathy, a friend and regular reader of my blog, shared this article with me that ties into this theme of acceptance, “Things You Can Stop Worrying About Right Now”. Here’s an excerpt:
I have a bad feeling: I’m never going to lose this weight. You can’t put all your emotional eggs in the weight loss basket. People say, “I’ll be happy when I reach this size…,” but that’s a problem, because either you don’t reach the goal, or you do—and you’re no happier than you were 40 pounds ago. Then you ask yourself why you did all this work, you go back to the way you were before, and the lose-gain-lose cycle begins.
Instead of worrying about the future, work toward leading a fulfilled life today. Eating right and exercising are my two fields, but when I meet with a client, I ask her about the things that really hold the secret to her success—what the most important areas of her life are, and how she feels about each one.
So do a little self-discovery. Look at what brings you joy and what isn’t going so well. Have a life plan as opposed to a weight plan. Finally, set realistic goals, or you’re bound to fail. Adjust your thinking about what’s healthy for you, given your genetics. Some of the healthiest people on the planet are heavier than what we claim is the ideal. Being realistic is not only important, it’s empowering. — Bob Greene, author of The Best Life Diet
Definitely some good points there.
How about you? Once you lost the weight, did you struggle with accepting your new body? If you gained a little, did you also automatically think it meant you were destined to be heavy again? And how have you dealt?
Image credit: boingboing.net. All shiny and new!
Perhaps because it was my first attempt ever at trying to lose, it worked like a charm.
I felt amazing. Incredible. Skinny, even. (Technically, I never was “skinny” but you know what I mean; I felt it).
As I “found” hidden body parts that now were much clearer on my leaner frame (ribs, hip bones, collar bones), I thought I was ‘da bomb.
I could work out longer. I was rarely sick. My clothes started falling off. A solid 14/12 depending on the store, I pretty much skipped the 10s and 8s and went right into 6s and sometimes, a 4. It was constant change for eight months.
But now that I’ve more or less been in this body (with some added padding) for four+ years, it’s hard to feel that “high” I felt back in the beginning.
I’ve been blaming it on the fact that I’ve put on about 7-10 lbs. from my lowest, but the truth is, that “low” might not have been maintainable in the long haul (without too much extra work). And even more than that … the shininess of my transformed body has just worn off. It’s not new anymore.
People who know me here in Michigan only know me “this way.” Whether I want to admit it or not, my “chubby-girl” persona has been gone a long time now … and yet I’m still clinging to it in a way when I beat myself up about these added pounds.
Maybe my body isn’t perfect, but it’s respectable. Sure, I haven’t been lifting much and my arms aren’t great, and I have accepted that my thighs will always be big (yet strong!!), but I don’t have the dreaded muffin top so many women have, and my shoulders and hour-glass shape are pretty ok … props for that, right?!
Part of what made weight loss so exciting (before the disordered behaviors began, I might add) was that I wasn’t obsessed (just excited!) and week after week, kept seeing results. Now, over four years later, I’m obsessed and see no results, week after week. Hm…
A good friend reminded me this weekend that while I may not be back at “my goal,” (where I think I should be) I might be very well where my body is naturally happy. It took me a few minutes to get the simplicity of what she was saying, and once I did … it did make sense.
Evidence?
I’ve maintained this same weight range, more or less, for the past almost three years, after being at goal for just one year. (Having been heavy my whole life, I had no idea what “goal” would be or look like).
I was 24 when I lost the weight; now I’m 29, and my body has changed some.
I still exercise religiously and eat well. Weeks where I eat more, I don’t always gain. And weeks where I eat a lot less, I don’t necessarily lose.
This isn’t to say I am giving up entirely … I still want to try for 145 again.
But if by the end of the year, I haven’t made any progress, I might have to just accept myself as I am.
It certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Knowing that I’m fitter and healthier than I was at my heaviest, and I’ve reduced my risk for various diseases through my lifestyle change. Realizing that some of my 6s are tight and sometimes I have to buy an 8, but it isn’t some grand tragedy.
Cathy, a friend and regular reader of my blog, shared this article with me that ties into this theme of acceptance, “Things You Can Stop Worrying About Right Now”. Here’s an excerpt:
I have a bad feeling: I’m never going to lose this weight. You can’t put all your emotional eggs in the weight loss basket. People say, “I’ll be happy when I reach this size…,” but that’s a problem, because either you don’t reach the goal, or you do—and you’re no happier than you were 40 pounds ago. Then you ask yourself why you did all this work, you go back to the way you were before, and the lose-gain-lose cycle begins.
Instead of worrying about the future, work toward leading a fulfilled life today. Eating right and exercising are my two fields, but when I meet with a client, I ask her about the things that really hold the secret to her success—what the most important areas of her life are, and how she feels about each one.
So do a little self-discovery. Look at what brings you joy and what isn’t going so well. Have a life plan as opposed to a weight plan. Finally, set realistic goals, or you’re bound to fail. Adjust your thinking about what’s healthy for you, given your genetics. Some of the healthiest people on the planet are heavier than what we claim is the ideal. Being realistic is not only important, it’s empowering. — Bob Greene, author of The Best Life Diet
Definitely some good points there.
How about you? Once you lost the weight, did you struggle with accepting your new body? If you gained a little, did you also automatically think it meant you were destined to be heavy again? And how have you dealt?