My big fat moment of truth
Listen, I have nothing against salad. I love the stuff -- it's a basic food group all by itself at Casa Diff. But I have this bad habit of associating the word "diet" with rabbit food ad nauseam, and it depresses me. Because I love to eat.
Once I was skinny. So skinny that in high school, a guy nicknamed me "Twiggy." I could eat a house, or two, and not gain weight. I was tall and athletic and active, and I loved to eat.
I still love to eat, but now my metabolism is on the far side of middle-aged and I'm sedentary, except for walks with the dog. A few years ago my thyroid went on strike, and although I now take thyroid replacement meds, my body wants to hang onto every fat cell and to nurture and grow them lovingly, so it can brag to all the model-thin bodies, "Look what I can do! I can store fat so I won't starve in a famine -- nyah nyah."
"Fat Actress" Kirstie Alley and I have a few things in common.
Between bouts of serious self-loathing, I fool myself into thinking that I'm basically pretty and essentially in good health, so what's the big deal? I'm just ... "curvaceous." But candid photos, clothing sizes, and rear-view glimpses in dressing-room mirrors are telling me something else. So is the scale.
The truth is that I'm a Fat Editor. Fat Mom and Wife. Fat Unhappy Woman.
So, on Monday I joined Weight Watchers and brought my bad attitude along for the ride. Having to watch what I eat annoys the crap out of me and turns me into a petulant six-year-old. I start a diet with the depressing assumption that I'll fail either in losing weight or in maintaining the loss. My experience as a human yo-yo is long and replete with angst.
Still. I will do this. I will do it because I hate the way I look. I'll do it because I'm 53 and menopausal and at risk for type 2 diabetes. I'll do it because my hips ache with bursitis, and I'd love to lace on my hockey skates and hit the rink again before I die. I'll do it because I want be around a REALLY LONG time to see our kids grown up and working and married, and maybe have a couple of grandchildren to dote on, and do some traveling when I'm retired.
Send a prayer, wish me luck, cheer me on. I'll need all the help I can get.
posted by Anonymous at
11:07 PM
1 Comments:
Only 9 years later, I comment. You expressed my situation/thoughts/feelings exactly. Still working on it after all these years. I say to myself: "All you have to do is lose about 15 pounds and you'll be healthier and feel much better about yourself." Where's my will power? It's no mystery about why I'm overweight: I, too, love food, and being a vegetarian doesn't help much in terms of weight. (No low-calorie, high-protein chicken breast or fish filet for dinner.) Since you wrote this, you've had a great deal of success, spurred on by a diagnosis (not the way anybody wants to be persuaded!). Stay healthy, Anne, and maybe someday I'll join you. But let's not hold our breath....
By
Jules, at Thu Jun 12, 09:22:00 AM EDT
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