Most people believe I’ll fail.
I’ve dieted countless times since I was a child. Finding it embarrassing to eat different foods than everyone else, I would ultimately give up after losing only a few pounds. The diets were not sustainable, because food was a much needed coping mechanism. I would agree to diet many times over the years, seeking love and approval from my mom. “You’d be so beautiful, if you were skinny,” she’d say. When I started working out and eating differently in July, she said, “I’ve been trying to get you to do this for years. What’s different now?” I told her honestly, “This time, I’m doing it for me, not for anyone else’s approval.” It’s now late December, and she still asks me, “Are you still doing your plan?” I’m like, “What plan” Irritably, she responds, “Your eating and exercise plan.” I reply, “Yes, of course I am. Why do you ask?” She responds, “You haven’t said anything about it in awhile.” So, I reply with, “It is normal for me now. There isn’t anything to talk about…” Family members who used to make comments about my weight or what I was eating have said nothing since I’ve started losing weight, while others use the fact I’m going to the doctor as an opportunity to predict medical conditions and tell me how worried they are about my health. This is AFTER I’ve been taking better care of myself for months!
Others notice changes in my body before I do.
Losing a significant amount of weight hasn’t changed my perception of myself. The difference is barely noticeable to me. I’m not sure if this is body dysmorphia (probably), or if it’s my visual impairment (possibly), or maybe it’s both? Either way, I was shocked to start getting comments, mostly from my mom and sister, about my changing physical appearance. In late July, my sister stopped by while I was wearing my workout clothes. She complimented my hourglass shape, but I just assumed she was hyping me up and that I looked different in less clothing. I was amused, but didn’t think much of it. Over the coming weeks and months, my mom and sister would comment on my butt, my legs, and my feet. The funniest comment my mom made was, “I haven’t seen you in two weeks, and now half of you is missing.”
The most meaningful victories are non-scale victories.
Since I don’t own a scale, the progress of my weight loss is measured at the doctor’s office every few months. As this number decreases, my confidence that I’m on the right track increases. The scale, however, is only one measurement of success. The important thing is not the number on the scale, but eating better, feeling better, and taking care of myself. Non-scale victories, like adjusting my watch band to fit my smaller wrist, have a much greater impact than a number ever could. My clothes are much looser now. Climbing stairs is much easier, my resting heart rate is lower, and I am less sore after workouts. I can bend over to tie my shoes, stand on one foot and use both hands to put on a sock, and put on pants without holding onto something for balance. These small differences are worth celebrating! These victories are how I measure my success!
People want me to “cheat” on my “diet” constantly.
This change was a lifestyle change, not a quick fix or something I’ll stop doing after reaching a goal. Choosing to indulge less and restricting foods are two different things. “You have to have something sweet, it’s Thanksgiving.” So? I don’t believe in cheat days or food as a reward. Any food is allowed in moderation, as long as food isn’t being used to numb or suppress feelings. Sometimes it’s easier not to indulge, and that’s okay.
My relationship with food has completely changed.
In college, Starbucks Frappuccinos were consumed almost daily. Now, they’re way too sweet. I used to drink Mountain Dew every day; now it tastes disgusting. Too much fried food makes me sick. I prefer eating at home if everyone else is ordering fast food, unless I can find something that meets my nutrition needs. Cravings for sweet treats are rare, unless it’s that time of the month. Food is no longer a reward for anything. I also don’t “deserve” or “need” foods to fit in or connect with others. It’s more about what I do, and don’t, want to put in my body.
In April, I believed I was dying. Now, I have so much more energy, I’m thinking clearer, and I’m so much happier. The number on the scale is just a bonus to eating better, feeling better, and taking better care of myself!