I Did Not Think I Was Worthy

This past weekend I attended a Christmas party.  I had bought a dress for the event.  It was something I had not wanted to wear a dress in a very long time.  I took a chance wearing the dress.  I was not sure I could pull it off.  I doubted myself.  I worried about wearing it.  I did not think I was yet worthy of being able to dress like I have wanted to all my life but didn’t because I did not think I was worthy.  I believed that because I was so obese that dressing fun was not an option.  Big women should not show as much skin, or cleavage or dare think that it was ok to wear cute stuff.  I was not going to live up to all the pretty people at the party on Saturday so why bother.  And then I said to hell with it.  I AM WEARING THE DRESS.

There is something deeply sad about the things that I used to and still think and say about myself.  It is terribly saddening to me that I cannot get these thoughts out of my head and what is even sadder is that I have had these thoughts since I was a little girl.  I talked to myself like I was the enemy.  I judge myself all the time on being too big.  Recently in a dressing room I sat by myself and looked at my stomach and thought for just a moment, I have lost 60 pounds and I am still huge, so what is the point.  I was frustrated because my body does not look the way it used to and I could not find anything that fit or looked good on my body as it was for this period of time.  I know the problem is that I was still trying to put this new body in to the same clothes that I used to wear.  It was frustrating and for several minutes I hated myself.  I sat on the chair wondering why, even in success, I found failure.

I had a grandmother that lived with me growing up.  She was my father’s mother.  She was not a happy person and she did not like me.  You see, I laughed a little too loud, I said what I thinking, and I wanted to happy more than anything in my life.  She was miserable.  I learned later in life that she never thought her mother loved her.  That she was once happy but something had changed in her during WWII.  She never hugged or smiled which was the opposite of my other grandmother.  We called her Gramma Bea.  She would bake cookies all the time.  I don’t mean a dozen at a time.  She baked dozens at a time.  Then she would hoard them and only give them to me when she thought I was being good but her definition of good.  She used food as weapon.  She would pinch my stomach and tell me I was fat.  She would pinch my arms and tell the same thing.  She would say to me “Go ahead and eat a cookie, your face will get so big no one will want to look at you.”  She would call me chubby, fat, rotund, pudgy, and any other word she could use to wound me. She would moan about having to shop for me at Sears in the Pretty Plus section for girls.  I don’t know what I did to her.  Perhaps I reminded her of someone in her past that had hurt her. Maybe I was too much like my mother.  She was supposed to love me but to me she hated me.  I would eat even though it was the one thing she did not want me to do. I hear all that she said to me and more in my head.

It wasn’t just Gramma Bea that said things like this to me.  Kids in school were cruel as well.  When you are as tall as I am and a bit overweight they zero in on the insecurities that I could not hide.  Add in a divorce and those awkward years and the recipe for self hate equals to lots of emotional eating and weight gain.  My school would do the yearly weigh in with all of us lined up and the nurse would call out the weights.  That was not fun.  I remember I was 209 in the 8^th grade weigh in. When the nurse announced my weight all the girls started laughing.  I was crushed.  I look back on photos of me then and I think how anyone could have thought I was fat.  I was a softball player and on the track and field team.  I was muscular and fit and I was about 20 pounds overweight. That moment is clearly locked in to my brain.  It was humiliating.  I went home and ate because I was so ashamed of my body.

And then the topics of worth became an issue.  I did not think I was worthy of love.  My mother once told my brother that she hoped he would find someone that he loved, and that she hoped that I would find someone that would take care of me.  I looked and her and asked if she thought I was not worthy of love.  She back peddled but I don’t think she thought love would be mine to have.  So I dated boys and men that did not love me as much as I loved them.  I married young and quick because I was probably afraid that I would not find anyone else.  He even ended up telling me I was too fat for him when we got divorced.  It was shot in anger but I am sure there was some truth to it.  It took a long time for me to like myself.  My next relationship was a total rebound disaster and I picked the wrong person again.  I stayed single a long time and thankfully I know I got it right this time.

This journey of losing weight is so much more powerful than I ever expected it to be.  There is a lot that happens when we overeat.  We cannot just work on the food.  We have to explore the why and how we eat and what food means to us.  We have to forgive the little girls and boys that live in us that only want to be loved.  My grandmother has been dead almost 15 years and there is still a part of me that just wants to hear her tell me she loves me.  There is a part of me that wants those girls in grade school to say they are sorry.  There is a part of me that wants to hear my ex-husband say he loved me no matter what my size was.  They are not going to do that for me.  I have to do that for me. There is no one else to do it for me.  I have to fix the little girl in me.  I have to also say it is ok for me to goof up.

I have to say I am worthy of it all.  I AM WORTHY OF LOVE, SUCCESS, HOPE, HAPPINESS, STRENGTH, AND RESPECT.   TO LOVE MY BODY NO MATTER HOW I AM NOW AND HOW I WILL BE AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.

To release myself I am going to write out all the things I say to myself now and in the past.  I am putting it to rest.  Does not mean it won’t come out again but I will know it when I hear it. 

I don’t think I can do ____________ because I am too fat.

If only I would lose weight I would be so much attractive.

No fat chicks allowed.

I hate my ___________ (insert any body part here).

I am worthless.

No will care how big I will get.

I hate my body.

I look stupid.

I look fat.

My ass is huge.

I can’t wear a dress, I will look ridiculous.

I will never find any clothes that will look good on me.

I can’t wear a swimsuit, no one wants to see me on a beach or at the pool like this.

How could I be so stupid and eat all that food.

I will never be able to lose enough weight to make a difference.

I ate _______(insert food here) so I might as well eat crappy the rest of the day.

No one will ever love me.

 Goodbye bad thoughts. 

 Hello Rose, you are wonderful, beautiful, determined, happy, loved, and you will be a success.

The Feeling of Defeat

For the first time in this weight loss journey I felt a bit of defeat this weekend.  I should probably not feel this way since I have lost over 60 pounds so far on this journey.  I should feel good about things all the time.  But sometimes I don't feel that way.  Sometimes I feel frustrated by the process.  Here is why.

I don't know how to dress anymore.  Seriously.  I don't.  I have lost a lot of inches in my waist and hips but not so much in my stomach.  My spare tire is more prominent then it has ever been.  It will be the last area that will slim down.  I know this.  The notion that you lose weight in certain places is not accurate.  You lose weight all around but the thinner spots look thinner faster.  So that is why my face looks thinner.  And probably my hips and waist. 

Trying on clothes this weekend was a mess.  I am resolved to the idea that I will have to continue to buy larger size for my tops then my bottoms.  I want to shop in stores that don't have plus in its title.  I really want to make that leap but not yet.  I did have a small victory.  I went in to the Tommy Hilfiger store and was able to put on a pair of their size 18s.  I could not button them but I pulled them up which was something.  It will be a while until I can wear those.

I know that this is only temporary.  My body will get where it needs to go.  I will make it.  How can I not?  There is nothing I want more then to reach this goal.  Everyday I hear from the women on my Facebook group that are inspired by little old me.  I never thought I could do that for anyone but myself.  I can't let them down but more importantly I cannot let myself down.  The feeling of defeat will pass as it always does.  I cannot let it take over my internal thoughts.  I will move on.  My body will change.  And that is a good thing.

The Possible Impossible

I wouldn’t say anything is impossible. I think that everything is possible as long as you put your mind to it and put the work and time into it.  - Michael Phelps

Sitting in the midst of my self loathing, shame, and low self esteem 6 months ago I would have told you that it would have been impossible for me to lose 60 pounds in 5 months.  I would have told you that it would impossible for me to feel better, for my knees not to hurt, and that I would never be able to walk up stairs without holding on to the handrails.  I also would have told you that it would be impossible for me to ever fit in to a wedding dress let alone look pretty in it.

All of my impossibles are being not just possible but real.  I walked up a flight of stairs without using the handrails yesterday.  It can only mean that my knees are feeling better and getting stronger.  I have a wedding dress that looks better and better every time I put it on.  I have lost 60 pounds.  I have a new definition of impossible.  It just means I need to work at it and make it my possible.

The journey goes on and every day is a new day to find my next impossible and to crush it.

The Look That Changed Everything

For a few months now I have been trying to pin point the moment that everything changed.  The moment that broke me and I decided that I needed to change my life.  My fiance' Tim says that our trip to Arkansas over Memorial Day weekend was the turning point.  Something on the plane ride home changed something in me. I have been thinking and thinking about this and then it finally hit me a few days ago.

The back story to get to this story is important.  You see my mother has two siblings.  My Aunt Angela and my Uncle Albee.  Angela is not a part of the family.  She is not someone that I want to have in my life and I am pretty sure she does not want me in hers.  I have not spoken to her in 20 years.  My Uncle on the other hand is a wonderful addition to my life. My mother practically raised him when he was younger and pretty much considered his sons grandsons.  

 My mother was a funny, bold, intelligent, and loving person.  She loved everyone but she really did not love herself.  She never took care of physical being.  She ate what she wanted and I don't ever remember her exercising.  She could walk for miles when she was feeling great but she was in pain.  Eventually she had diabetes and she died at age 56.  Only 12 years older then I am now.  When she died I know my Uncle was devastated.  I know he misses her and thinks of her all the time.

On this trip to Arkansas we went to his home and visited for a few hours.  It was this visit that changed my life.  We drove up the music store where he teaches and I got out of the car.  I saw the look on his face.  I know he did not mean to make a face and I am sure he did not even know he did it but it was there.  In a millisecond his face said it all.  I look a lot like my mother and I can only think that he saw his sister in my large, round face. And the look was a look of fear.  I did not think of it at the time but it stuck with me in my subconsciousness.  On the plane ride home, I saw the look again. To me I saw Albee see his dead sister in my obese body.  I knew on the plane I did not want to die.  I did not want my brother to miss his sister.  I can't control what will happen to me as I go through life but I can control what I eat and how much I weight.  My brother deserves to have his sister for more then just the next 12 years.  And my Uncle needs to have me around to remember the good things about his sister in my health and long life.

He won't know he saved my life until he reads this blog post.  When we see each other next at my wedding party in July, the after of the photo posted here will be a moment of love and health.  Which we both deserve and I will forever thank him for giving me a look that changed my life.

The Dreaded Tray Table

This past weekend I flew to Houston, Texas to watch my fiance give a presentation at a Toastmasters conference.  I was excited to fly.  I knew that I would not need the seat belt extender because I did not need one back in September.  I was thrilled about that.  I was hoping to reach one more milestone.

Our flight was delayed for a couple hours so we took our time getting to the airport.  We waited for our flight and we learned that it was not going to be very full.  This meant some extra space for us.  I love when there is no one in the middle seat.

Most of my adult life I have had to use someone else's tray table.  The reason was simple.  I was just too fat to put the tray table down.  It would hit my stomach and just be there at an angle.  I would rather have not put it down.  This meant that I would juggle my drink, my book or tablet and then stuff the empty glass in to the seat pocket.  It was always embarrassing.  I hated myself for being so big that I could not use my own tray table.  I would have to ask strangers to let me use the corner of thier tray. 

This time the tray table went down.  Without resting on my stomach.  I turned to my fiance and said "Look, the tray table!"  He looked at me with a strange look on his face.  I gave him that look that we all give to someone who does not know how to read our minds or understand what we are saying.  He smiled at me, "That is super."

I was beaming inside and out.  I was thrilled that the tray table went down.  I cannot wait to be able to cross my legs in an airline seat although at 5' 11" it might be hard to do but I am going to try.

So from now on I may not be willing to put the tray table in the upright position because I am so thrilled I can get it in its down position.  

The Happiness Factor

I spent some time looking through classmates blog.  I have done a couple of peer reviews for Teresa and I really found her writing interesting.  I decided on her blog for those reasons. I love the stories that people share.  It is why I am a Toastmaster.  The speeches that people give about their lives are the most interesting to me.  Angela has been keeping me interested since the first opportunity that I had to read her assignments.

The idea that sparked my interest the most was her concept of happy.  The photo of her family is a reflection of happiness for her.  This time in my life has been the most happy for me in my 44 years.  I am often worried that it won't last because life has not always been so easy and good.  I am getting married to the man I have been waiting for my whole life, I have a great job and I am making more money then I ever thought possible, I have a nice home, a great car, and I am getting healthy by losing weight and being active.  It is so great to be in this place.  I struggle with the happy factor so I am really interesting in exploring this concept with my own writing.

My blog is evolving.  I tackle all kinds of concepts in my wellness journey.  I have lost weight and it is surprising to me that here are days that I see and feel and other days that I don't which impacts my general happiness. There will be another post on this topic because it is very timely for me.  

I love the design.  The birds are great.  I want to update mine.  You might see that change too. I think the birds may be a symbol of some of things she is letting go.  Releasing herself in to the world by writing.  

Not Ashamed of Who I Was

I was asked the other day if I hated the way I looked or who I was before I lost some of my weight.  The answer is no.  I am not ashamed of who I was or what I have done in the past.

I was once described as engagingly perky.  My general disposition is I am a rather happy and upbeat person.  Actually I was once told by a boss that because I was so happy all the time that I could not be unhappy.  I was actually written up for having a bad day.  I left that job soon after that.  I am a self described cynical optimist.  Yup, there is a snarky, smarty pants side to my happy disposition.  I like the irony of life along with a attitude that everything will eventually work out.

If I look at most of the photos of me over the last few years, one thing stands out - my smile.  I had the opportunity to meet author and leadership expert John Maxwell.  He told me that I had a million watt smile and it was no wonder people followed me as I lead a volunteer organization a few years ago.  I bank on that smile and it gets me through so much.

I look at the photos of me from just 5 months ago and I know that in many ways I was very happy.  In others I was not.  I am not ashamed of the choices I made all the years that I kept those 55 pounds on.  And I hope that after I lose another 133 I will feel the same way.  I had to get to this point for a reason.  It was meant to happen now.

There is never any shame in being obese, overweight, thin, or just right. I think everyone is beautiful.  How people live their lives is totally up to them.  I decided to live another way.  I could have stayed the same and still found happiness.  It was all up to me to decide.  

Never be ashamed of who you are or what you look like.  If you want to change, great.  If you don't want to change, great. Just be happy in the decision you make and the life you live.  Being happy makes life so wonderful.