I am not a small person. I've been overweight all my life - or at least told I was. And when you're told something enough, eventually you live into it. It's funny to look back at photos of my childhood. My tummy was not flat, but I had opportunity to be healthier. It wasn't the feed in my head though. I was fat. And now, I am fat.
Here's the thing about my fatness...I'm ok with it. I've lived so long in this body that I accept me. I think having babies will do that too. I no longer have any secrets about my vessel.
Because I'm ok with my body, I don't feel a strong pull to do much about it. I also realize that life expectancy for overweight and obese people is shorter. Last research reflects eight years shorter. Because I now have babies and my life could be made shorter, I feel suddenly feel that pull.
I decided more than a year ago that I would look into weight loss surgery. Looking back, it wasn't my idea, but that's another story. I pursued it with passion and focused on my eating for the six months my insurance company required of me. I lost over 50lbs and have kept most off. I had an epiphany prior to setting the date that my goal is to extend my life. Going under for an elective medical procedure could actually cause me to miss my goal. What if something went wrong? I would have made no positive impact on my situation. In fact, the complete opposite would be true. I decided to go it alone.
Of course, then life happened. I moved home, moved offices, moved away from my researched healthy eating spots and was surrounded by fast food. I was no longer losing or maintaining. I was gaining. I've gained a total of 20 lbs since I've been home - a little less than a year. I've felt a tug for about six months to do something about what I was seeing, but honestly, I barely survive some days. Eating healthy and focusing on myself in that way just seemed too big.
In walks a small group of Weight Watchers advocates. Quietly, people in my life were counting points each day. Slowly, I was hearing of inches and pounds lost. And then there were these two little boys who really want a mommy who plays with them...and if you have boys you know that's not for the weak.
I jumped in. With great support from my girlfriends, I count points, consume ungodly amounts of water and carry post-it notes with me to restaurants...all in the name of weight loss. And you know what? It's working pretty well. I'm down approximately six pounds in my short run. I'm feeling better. I bought workout shoes. (easy, I'm not there yet) And most importantly, I began to listen. And you know what I heard? I heard God. I heard him through my friends and my family. I heard that I'm important. I matter. My boys need me. I deserve to feel good...and SO much more!
So, in honor of those of you who have gone before me, those of you currently on this journey with me and those of you considering the journey, I tell you I'm committed! I'll cheer on each of you as I'm learning others will do for me.
I offer thanks to each of you involved in inspiring me. Knowingly or not, you may have helped me have eight years more with my children and perhaps my children's children. I'm forever grateful.
The title of this post is dedicated to my BFF who loves when alliterative spellings are changed. Love you!
