I have no idea what happened to me, but a few weeks ago I suddenly became a person who Works Out. As in I get up every morning at 6am, put on my sneakers and follow along to a DVD featuring a woman with a darling Australian accent who encourages me to listen to my body because it is my coach. Well, if it's my coach, then it has apparently decided it is time for me to get my rear in gear, to borrow a phrase from my middle school gym teacher. So I work out in the mornings and then, a few times a week, I go out and take 5 mile walks with my coworker. My coworker walks fast, and is tall with long legs. I do not walk fast, and I have stubby legs, so these walks sometimes kick my ass. But I feel so awesome afterwards. (Good thing, too, since we're going to have to up those walks soon since we're doing the Breast Cancer 3-Day in November.)
When I work out a lot, I can't really stand the idea of putting junk food into my body. Which means that on top of all this working out, I'm suddenly eating all kinds of fruits and salad and protein. I go out to lunch and I don't finish my sensible meals of grilled chicken and salads. And I'm not snacking as much and my sweet tooth is suddenly disappearing and so you know what happened?
I lost 8 pounds in 3 weeks. When I saw my doctor last week, she walked into the exam room and said "Well hello, skinny!" because I had lost 7 pounds since she saw me last month. (Sidenote: Have I mentioned that I love my PCP? She's tiny and awesome and so, so, SO supportive and she actually knows lots about WLS because weight management is one of her areas of interest. I kind of want to have her babies.) My jeans are fitting a little looser, I'm starting to be able to wear shirts I put away after the weight gain from the wrist debacle, and my skin looks better than it ever has. In other words, things are AWESOME right now and I am kicking ass at this whole weight loss thing. I am totally regaining my Healthy Fat Girl status.
There's a part of me that thinks that maybe, just maybe, I should just rethink this WLS thing. I mean hell, I'm doing so well! Maybe I can keep doing this, the eating salads and avoiding cupcakes and saying no to piles of hot, buttery sourdough toast. I'm a fat, hot, buttery piece of gorgeousness just the way I am, and I'm healthy and happy and doing great at this whole living life thing.
That last sentence is totally true. I believe it with all my heart, and I am having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that I am about to do this big, giant thing that's going to make me not fat, and probably not buttery. And I wonder sometimes, how can I call myself a proponent of fat acceptance when I am about to do the one thing that's pretty much guaranteed to make me not fat? I know I'm doing this for my health. I'm doing it for my tired knees that really want to keep doing those 60 mile walks but won't be able to for much longer if they keep having to haul around 300 pounds. I'm doing it for my heart, which would very much like to keep beating for another 60 years but probably won't if I don't make its job a little easier. I'm doing it for my feet, which love how cute they look in those 4 inch heels but will probably start getting bone spurs if I don't lighten their load.
But that's not what most people think when they hear that someone has had or is planning to have WLS. They think people just want to get skinny. I have a group of acquaintances in my circle of friends that belong to NAAFA and are proudly fat. And more power to them, because these women have got self-confidence and moxie up the yin yang. They are not people I see often enough to know them well enough to feel comfortable discussing this whole thing with them. And I'm sure that they will assume that I did it to get skinny, and I'm pretty damn sure that they will assume that I hated being fat, and therefore, I hate fat people.
I worry that I will have to make more of an effort to let the world know that I think people of all shapes and sizes should be accepted exactly as they are. I worry that fat girls will look at me and think I'm a Skinny Bitch. I worry that my fat friends will think I want them to have the surgery too, that I'm judging them for not doing it. And I'm worried that they will judge me for doing it.
That last bit is why I haven't even really been telling anyone about this sudden change in behavior, this fantastic turnaround that has weight dropping off of me, because I figure if I tell anyone, they'll suggest that I not do the WLS. But what they don't know is that I've done this before. I've lost the weight before and then I've gained it back. And it invited some friends to join it. And I know how I am, and I know how my body is, and I know that this is the best way for me to lose the 150 pounds I need to lose. Need, not want.
I need to do this. Now if I could just get over the fact that I feel like I'm betraying every fat girl out there, that I'm betraying the fat girlfriends who have told me that they wish I had my self confidence, that they love how just out there I am. It's a hard thing to reconcile, and I wish that someone would just tell me how to do it before I end up driving myself crazy.
Well, crazier.
When I work out a lot, I can't really stand the idea of putting junk food into my body. Which means that on top of all this working out, I'm suddenly eating all kinds of fruits and salad and protein. I go out to lunch and I don't finish my sensible meals of grilled chicken and salads. And I'm not snacking as much and my sweet tooth is suddenly disappearing and so you know what happened?
I lost 8 pounds in 3 weeks. When I saw my doctor last week, she walked into the exam room and said "Well hello, skinny!" because I had lost 7 pounds since she saw me last month. (Sidenote: Have I mentioned that I love my PCP? She's tiny and awesome and so, so, SO supportive and she actually knows lots about WLS because weight management is one of her areas of interest. I kind of want to have her babies.) My jeans are fitting a little looser, I'm starting to be able to wear shirts I put away after the weight gain from the wrist debacle, and my skin looks better than it ever has. In other words, things are AWESOME right now and I am kicking ass at this whole weight loss thing. I am totally regaining my Healthy Fat Girl status.
There's a part of me that thinks that maybe, just maybe, I should just rethink this WLS thing. I mean hell, I'm doing so well! Maybe I can keep doing this, the eating salads and avoiding cupcakes and saying no to piles of hot, buttery sourdough toast. I'm a fat, hot, buttery piece of gorgeousness just the way I am, and I'm healthy and happy and doing great at this whole living life thing.
That last sentence is totally true. I believe it with all my heart, and I am having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that I am about to do this big, giant thing that's going to make me not fat, and probably not buttery. And I wonder sometimes, how can I call myself a proponent of fat acceptance when I am about to do the one thing that's pretty much guaranteed to make me not fat? I know I'm doing this for my health. I'm doing it for my tired knees that really want to keep doing those 60 mile walks but won't be able to for much longer if they keep having to haul around 300 pounds. I'm doing it for my heart, which would very much like to keep beating for another 60 years but probably won't if I don't make its job a little easier. I'm doing it for my feet, which love how cute they look in those 4 inch heels but will probably start getting bone spurs if I don't lighten their load.
But that's not what most people think when they hear that someone has had or is planning to have WLS. They think people just want to get skinny. I have a group of acquaintances in my circle of friends that belong to NAAFA and are proudly fat. And more power to them, because these women have got self-confidence and moxie up the yin yang. They are not people I see often enough to know them well enough to feel comfortable discussing this whole thing with them. And I'm sure that they will assume that I did it to get skinny, and I'm pretty damn sure that they will assume that I hated being fat, and therefore, I hate fat people.
I worry that I will have to make more of an effort to let the world know that I think people of all shapes and sizes should be accepted exactly as they are. I worry that fat girls will look at me and think I'm a Skinny Bitch. I worry that my fat friends will think I want them to have the surgery too, that I'm judging them for not doing it. And I'm worried that they will judge me for doing it.
That last bit is why I haven't even really been telling anyone about this sudden change in behavior, this fantastic turnaround that has weight dropping off of me, because I figure if I tell anyone, they'll suggest that I not do the WLS. But what they don't know is that I've done this before. I've lost the weight before and then I've gained it back. And it invited some friends to join it. And I know how I am, and I know how my body is, and I know that this is the best way for me to lose the 150 pounds I need to lose. Need, not want.
I need to do this. Now if I could just get over the fact that I feel like I'm betraying every fat girl out there, that I'm betraying the fat girlfriends who have told me that they wish I had my self confidence, that they love how just out there I am. It's a hard thing to reconcile, and I wish that someone would just tell me how to do it before I end up driving myself crazy.
Well, crazier.
2 Comments:
Oh, hey, hey ... I don't know if this will help you - but me not typing it won't have the potential to help at all - so here it goes.
Your fat is not you. It is fat, a collection of energy your body stored for you in case you fall upon some hard times later. Your body is crafty, but it is also not you - it is a tool for you to use to survive the day and to succeed in the tasks that are before you.
You are you. If you are "out there" and self-confident and full of goals and ambitions and love for yourself, that isn't dependent on how much fat your body has you walking around with in case of famine later. By demanding that your body live up to the plans you have for you, you aren't failing anyone.
Don't drive yourself crazy. It's all going to be ok. Not easy, but ok.
"I'm a fat, hot, buttery piece of gorgeousness just the way I am, and I'm healthy and happy and doing great at this whole living life thing."
I love this. SO, so much.
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