I’ve had a bit of a rude awakening over the past few days. Rather unpleasant, really.
I saw a picture of myself.
I’ve been “heavy” for most of my life. An overweight, pleasantly plump, zaftig, full-figured, big-boned, plus-sized, larger than life, big girl.
There have been some times when I was slimmer. Weight Watchers, Atkins Diet, Richard Simmons, Dexatrim, Adderral, running, Pilates, Jazzercise. Tried them all, and they all worked. For a while, anyway.
But my perception of the way I looked was always skewed. I thought I was the most rotund and disgusting thing on Earth when I was in high school, but that’s not what I see when I look at pictures from back then. I was actually kind of hot. I had a great ass. A small waist. An hourglass figure.
Okay, a large hourglass, but an hourglass nonetheless.
Not that anyone knew it. I always hid in oversized clothes because I didn’t see myself as curvy or sexy. I just saw myself as fat, no matter how many people tried to tell me otherwise.
Now, all of these years later, my twisted perception of my appearance has somehow twisted in the opposite direction. I no longer see myself as larger than I am; instead, I have moved directly into the land of Bigass Denial.
I thought I was still just “heavy”. I didn’t realize I had crossed that line. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that everything was still proportional, just bigger. I congratulated myself on being a BBW with a curvy, plus-sized, womanly shape.
Then I saw the picture this week of my son’s pre-school graduation party. There I was, in my favorite lavender top – the one I always feel pretty in — standing in the back of the room.
It wasn’t a bad picture or an unflattering angle. Forget that the camera adds 10 pounds; there is no blaming the camera for that picture. Or the photographer. Or the outfit.
So, breaking my neck two years ago has slowed me down. It’s not like I was super active before that point, but at least it was my choice back then. Now my exercise options are limited. But that’s still not an excuse for sitting on my ass for the last two years and gaining so much weight.
Just this morning, I read Fatty gonna lose some weight . . . by don of all trades. Great. Just when I’m feeling really low about how fat I have become, along comes Don to make me feel even worse. Here he’s got all of these plans to drop fifty pounds and have fun doing it. And since he’s a guy, you just know he’ll succeed. Quickly.
Then again, I’ve always had a competitive streak. And I loved reading all of his plans because he’s looking at his situation with a sense of humor and a whole lot of honesty. Maybe . . . maybe the secret of weight control is to have fun with it instead of beating myself up about it.
So Don . . . it’s on. Fifty pounds? Child’s play. I can lose fifty pounds, too.
Who else is up for a challenge?