The Process started after something good happened to me. I received some exciting news that could have a positive effect on my career. Less than 24 hours later, I looked at my body profile in the mirror and called myself fat.
I have identified this pattern. When good things happen to me, I will follow that up with beating myself up. Sometimes I will relive a fight in high school or a mean comment I made to my sister, but my size -- the reflection in the mirror-- is where I am most cruel.
Knowing that this is my pattern, I brushed aside my mirror comments. I am transitioning, I told myself. I just graduated a grad program! I am still searching for work! I’m in isolation! I have a lot going on! And while I know beating myself up is my pattern, I also know I am not making great choices when it comes to my food and beverage choices. Am I being mean to myself or am I being real?
I sat at my desk and wrote on my planner, You drink too much wine and eat too much bread. This is a statement of fact. Since we have been quarantined, I have been baking fresh bread and buying wine by the box. Who knew that a loaf and a box are not serving sizes.
Except that’s not the whole problem.
Last summer, I had consulted multiple gynecologists about a fibroid inside my uterus that had grown to the size of a grapefruit. One of the doctors told me that the fibroid was creating a curvature in my stomach, which made me look five months pregnant all the time. The first procedure failed, the second procedure resulted in a dramatic side effect, and in the end, they had no choice but to perform an emergency hysterectomy.
But that was a year ago, and my body still looks five months pregnant. Actually, more than five months.
I try to stay active. I was doing yoga all winter. I have been walking around my neighborhood these last two months. I just started running again. Nevertheless, I am consuming more calories than I am burning. I eat mindlessly. I don’t drink enough water for my body weight. It’s not a mystery.
I walked away from the mirror and thought about it for a while. Then I looked at the prices for Weight Watchers. They were offering a discount for a six-month commitment. Six months would get me through the summer and fall. It would give me time to access the results. It would also create a commitment without feeling like it’s a prison.
It seemed like a no brainer -- I lost 40 lbs on Weight Watchers years ago, and another 30 after I had my second child. Why did I stop? Because it stopped working.
When I begin something, I have a tendency to jump in feet first. I read everything about it and it becomes my obsession. The last time I was on Weight Watchers, I only thought about food. And that’s one of the things I didn’t want to go back to. I was obsessed with what I was eating, what I should be eating, what I could be eating, what I was avoiding eating. When I hit a plateau, I came up with radical solutions instead of recognizing that I was still emotional eating. I stopped drinking unflavored sparkling water because I worried it was making me bloated and that’s why I only lost one pound instead of three. It was exhausting.
And then when I would find myself under stress -- moving, family emergencies, grad school -- I would fall right back in the pattern of eating Dove Promises in the bed.
I also have a tendency to think, “I’m smart. I know that I need to eat less bread and drink less wine. I know I need to move more and eat more vegetables! I don’t need help!”
Except clearly I do, because I am 42 and don’t know how to deal with my emotions without shoving a cupcake into my mouth.
I wrote on my planner, Why is it so hard for me to admit that I need help?
Recognizing that I need help, I pulled the trigger. I became a returning member of the WW Fam!
I was instantly resentful. Which is so dumb. I know it works. I know it will work as long as I track my food, drink all the water, and tell myself, "You are just nuggets of chocolate -- you are not a solution to this problem!"
But to avoid the pitfalls, I wanted to establish some rules. These rules might change as this journey continues.
What are the rules of this journey?
You don’t talk about it. Not that I can’t talk about it, but that I don’t want to become the only thing I know how to talk about.
Your successes will not be determined by the scale. The numbers mean nothing. You are looking for non-scale victories. Body changes, mood changes, decision-making changes.
Do not become a Weight Watchers evangelist. It’s not the answer to my problems or anyone else’s.
It’s not a hobby. Don’t treat it like one.
You are not denying yourself anything. Your choices are your choices.
Be a good example for your kids, not a cautionary tale. I watched my mom struggle with her weight, celebrate any weight loss, but then struggle when she gained it all back. I can’t say it did not have an effect on me.
Develop strategies for when life throws you a curveball.
Don’t fixate on how you can get away with things. Sacrificing protein in order to eat chocolate is not a long term strategy for success.
Let it go. You’re not going to be perfect. Don’t seek a shiny halo.