Health Kick Chick

Join me on my laymen's journey towards better health. Eat. Move. Rest.

Before meets after

Sorry about the long delay.  I just haven’t been in a bloggy mood recently.

I just wanted to recap what happened this weekend that really reinvigorated me.  A few days ago, I was talking to a woman who we’ll call M. who has only known me at my current size/weight.  Like hundreds of thousands of women, M. is a single mom, juggling home, work and school while trying to maintain a healthy body to support her lifestyle. She’d commented that after having her last baby she’d put on a lot of weight but didn’t realize how much until she went for her mandatory annual physical for her job.  When the nurse read off the weight, she was surprised because she hadn’t weighed herself in over a year and didn’t realize she’d put on 20 lbs since her last weigh in.   I told her that I know how that feels because at some point when I started ballooning, I’d refuse to step on the scale–even going so far as to bully the nurses into not telling me my weight once I’d stepped off the scale.

Now, as part of my journey I weigh myself weekly.  Once I step off the scale I can reflect on the past week or two and think about ways to tweak my diet and exercise accordingly.  Either way, instead of demonizing the scale I use it as information and not a condemnation.  The scale only tells part of the story of my weight loss journey and I know that I am more than just my weight.

Back to M.  M. didn’t believe I’d ever struggled with my weight (not a struggle so much as a complete resignation).  She thought I was naturally thin but when I showed her my “before” pictures, her eyes grew wide and she gasped.  While I’m proud of how far I’d come and look at my pictures as a part of my story, I didn’t realize that it would have that kind of effect on someone else.  It made me regretful and self-conscious at the same time.  Thoughts raced through my head like ‘did people used to do that behind my back?’, ‘was I the person everyone used as a cautionary tale?’, ‘what did I look like to others?’  I’m glad I didn’t have these thoughts back then because being overweight is judgment enough in the real world; I didn’t need to add insecurity to my list of issues.

When M. finally closed her mouth and looked back at me she said “you should be proud of yourself, for what you’ve done.”  You know what?  I am.


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