Acceptance Speech
I have made my peace with maintenance.
After skiing down the weight loss slope and arriving at 147, I planted my skinny flag into the ground and declared victory. I knew I was holding my weight down artificially, but wasn’t really sure by how much, and I was unwilling to find out. I wanted to be below 150. There was no other option. 147 or Fight!
It was hard work being hungry all the time, but I decided to just suck it up. If this was what I needed to do to keep my weight in the 140s, then that’s just how it was to go.
Well, my body’s physiology had other plans, and eventually my resolve got plundered by my hunger. Most of the problems occurred in the “happy hour”, the hours after lunch wore off and before I could get home for dinner. I was working a lot of late nights during the winter, and those hours after 5 when the office was empty and the windows were dark, I would often get up to ‘stretch my legs’ and wound up stretching my stomach instead.
My weight crept up, slowly at first. I could still get back to 147 on Saturday mornings by skipping my Friday night snack, and then Friday night dinner. Eventually my weight settled in at 149, even despite heroic efforts. I was still OK with that until my first period hit and the extra pounds tipped me over the 150 mark. I had sworn I would never go back “up there” and so my anger drilled my weight back down.
Short-term solutions being what they are, it didn’t last. My body demanded fueling, and when I refused it the good stuff, it drove me on toward the chocolate. My body set up camp at 151, teetering back and forth on that heavy balance scale bar. Each morning I would step on the scale and wonder if I needed to move that ‘150’ up or down.
Fast forward to the summer, and I could no longer feel the Weight Watcher in me. My weight hovered in the mid-150s, and jumped to a tear-producing 158 during my period weeks. I reverted to all the insane crap I’d done previous to WW, promising myself if I could only get back down around 150, I would switch back to a healthy program and do it right.
You can guess how that went.
Some time around there, I got wind of a TLC program called “What Not To Wear”. I watched a few episodes, recoiling in horror at the cattiness of the hosts and the derisive way they handled their style neophytes. Disgusted, but unable to stop watching, the show’s tentacles snagged me and I became an addict. Then I became a convert.
The WNTW hosts, while still catty and borderline mean, talk often about dressing the body you have, and not the body you want. They go on to preach that you should not wait until you’ve lost weight to dress appropriately & stylishly. It is the very wardrobe items that women deny themselves that keep them in a ‘if only I could lose X pounds’ rut. As long as you look schlumpy, you’re going to act and behave accordingly.
So I took stock of my own wardrobe, and an honest appraisal of my appearance. I did not like the way my body looked in the mid-150s. My tummy jutted out and I had to go from Dressing to Flatter into Dressing as Camouflage. But I had to admit that my shape wasn’t all that different from the way it looked at 147. At my lowest, I was Nearly a 4. Up at 156, I was Almost an 8. So really, I was within a size 6 the entire time. I decided right then that a Size 6 was OK, and that I would shop, and dress, in clothes that fit and were flattering.
Out went all the pants I’d bought just because they were size 4 or size 3, but that really didn’t do anything for me. All the junior jeans got donated. Every blouse that peeped bra got tossed, and double ditto for the sweater-as-tent garments. I replaced my skinny trousers with flattering dresses, and turned in my Lesbian-Look shoes for pumps. I cut my hair, bought some make-up and started wearing jackets nearly every day.
Suddenly, people were noticing me. I wasn’t just a Skinny Bitch anymore, but a well-dressed manager. I got way more compliments than I’d ever received in those Size 3 stretch jeans, and my visibility into the executive ranks increased by the day.
AND THEN!!!
My weight started to drop. In exchange for accepting myself, and for dressing in a way that complimented me (rather than showcasing the things I wanted to hide), my confidence grew, my sense of self re-appeared and with that pride came the discipline to return to the WW program. Almost without effort, my weight dropped from 156 to 150.5, and the Nearly 8s started looking droopy on my frame.
So now I’m learning at last how to stabilize the scale. I have really learned how to treat myself, and what ‘once in a while’ really means. I have absorbed that hunger is not a desired state, and that eventually it all catches up to you. Most importantly, I realized that the urges to get fat still lives within me. If I don’t stroke the beast on occasion, she’ll charge out of the cage as soon as I turn my back. And that’s when the trouble starts.
I seem to be hovering now somewhere in the 152 range, and it’s a pretty comfortable place. I did discover while shopping in the better places that I’m actually an 8, and while it was a bit of an effort to accept it, I did eventually come around. It isn’t the size that people see, it’s the fit. Yes you can have back fat and a spare tire even if you’re underweight--if you dress improperly. On the flip side, you can hide all those annoying imperfections with the right kind of clothes. In fact, if you get really good at it, you start to see your body as just that—Your Body. Neither perfect nor imperfect, but simply you.
Simply me.
Sometimes I think that if I had committed to looking my best at 251 pounds that the weight would have come off faster, or healthier, or some other ‘er’. But I don’t think so. I had so many years of beating myself up and dressing badly that no amount of chiffon and tummy panel would have aided me down the scale. Sometimes it’s just about putting the time in. On the other hand, I do think that if I had put more effort into dressing my body as I transitioned from Fat to Fit, it might have happened more naturally and I wouldn’t have had the drive to get down below a weight I could properly maintain. My body would have level-set where it was truly easy to maintain, and my stress & agony would have been greatly reduced.
I don’t have that option of course, and so I just need to remember that I’ve learned my lesson about what really works in weight loss & maintenance. I’m hopeful that my fitted clothes will help me to stay within this range, neither dropping down too far so skirts ride on my hips nor creeping up too high so I get ‘whiskering’ across my lap.
Now if only I could get to the gym regularly. That’s the next beast. I have no excuse for blowing it off, and I’m elated every time I work out. Clearly I still have some extra fat left…in my brain. Guess I know what the next lesson plan looks like.
On I (bench) press
A the M(aintained)
After skiing down the weight loss slope and arriving at 147, I planted my skinny flag into the ground and declared victory. I knew I was holding my weight down artificially, but wasn’t really sure by how much, and I was unwilling to find out. I wanted to be below 150. There was no other option. 147 or Fight!
It was hard work being hungry all the time, but I decided to just suck it up. If this was what I needed to do to keep my weight in the 140s, then that’s just how it was to go.
Well, my body’s physiology had other plans, and eventually my resolve got plundered by my hunger. Most of the problems occurred in the “happy hour”, the hours after lunch wore off and before I could get home for dinner. I was working a lot of late nights during the winter, and those hours after 5 when the office was empty and the windows were dark, I would often get up to ‘stretch my legs’ and wound up stretching my stomach instead.
My weight crept up, slowly at first. I could still get back to 147 on Saturday mornings by skipping my Friday night snack, and then Friday night dinner. Eventually my weight settled in at 149, even despite heroic efforts. I was still OK with that until my first period hit and the extra pounds tipped me over the 150 mark. I had sworn I would never go back “up there” and so my anger drilled my weight back down.
Short-term solutions being what they are, it didn’t last. My body demanded fueling, and when I refused it the good stuff, it drove me on toward the chocolate. My body set up camp at 151, teetering back and forth on that heavy balance scale bar. Each morning I would step on the scale and wonder if I needed to move that ‘150’ up or down.
Fast forward to the summer, and I could no longer feel the Weight Watcher in me. My weight hovered in the mid-150s, and jumped to a tear-producing 158 during my period weeks. I reverted to all the insane crap I’d done previous to WW, promising myself if I could only get back down around 150, I would switch back to a healthy program and do it right.
You can guess how that went.
Some time around there, I got wind of a TLC program called “What Not To Wear”. I watched a few episodes, recoiling in horror at the cattiness of the hosts and the derisive way they handled their style neophytes. Disgusted, but unable to stop watching, the show’s tentacles snagged me and I became an addict. Then I became a convert.
The WNTW hosts, while still catty and borderline mean, talk often about dressing the body you have, and not the body you want. They go on to preach that you should not wait until you’ve lost weight to dress appropriately & stylishly. It is the very wardrobe items that women deny themselves that keep them in a ‘if only I could lose X pounds’ rut. As long as you look schlumpy, you’re going to act and behave accordingly.
So I took stock of my own wardrobe, and an honest appraisal of my appearance. I did not like the way my body looked in the mid-150s. My tummy jutted out and I had to go from Dressing to Flatter into Dressing as Camouflage. But I had to admit that my shape wasn’t all that different from the way it looked at 147. At my lowest, I was Nearly a 4. Up at 156, I was Almost an 8. So really, I was within a size 6 the entire time. I decided right then that a Size 6 was OK, and that I would shop, and dress, in clothes that fit and were flattering.
Out went all the pants I’d bought just because they were size 4 or size 3, but that really didn’t do anything for me. All the junior jeans got donated. Every blouse that peeped bra got tossed, and double ditto for the sweater-as-tent garments. I replaced my skinny trousers with flattering dresses, and turned in my Lesbian-Look shoes for pumps. I cut my hair, bought some make-up and started wearing jackets nearly every day.
Suddenly, people were noticing me. I wasn’t just a Skinny Bitch anymore, but a well-dressed manager. I got way more compliments than I’d ever received in those Size 3 stretch jeans, and my visibility into the executive ranks increased by the day.
AND THEN!!!
My weight started to drop. In exchange for accepting myself, and for dressing in a way that complimented me (rather than showcasing the things I wanted to hide), my confidence grew, my sense of self re-appeared and with that pride came the discipline to return to the WW program. Almost without effort, my weight dropped from 156 to 150.5, and the Nearly 8s started looking droopy on my frame.
So now I’m learning at last how to stabilize the scale. I have really learned how to treat myself, and what ‘once in a while’ really means. I have absorbed that hunger is not a desired state, and that eventually it all catches up to you. Most importantly, I realized that the urges to get fat still lives within me. If I don’t stroke the beast on occasion, she’ll charge out of the cage as soon as I turn my back. And that’s when the trouble starts.
I seem to be hovering now somewhere in the 152 range, and it’s a pretty comfortable place. I did discover while shopping in the better places that I’m actually an 8, and while it was a bit of an effort to accept it, I did eventually come around. It isn’t the size that people see, it’s the fit. Yes you can have back fat and a spare tire even if you’re underweight--if you dress improperly. On the flip side, you can hide all those annoying imperfections with the right kind of clothes. In fact, if you get really good at it, you start to see your body as just that—Your Body. Neither perfect nor imperfect, but simply you.
Simply me.
Sometimes I think that if I had committed to looking my best at 251 pounds that the weight would have come off faster, or healthier, or some other ‘er’. But I don’t think so. I had so many years of beating myself up and dressing badly that no amount of chiffon and tummy panel would have aided me down the scale. Sometimes it’s just about putting the time in. On the other hand, I do think that if I had put more effort into dressing my body as I transitioned from Fat to Fit, it might have happened more naturally and I wouldn’t have had the drive to get down below a weight I could properly maintain. My body would have level-set where it was truly easy to maintain, and my stress & agony would have been greatly reduced.
I don’t have that option of course, and so I just need to remember that I’ve learned my lesson about what really works in weight loss & maintenance. I’m hopeful that my fitted clothes will help me to stay within this range, neither dropping down too far so skirts ride on my hips nor creeping up too high so I get ‘whiskering’ across my lap.
Now if only I could get to the gym regularly. That’s the next beast. I have no excuse for blowing it off, and I’m elated every time I work out. Clearly I still have some extra fat left…in my brain. Guess I know what the next lesson plan looks like.
On I (bench) press
A the M(aintained)
posted by Former Fat Girl Gone Skinny | 2:18 PM
3 Comments:
And how fantastic you look in your new clothes...
Awesome stuff.
We will post pictures shortly.
Love you honey!!!
Awesome realization! And I like that show, too! Good to see you again, and glad I came back to WW
I'm curious about the pictures, and the new look. And here I was, reading this and going to wish you strenght on Halloween night, with all the sweets out....
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