Weight and Self Worth

I see myself differently everyday. Sometimes every hour. It often depends on who I am with or if I'm all alone.

I have the best opinion of myself when I'm with my long term friends. These are the people who have known me for years and years. Through good and bad and worst. They have known me at every weight and age (at least since I was 15), and they have chosen to remain with me. And I have no idea why.

I've been trying to untangle some relationship knots of late. Like most people I prefer to think that my problems are someone else's fault, but I'm pretty good at taking ownership for things that aren't my fault as well. 

Sometimes I think I work so hard at being honest, that I lose sight of feelings. I work so hard to be sure that I'm not being too easy on myself or being unfair to other people, that I forget to take into account my feelings about things. 

This is all very vague. Let's get down to specifics. I am a 52 year old woman. I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and 2 rapes as an adult. I'm 5'2" (on a good day) and I weigh . . . well a lot more than I should according to all the charts that are out there and a lot more than I did over 30 years ago when I met my husband.

I come from a family of overweight, sedentary people. I married a man who is active all the time, and his mother was a swimsuit model. Seriously. 

I've embraced activities over the years. Hiking, swimming, yoga, biking, even scuba diving. Most of them I enjoy quite a bit.

I love to cook, and the older I get the more I love sweets. I've trained myself to stop and think about why I am eating things -- am I hungry? Am I bored? Am I tired? Am I stressed? And I try to eat for the "right" reasons. 

I love sweets and salty carbs. I am working on adding more fruit and vegetables to my snacking menu, and protein too. It's difficult when the rules of healthy eating seem to change everyday. I grew up on "eat what's put in front of you" Southern cooking. I've been down the fat free road, the low carb trek, the high protein approach, Weight Watchers, LA Weight Loss. You name it and I've probably tried it.

I've exercised regularly at times, and sporadically, and not at all. 

I suffer from depression and anxiety. '

And yet the Nike ad runs through my head -- Just do it!

I have good intentions. I make plans. I start and stay with it for a while, but then I get an injury or my allergies and asthma act up as the pollen increases. I get depressed. I feel that I'm never good enough and I'm never going to lose the weight, and if I don't lose the weight then I can't really live.

And the truth is I just want off this merry-go-round. I want to be content with what I look like and accept myself for who I am, but that's hard when the media and people around me tell me I need to change . . . constantly.

So how do you do it? How do you figure out what you really want and do it for yourself? That's the questions I'm asking. And it's not rhetorical.

Misperceptions -- OR -- I Thought I Was Fat

This past weekend my husband turned 50. My daughter posted a bunch of old photos on Facebook in his honor. And then she posted a bunch more because she was having fun. It went on and on all weekend. What a good time we had looking back at those photos -- babies, toddlers, school days, dress up. It was lovely.

But . . . but, for me there was a recurring theme that is still nagging at me. I've thought I was fat most of my life. And now at 51 when I'm heavier than I've ever been, I look back at those pictures and I realize I wasn't fat. And I find myself grieving for the lost time spent worrying about weight and what I looked like. Time that would have been so much better spent enjoying myself, my husband, my kids, my friends, my life.

It's vain and shallow of me that one of the first things I noticed looking back was my size, but truth be told I was stunned. How could I have thought I was fat? 

Blame it on a lot of things -- the media, fear of failing (at anything!), misinterpretations of comments made by others, and abuse. Abuse that made me feel "less than". Abuse that made me question every thought and idea and belief that popped into my head. Abuse that made me want to hide my body, as if that would somehow keep me from being abused again -- a protective shield if you will. Abuse that told me if I felt good about myself I was proud and arrogant, and deserving of the past abuse.

So I'm trying to learn to love myself regardless of what the scales say, and I'm learning to ask questions about my health and weight. Learning to eat and exercise in a way that honors my body. That makes me healthy and strong, regardless of what the scales and the dress sizes say.

I still would love to have that time back, but that's not an option. What I can do is move forward with clearer perceptions. And a lot more self-love.

Peace.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . November 20, 2012

Outside my window . . . 55 degrees with a beautiful blue sky. White fluffy clouds are easing off to the east. It looks a like a glorious day.

I am thinking . . . about my struggle with weight loss and exercise. On the whole, my eating has improved the older I've gotten. I do better about exercising, but I wasn't reared in an exercise friendly home. I've tried to incorporate it. I have periods where I do well, and others where all the plans fly out the window. How do you keep a regular exercise program going?

I am thankful . . . for having a veterinarian in the family. Sunday night Squeaker, our half dachshund half beagle, lost control of her back legs. Dh called his brother who met him at the vet clinic. She has inflamed disks in her back and is on medications and crate rest for the next 2 weeks. Sunday was her 13th birthday. I'm just so glad it is something treatable and dbil was able/willing to help us out especially on a Sunday night.

In the kitchen . . . last night we had chicken-apple sausages, baked cheese grits, and steamed broccoli. Quite tasty if I do say so. Tonight I'm thinking we may have the pork tenderloin I bought over the weekend.

I am wearing . . . jeans and my "Life is great . . . fitness makes it better" t-shirt.

I am creating . . . finishing up that hat I mentioned last week, and then it's back to afghans.

I am going . . . to lunch with bestie, LBB, and then for a walk at the lake with dh. I'm hoping dd might run to the grocery for me one last time : )

I am wondering . . . how much of my weight struggle is physical and how much is psychological. My doctor isn't that concerned and says the level of stress in my life does aggravate it. But I weigh considerably more than I did 27 years ago when dh and I married. I don't expect to weigh what I did then (although dh weighs what he did), but I know I'd be happier if I could drop a few pounds.

I am reading . . . Skyjack: The Hunt for D.B. Cooper by Geoffrey Gray. I was just a kid when this occurred but it's always fascinated me.

I am looking forward to . . . seeing family and resting and relaxing some over the holiday weekend.

I am hearing . . . birds chirping as I have the porch door open a crack to let in the nice morning air.

Around the house . . . finishing up a few things and then baking, preparing, and packing for Thanksgiving.

I am pondering . . . why setting and keeping a schedule is so difficult for me. 

One of my favorite things . . . is having peace and positive moods for all the people in my family. It makes me think of the quote from Ferris Bueller's Day Off -- "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . busy, busy, busy!

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

Yaya -- all tuckered out after a trip to the groomer

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