Tales from the Scales… if these hips could talk

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for they are sticking to their diet. – my refrigerator magnet

I remember the day I became aware of my weight.   (I know for some of you it’s been a lifelong struggle.)   I think I was in my third year of college.  I had just returned back to school after having spent the summer doing an internship.   I was standing in line in the cafeteria.  A friend of mine, who I hadn’t seen in a while, walked up gave me a hug and proceeded to tell me that I looked like I had put on some weight.   I can tell you in all honesty, I never thought I looked any different.  Despite her “observation”,  I don’t remember feeling self conscious or sad after our conversation.

It’s strange to me that I don’t really remember what I felt about my own weight after that.  I do remember I started paying more attention to other women’s body types (ie. comparing myself to other women more than I already had).   And about 9 months before I got married, I decided that I needed help losing the weight  and I went to one of those centers that gives you a full weight loss plan.  When they weighed me, they determined for my height,  my weight was in an acceptable range.   I left the center and decided in preparation for our wedding I would lose a few pounds on my own.   I worked out (a lot), walked everywhere (didn’t have a car) and cut back on my eating.    By my wedding day I had lost enough weight to feel confident.  My dress fit perfectly and I thought my weight loss journey had ended.

My first year of marriage I gained 25 lbs!  25lbs! That’s the amount of weight some women (not me – I gain more like 35 – 45 lbs) gain during their pregnancies.  Guess what? Again, I honestly didn’t even notice.   I remember trying on some shorts or pants and thinking, “hmm, I must have shrunk these in the dryer.”   Each time I tried on something that used to fit, but didn’t, I would think, “I need to do a better job with laundry. I’m shrinking all my clothes.”  The thing I should have observed was that my husband’s clothes weren’t shrinking.  Stop laughing.  I did not.

I finally snapped out of my denial when I was forced to move up sizes in my clothes.  This began my weight loss journey that has had it’s highs and lows for the last 12 years.

I thought about not even writing a post about weight loss, because quite frankly, it’s a topic that’s been done to death.   Are there any original insights that I can offer on this subject?  Maybe.

When did you became body conscious? Is this a good memory or a sad one?

Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you why a women’s dressing room can be one of the most depressing places on Earth.