If the suit doesn’t fit. . .

March 26, 2010 By

People are generally kind.  and John is one of the kindest I know.   There was one time when his kindness turned into an embarrassing moment.  He used to love buying me clothes.  I wore a size 10 pretty consistently, so clothes shopping easy.  However, problems began during the 2nd year of our marriage.  Because we went out to eat constantly, and I never exercised, I had beenslowly and steadily gaining weight.  He never seemed to notice that I kept buying new jeans, suits, and dresses.  I guess he just thought I didn’t like my old clothes. 

The third year of our marriage was going wonderfully and Christmas coming.  One day I showed him a picture of a white suit I really liked.  He said, “It’s nice.”  I forgot about the suit and Christmas came and went.  For Valentine’s Day we out-of-town relatives visiting, and John brought out a beautifully wrapped present and said, “I’ve had this and was waiting for Valentine’s Day to give it to you.”  I eagerly opened the package and was delighted to find the suit I had admired inside.  My delight quickly turned to concern when I noticed that the size of the suit was “10“.   Unbeknownst to him, I hadn’t worn a size 10 in over a year.  I could fudge sizes in shirts and sweaters, but a suit was a different story.  I held it up to myself and said, “Thank you.” 

Here’s where the big problem started.  He said, “Try it on.”  I shook my head, no.  He insisted, and I reluctantly headed into a different room to change clothes.

I stepped into the skirt and started to pull it up.  It wouldn’t go above my knees.  I tugged and checked to make sure the zipper was fully opened.  It was, and the skirt wasn’t budging.  From the living room I heard them call, “Are you ready?”  Ready?!  Not quite.  I stepped back out of the skirt and tried to put it on over my head.  After all, it was a slim skirt.  I tugged and pulled, yanked and wiggled until I had it partially on.  I yanked the skirt hem down until it was kind of in the right place.  There would be no buttoning the skirt as it was about 4 inches too small.  The hips were so tight I could hardly walk. 

I put the jacket on as best as I could and pulled it down as far as possible.  I opened the door three inches and stuck my face out.  “It’s good,” I said.  They all chorused – “Let us see.”  I opened the door a bit further and stood in the doorway with my hands in front of my hips.  Without thinking, my husband said, “It looks a little tight.”  My relatives echoed his sentiment and I turned red from embarrassment.  I just laughed and said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s just cut small.”  But inside I was mortified.  Now everyone in the family knew I had gotten fat.

Later that night he apologized.  He told me he hadn’t realized I really didn’t want to try on the suit.  I finally admitted to him that I hadn’t worn a size 10 in some time and was sorry.  He said he didn’t care, but I cared.  I knew I was getting bigger and bigger but I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.  Now my problem was out in the open.  Instead of doing something about it, I began talking nonstop about my weight, looking for reassurance that I wasn’t really as big as I knew I was.  He was reassuring, but everytime he reassured me the words rang false.  I knew he was just being kind.  I didn’t look okay and I was quickly moving towards being embarassingly large. 

After this story took place, I gained another 100 pounds.  If I had just gotten things under control then my life would have been a lot easier.  And there would have been many less embarrassing clothing moments.

Ever had something like this happen to you?  Diane

Filed Under: Appearance, embarassing moments, Weight Loss Tagged With: , ,

Thoughts on Airplane Seating

March 15, 2010 By

I’ve flown on and off my whole life. I always enjoyed flying until I became an adult, and then all of a sudden it made me really, really nervous. I fly when I need to, but don’t love it like my husband does. Every time I fly I  grip the armrests willing the plane up in the air and then just as fervently willing it down again. Fortunately, every time I’ve flown it has been a safe flight. Unfortunately, it wasn’t always the most enjoyable flight.

I successfully avoided flying for a long time while I was obese. I had an opportunity or two to fly somewhere but always managed to get out of it. There was one time where I absolutely had to get on an airplane, so I did.

I had been morbidly obese long enough that I knew it wasn’t going to be a lot of fun sitting squished in a seat several sizes too small for several hours. I had already experienced the humiliation of breaking chairs, getting stuck in booths at restaurants, and getting winded just walking up a few steps to understand that my obesity was a huge problem.

Once I arrived at the airport that morning I went directly to my gate. I looked around at the other passengers and – as expected – I was by far the biggest person there. I felt like everyone was looking at me – secretly hoping they weren’t seated next to me. If I had been them I would have secretly been hoping the same thing. More and more people came to the gate and I heard the attendant announce that the flight was full. “Great,” I thought. “Now I will have to sit next to someone for sure.” And sure enough, a few minutes later there I was.

I was in the window seat, a medium largish man was next to me, and a skinny man was occupying the aisle seat, hanging onto his armrest for dear life. I wished I could just suck in my girth but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t make myself any smaller. I struggled with the seat belt after reassuring the flight attendant that I definitely did not need a seat belt extender. I really needed one, but with a lot of tugging I managed to get the belt buckled. I knew that belt wasn’t getting unbuckled until we reached our destination. I was afraid I might not get it fastened again.

The whole flight was exceedingly uncomfortable – both for me and my poor seat mates. Not surprisingly, neither one of them spoke to me during the flight. Fortunately, my flight home was better as I had a seat to myself.

I’ve read a lot of stories in the newspaper lately about Southwest Airlines requiring passengers as big as I was to purchase two seats. Having lived both sides of this situation I am torn on what is the right way to handle an obese passenger. I understand the airlines’ concern, but I also know that sometimes obese people need to fly and they can’t always afford two tickets. It’s a bad Catch-22.

What’s your take on airline flights? Have you ever felt uncomfortable on a flight, and do you think obese passengers should be required to purchase an extra ticket?  Diane

Filed Under: Appearance, embarassing moments, obesity, Weight Loss Tagged With: , ,

Who Knew This Was A Problem?

January 7, 2010 By

Does It Buckle?

Who knew that seat belts really should be bigger.   A seat belt is something I had never really given any consideration to before I gained 150 pounds. You sat in the car, put your seat belt on, and off you went.

That was when I was a standard size. Unfortunately, once I married, I wasn’t a standard size for long. Once my weight ballooned up and over 300 pounds I had a lot of struggles with those pesky fabric seat belts.  Like everyone else who has been morbidly obese, when I weighed in that range, I still needed to use a seat belt, but sometimes that wasn’t possible.  This sounds harsh to say, but as big as I looked when I was standing up, when I sat down things really got wide.  Everything seemed to spread around me, and I looked bigger than I really was.  Unfortunately, even though I avoided looking at myself from the side when sitting, there were times when my sitting down width became undeniable and embarrassing. After all, with a waist size of 55 and hips in the 60’s, it had becoming increasingly difficult to perform normal day-to-day activities. 

Walking was more difficult, standing for long periods of time was torture for my knees and back.  And who knew this would happen – but riding in vehicles became somewhat of an issue as well! 

One time a friend and I were going to the children’s museum with our kids.  I had a minivan back then, which seems so tiny when I compare it to the 12 passenger van I drive now, and I never had a problem buckling my seat belt properly. However, on that day, after we had we opened up her trunk and loaded strollers, coolers and diaper bags, the next step was to transferred my kid’s car seats to her car, along with little squirming children.  After what seemed like an eternity, we got in the car and prepared to leave. 

She  put on her seat belt,  and I reached behind me to grab mine.  I grabbed the seat belt, pulled it diagonally across my body and whoops!  No go.  Being very technologically savvy, I released the seat belt all the way back into its holder, and tried again.  Double no go.  The seat belt reached about to my left hip, but was a good 4″ short of reaching the buckle thingy.  I gently released the seat belt one more time and looked at her.  She said, “Is it broken?”  I said, “No, it’s too small.”  She wanted to change to my car, but I didn’t want to go through the embarrassment of unloading 5 children and all their paraphernalia.  I insisted it would be fine to go the short distance to the museum without being buckled, but I felt incredibly guilty and said prayed the whole time she was driving that we wouldn’t crash. 

Obviously we made it safely there and back, but my self esteem had taken another major nose dive. 

I wish that that incident had spurred me into action, but just like all the other embarrassing moments, it sent me through the McDonald’s drive-thru. I still remember asking the older two kids if they’d like some french fries on the way home that day. They were happy to share a small fry, and I was content for a moment with my large fry, large diet coke, and large chocolate shake. Content until I got home that is.

I write this not so you will feel sorry for me, but so you will know that no matter what your weight issues/challenges are – I’ve been there. I know how these kinds of incidences can beat us down and make us feel bad. But I also know that looking back I feel powerful that I was able to finally break free of that life and move forward – both to the joy and happiness of myself and my family.  Do you feel powerful?  Diane 

 

Filed Under: Appearance, embarassing moments, Weight Loss Tagged With: ,

One Question Not to Ask

December 23, 2009 By
NOT PREGNANT

NOT PREGNANT

The year was 1995 and I looked like the picture.  I had been married for eight years and had gained around 110 pounds.  Impressive to be sure.  I worried about my size a lot.  I was a size 10 when we married, and had a closet full of great clothes.  My only worry with clothes at that nice smallish size was what fabulous outfit to buy next. Should I buy the cute suit for the office, or the great new pair of jeans in black? But unfortunately, I quickly gained weight, and my size increased rapidly. Size 10′s were a thing of the past. Onto size 12, 14, 16′s and then, HELLO PLUS SIZE DEPARTMENT. Not a good day, that one.

Finally hitting 280 pounds,  I worried a lot about clothes.  I had a closet full of clothes that ranged from my old size of 10 to my current size 28.  Of course the smaller sized clothes wouldn’t have fit around my right arm, and sad to say, the largest of the clothing was getting small.  I had resorted to making really ugly jumpers that I wore with t-shirts purchased from the men’s department.  I had grown so large  I was afraid  that soon it would be impossible to purchase clothes that would fit me anymore.

And sad to say, that fear came true. I mostly wore faded leggings or jumpers. Wearing jumpers has some definite advantages for the overweight woman.  They are loose, they come in many colors, and you can grow into them if needed.  And I needed to grow into them often.

One disadvantage to the jumper is this:  When they are getting a bit tight all the way around, you may get asked a question you don’t want to answer. 

A question like this:  When are you due?

The first time this happened to me was after my first daughter was born.  I was wearing what I thought was a really pretty yellow jumper. The baby was about 9 or 10 months old, and she and I had spent the morning shopping at the mall.  At our last stop, I was standing in line to pay for an outfit and the lady standing next to me said, “My your children will be close in age won’t they?”  I looked at her uncomprehendingly and said, “Excuse me?”  She repeated her statement, and I realized, with horror, she thought I was pregnant.  I was mortified, but probably not as mortified as she was when I explained that I just hadn’t lost the baby weight yet, and I was definitely not pregnant.

This happened to me over and over again through my obese years.  People would ask, “When is the baby due?” and I would fall all over myself explaning why I was so big.  Finally, I came up with the perfect answer to this rather distressing question.  I would say, “THE BABY IS DUE IN _________.”  I’d fill in the appropriate month, depending on the time of year.  They would say “Good luck with the delivery” and go off on their way.  And as they left, part of me would die inside each time this happened.  I’m not exgaggrating when I tell you that this probably happened about 10 times a year. You would think that I would have gotten used to it but I didn’t.

I hope that this has never happened to you. There are so many embarrassing moments that happened to me over the years and  I’ve never forgotten any of them. But instead of feeling badly and beating myself up over my appearance and choices back then, now I use these incidents as one more reminder of why I never want to go back where I came from.  If you are ever tempted to go back to your old ways, just remember and write down some of the reasons you’ve been working so hard to get where you want to go.  Diane

Filed Under: embarassing moments, Weight Loss Tagged With: ,

These chairs aren’t made for sitting (part 2)

November 21, 2009 By

And here’s the follow-up to Saturday’s post! It too was originally published in the first days of my blog.

Last week I shared how, many years ago, I got stuck in a bentwood rocking chair at church, and had to push and tug myself out of the chair while a group of ladies watched in uncomfortable silence.  That incident didn’t get me motivated to get healthy and lose weight, and neither did the second incident involving a chair.

The year was 1995, and we were celebrating one of my children’s birthdays.  As customary for the time, we had invited an assortment of friends over for the party, and were enjoying watching all the little children run around and play.  As an obese woman, I tired easily.  Even during my normal daily routines I would often find myself sitting down “for a rest.”  I often rested with a bite of something high fat and high sugar, followed by a bite of something high fat and high salt.  And then to round off my rest, I would return to the high sugar food, just to end on a sweet note!  That birthday party day was even more strenuous than my typical days usually were.  After all, I had made a cake, planned games, cleaned the house, wrapped presents and gotten several little children fed and dressed.

As the party progressed I could feel my energy level waning.  My legs began to hurt.  My back ached from standing around and I just felt burned out.  During this particular party, some of the husbands had also come, and one of my friend’s husbands was sitting in our dining room watching his little daughters play with mine.  I walked into the dining room, which was part of our great room, and began talking with him.  As we talked I became more and more exhausted, so I sat down in a chair.  As I sat down, I heard a soft crack.  I shifted my weight around and looked behind me to see where that unusual sound had come from.  I couldn’t see anything.  But then, he said, “I think you broke the chair.” 

Looking at him in horror, I reached my right arm around to my left side and grasped the left chair arm.  Imagine my embarassment when I pulled and the chair arm came free, having broken right off the chair.  I looked at him, he stared at me and I mumbled something about the fact that they just don’t make furniture the way they used to.  He wisely agreed with me, and we both left the dining room.  I put that chair arm in the coat closet and returned to the party.  Unfortunately, the only thing I could think of all day long was that broken chair.  I told John what had happened and he kindly agreed that it was a manufacturing defect, and not the fault of my large backside. 

It would be about two more years before I started to finally lose the weight.  I kept that chair arm for years as a reminder of where I had been, and where I didn’t want to be any longer.  As I look back on that time, I realize that I wasn’t being honest with myself about how much my weight was affecting my everyday life.  I couldn’t see beyond the physical size and acknowledge that my weight was holding me back in all areas of my life, not only physically.  One thing I often share with people who ask about my weight loss is that being overweight isn’t just a physical issue.  It’s an emotional issue as well.  The physical size is often a symptom of an emotional issue. 

I would encourage you to take this weekend and examine your feelings about your weight and your size.  Then go beyond just the physical and think about the emotional and spiritual connections surrounding where you are.  I believe that all situations and all challenges can be used to stronger and happier.  Write down some of the things that come to mind when you think about your physical appearance, and  then write down an action plan to address one of those issues today.  Don’t be like me and wait until you start coming apart at the seams, make a choice to make a change today.   Diane

Filed Under: embarassing moments, self esteem Tagged With: , ,

These chairs aren’t made for sitting

November 14, 2009 By

This was one of my first posts. I don’t think many of you saw it since my blog was only a few days old.

Americans are voyeuristic.  We love reality television shows, we eagerly follow the lives of the rich and famous and most of us enjoy stories about other people.  We especially enjoy those shows and stories that make us glad we aren’t like “them.”  I’ll be brave and tell you a story that will make you glad you weren’t me.  

Have you ever been to an antique store and marveled at the size of the tiny beds, the delicate shape of the table legs and the diminutive chairs?  In a museum, did you ever stare in

freefoto.com

freefoto.com

amazement at Martha Washington’s dress, not only because it’s so old, but because it’s so small?    Americans aren’t small anymore, and it seems everything we see in stores these days is super-sized.  Our tables are higher, the beds are larger, the couches are enormous and the chair seats are wider. 

Oh, had that last statement been true for me when I was fat.  There were two incidents where I would have given my right thigh (literally) for a super sized piece of furniture.  I’ll share one of them with you now.  Many years ago I was at church for the Sunday morning services with John and the children.  During the service, my youngest daughter, who was a baby at the time, started to get fussy.  I took her out through the big swinging doors at the back of the auditorium, and walked down the hall to the “cry room.”  This was a small room that had been set aside by the church for mothers.  It had a changing table, a restroom and several rocking chairs arranged in a circle.  When I got the the room, there were 4 or 5 other moms sitting in the room with their babies.  I walked in, sat down in one of the chairs and while I rocked my little one , I enjoyed conversation with the other mothers.  Eventually, I decided to go back into the church service. I began to get up out of the chair so I could leave the room.  But too bad for me because I was stuck in the chair, and when I stood up the chair came up with me.  There I was, half standing, with a rocking chair attached to my behind.  The chair was literally swing in the air.  I was hanging onto poor Grace for dear life.  The ladies in the room were mortified.

My next reaction was swift and sure.  I quickly lowered the chair back to the ground and sat back down.  No one knew where to look, especially me.  Did I look at my friends?  At Grace?  At the chair?  I just wanted to get out of that room and out of that chair.  I was afraid to try standing up again, but I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of the morning in the rocking chair.  This time, I pushed down on the chair handle with one hand, held onto Grace with the other hand, and extracted my thighs and behind from the chair.  For a quick moment I really thought I was stuck again, but with some shifting and tugging I popped out of the chair and fled the room. 

That was one of many embarassing moments I had as an overweight woman.  That particular chair was an older style of rocking chair, often called a bentwood chair, and it was small.  I later went back when no one was there and looked at the chair to see why I had gotten stuck.  The seat was small, and the arms were very narrow.  Had I been an average size it wouldn’t have been an issue, but due to my size, the smallness of the chair definitely a problem. 

Did I run home, get rid of all my fat food and diet like crazy?  No.  John and I went out to eat and I pigged out like there was no tomorrow.  I pushed the incident far down into the reaches of my mind so that I wouldn’t get upset about what had happened.  I once again used food to cover up any emotion.  It didn’t work for me.  The emotions surrounding that incident and others like it kept returning and I kept trying in vain to cover them with food.  Looking back I now see that no matter how much I ate it wasn’t solving the problem.  It was only compounding it.  But I still didn’t stop overeating.  It would be several more years of uncomfortable chairs and embarassing moments before I would finally get my food choices and exercise regime in place. 

Have you ever had something like that happen to you? Care to share a moment or two?? Diane

Like I don’t have enough to do – I’ve started a family blog - so if any of you are curious as to what life is like in my house click on over. There’s a few things up now, but I’m adding more as you read! I’ll have cooking, cleaning, homeschooling, and daily life!

Filed Under: embarassing moments, self esteem Tagged With: , ,

As Big As a Football Player!

November 8, 2009 By

I’m not a big sports fan in general.  I didn’t participate in organized sports in high school, although I did attend the football games because I was in the band.  During my college years I became more of a football fan as our team, Florida State, was on the way up, and it was exciting to be in a stadium full of tens of thousands of people.  Once married, John and I went to the FSU games when we could afford it, and always had a good time cheering, drinking diet cokes and eating cheese nachos. 

Once the children started coming along we rarely went to the games, but we did watch them on TV.  As I gained weight over the years, I always kept my actual weight a secret from John.  After all, he probably didn’t notice that I was a “bit” bigger than I used to be.  But one fall day, John and I were sitting on the living room couch watching FSU play, and the commentator said, “On the defense is “so-and-so”, who is 6′3″ tall and weighs a whopping 285 pounds.”  I couldn’t help it.  The words came out of my mouth – “I weigh more than he does.”  John whipped his head around and said, “No you don’t.”  I insisted I did and we both sat there, astonished and silent.  I can’t speak for him, but I’d wager that he was shocked.  I was shocked that I actually said it out loud.

I was also so upset when I realized that I weighed more than a famous college football player.  How could that have happened?  That guy was HUGE.  His neck was gigantic, his shoulder were enormous and his legs looked like tree trunks.  Surely I wasn’t that big.  And although he and I were similar in weight, that’s where the comparison ended, because I wasn’t nearly in the shape he was in.  I was all soft and fat, whereas he was all muscle.  Instead of it making me upset enough to finally get on with losing weight, the realization that I was bigger than most of the FSU football team sent me off the couch to the pantry for fortifications.  I made some chips and cheese for halftime, and later washed it down with diet coke and ice cream.  After all, I reasoned, I couldn’t do anything about my fatness that day, so I might as well enjoy the rest of the game. 

But I was wrong, because I could have done something about my fatness right then. But I chose not to. I chose to sit down and eat more and more food, hoping that I’d be able to drown my currently reality in chocolate. I couldn’t.

As the years went by I often thought of that afternoon, and it became something I tried to joke about.  But every time I made a joke about it, I lost a little bit more confidence in myself.  Day by day I’d realize that I was still bigger than that huge guy, and day by day I’d do nothing except eat.  It would be several more years before I finally got serious about my weight.  I’m so glad that so many of you aren’t waiting for another day or another year to make a change. Every day that you live is another day to improve your health and make better choices.  Even small amounts of weight loss are beneficial to your physical and emotional health.  Diane

Filed Under: embarassing moments, obesity Tagged With: ,

From the Husband

November 2, 2009 By

Diane & John

Hi!  I’m John, Diane’s husband, and I have the honor of being Diane’s first guest blogger. 

I like the name of Diane’s website and upcoming book, Fit to the Finish, because it is very descriptive of her.  One of the things I admire about Diane is her ability to finish what she starts, especially since I am a chronic procrastinator.  No matter what she sets her mind to, she stays on task until it is done.  Diane never dabbles in anything–she masters it.  Over the years I have seen her learn quilting, scrapbooking, photography, refinishing and upholstering furniture, and of course blogging.  But the one thing she could not seem to master was weight loss.

Early in our marriage, when the pounds began to mysteriously appear, Diane tried different diets.  Unfortunately, she was not able to stick with anything.  The big meals, desserts, and snacks continued unabated—I should know, I was right there with her stuffing my own face!  But honestly, I always thought of her weight gain as temporary, because I knew it was something that bothered her a lot.The extra weight didn’t change my feelings for Diane at all.  To me she was the same wonderful woman I married, but I knew all  the extra weight was having a deep impact on her self-esteem.  Diane had always cared about how she looked and enjoyed being on the go.  But when she became heavy, she was less concerned about her appearance and she limited her activities, often sitting on the sidelines or staying home.  As her clothing size increased, the selection of clothing options decreased, and she had to resort to making her own clothes.  To save money, she would buy clearance fabric (never the most attractive colors or prints).  I remember one jumper she made that was purple and blue with a fish pattern (yes, it was as bad as you are picturing).  She had spilled bleach on it and ruined it.  A few days later, I met her and the kids for lunch at the mall and she was wearing it!  I asked her why and she said, “It’s fine.  Besides, no one looks at me anyway.”

When the scale announced that Diane had hit over 300 lbs., she set her will to doing what it took to lose weight.  Unhealthy or dangerous foods were banished from our house (darn).  To my dismay, the Oreos, Breyers ice cream, and chips were gone.  It was as if she had put a lock on her mouth.  She could not be enticed to deviate from her plan.  Sometimes I tried to get her to share my guilt in some gluttonous indulgences, but to no avail.  Once, at a child’s birthday party, the mother offered us a big slice of cake with the requisite mound of ice cream, and pointed us to the savory treats at the “adults’ table.”  I gladly took my plate and then heard Diane say, “No thank you.”  I did a double take and looked at this woman who had always joined me in consuming such tasty treats in bulk, but was now politely refusing some of her favorite foods.  I knew then that she was serious.  She became almost annoyingly tenacious about exercising.  No matter what the weather was like, or even if we were on vacation, the girl was going to walk.  And sure enough, the pounds began to come off.  This is not to say that it was an easy journey and that she didn’t stumble at times, but her determination returned and she was back on track.  I could tell, she really wanted to lose weight.

At the time, I called Diane “the incredible shrinking woman.”  I enjoyed watching the reactions of family and friends when they saw her transformation.  It was great to see her buying new clothes and having more energy.  One of my favorite memories was at Sea World where she was invited from the audience to participate in the Shamu whale show.  When the show was over, she leaned over and whispered to me, “They never would have asked me if I had still been fat.”  Seeing the look in her eyes made me realize how she had always felt about her weight problem and how much being overweight it had hurt.  It brought tears to my eyes, I was so happy for her that she had reached her goal of being fit. (Read that whole story here.)

In so many ways, Diane is my hero.  When I face temptations in my life or think I can’t accomplish something, I remember the commitment she made to herself and her unflinching resolve.  In dealing with my own weight issues, her example showed me, that no matter how many diets, gimmicks, or good intentions you have for getting fit, until you set your will  and make deep down commitment, is isn’t going to work.  Do you have that resolve in your journey?  John

Filed Under: embarassing moments, emotions Tagged With: , , , ,

I Shouldn’t Have Asked

October 22, 2009 By

300 pounds is hard to hide.  No matter where you go, you are taking up more space than you should.  People notice fat people.  We just can’t help it.  Even when I weighed over 275 pounds, I noticed other overweight people, secretly comparing my size to theirs.  Was my arm that big?  Did I sway back and forth when I walked?  What about my neck? “Surely,”  I would think, “My hips aren’t as big as hers.”

Was I judging them?  I don’t think I was.  Rather, I really was trying to gauge exactly how large I was.  I found it very difficult to reconcile my previous size with my current size.  I just couldn’t visualize what I looked like to other people.  

Walking around the mall gave me the opportunity to play a little game with John.  He didn’t know he was playing a game – or maybe he did and never let on.  From time to time, I would point out an overweight person in the mall and ask John, “Do you think I’m as big as they are?”  He’d look where I was pointing, and say, “Oh, no.  Not that big.”  I’d be happy for awhile, because that person was definitely huge, but then the self doubt would creep in again.  “What about that person?” I’d say.  Again, he’d reassure me that I wasn’t nearly as big as that person either.  Every time he reassured me that I wasn’t that large, it temporarily made me feel better.  Maybe I wasn’t as big as I thought I was.  (Remember, at my worst, I was a size 28.)  However, one day I got a perspective that made me wish I had never wondered how I looked to other people. 

One day, my perception of myself, got a big fat dose of reality.  We were living in Florida at the time, and decided it was time to declutter and clean things up.  We gathered together all of our old clothes, shoes, outgrown toys, and unused items and organized them in the garage in preparation for a garage sale.  The appointed Saturday rolled around, and people showed up to turn our junk into their treasure.  Sales were brisk, and John and I were pleased with how much stuff was going away.  About midway through the morning, a car pulled up and parked on the side of the road by our house.  Exiting the car was a huge woman, accompanied by some friends or family members.  They walked up the driveway, we greeted them, and then sat down in our chairs to chat while they looked around.  The large woman had a few things in her hands and walked over to me.  She said, “Do you have any of your clothes for sale?”  I looked at her and said, “Excuse me?”  She repeated her question, and I said, “No, I’m not selling my clothes today.”  She paid for her items and left.

I whipped my head around to my husband and whispered, “Am I as big as that woman leaving?”  He looked at her, looked at me and said, “I don’t know.”  I said again, “AM I?”  He said, “Well, I guess so.”  Crushed.  I was crushed.  For years I had been trying desperately to see one thing in the mirror, whereas the rest of the world was seeing a huge, large, obese woman.  How in the world could I be as big as that woman?  I watched her go to her car, gingerly lower herself into the driver’s seat, struggle to reach over and shut the door and leave.  And then I knew.  She got into her car the same way I did mine, struggling to maneuver herself in.  I was her. 

From that day on I never asked John if I was as big as someone else, because I knew the answer.  Year after year I thought about that garage sale day, and year after year I kept gaining weight, wishing something magical would happen.  Have you ever had a dose of reality that you wished hadn’t happen?  Diane

Filed Under: Appearance, embarassing moments, Weight Loss Tagged With: ,

Don’t Touch That Food!

August 6, 2009 By

I’m by nature a pretty honest, giving person. If you need something done, I’m happy to help if I can. I go out of my way to say, and do nice things for people whenever possible. In most areas of my life this is true – except for food.

As an obese wife and mother, I was guardian and keeper of all food in the house. I did the shopping, prepared the meals, selected the restaurants, and made the decisions. That’s pretty typical for a stay-at-home mom probably. What wasn’t so typical was my protective attitude towards the food in the pantry.

When I went grocery shopping I’d buy the ingredients for meals, yes – but I’d also buy special foods just for me. Unfortunately they weren’t fruits and vegetables, but rather candy, cookies, ice cream, and chips. Sometimes my oldest daughter, who was about 5 at the time would ask me, “Mommy, do we get any of those M&M’s?” What she was really asking me, was whether or not I was going to eat the entire pound bag by myself or not.

Sad to say, when I got home from grocery shopping I’d secret away my “special food.” Throughout the following days you’d find me standing in the pantry, reaching my hand way up high trying to feel around for my own personal treat.  If someone walked into the kitchen I’d quickly withdraw my hand and look innocently around, as if to say, “What? I’m not doing anything wrong!”

Occasionally John would find my stash and would ask where it came from. I’d casually say, “Oh, I bought that weeks ago.” He’d just nod, knowing full well that wasn’t the truth, but not wanting to confront me. Sometimes I’d immediately feel guilty and confess, but more often than not I’d just allow the lie to sit there.  The whole time we’d be discussing it all I could think was, “I hope he doesn’t eat any.”

Even at dinner time, I would carefully watch what everyone was eating, secretly hoping there would be enough left for me to have 3rds and 4ths. I hid my disappointment if there wasn’t any of my favorites left, quickly planning for what other treat I could have. I never told any of the family members not to have seconds of the dumplings, but I probably unconsciouslly communicated my desires.

When I finally got to the point where I was disgusted with myself both physically and emotionally, I made a 180 degree turnaround. Instead of secreting away food, all food was available to everyone. Of course I stopped buying junky food, and filled the pantry with healthy treats, but when the occasion arose to buy candy, I made sure to place it on the pantry shelf where everyone could see it.

At dinner, I no longer worried that there wouldn’t be enough for me to have my extra share. I took what I knew to be an appropriate serving, and enjoyed watching my family eat a healthy meal.

I know that I’m not completely alone in my old feelings concerning food, as dozens of women in my weight loss classes have shared similiar stories with me. Over and over again I’d encourage them that this was a habit that was fairly easy to break.

I changed my habit and desires by coming to the realization that food was a wonderful, joyous part of my life, but not the focus of my life. As I changed my attitude toward food, I saw my body change as well. This time for the positive.  If there is a part of you that hides food, either openly or in secret, don’t worry – this is a habit that can be changed, and turned around for the better.  Diane

Filed Under: Choices, embarassing moments, Weight Loss Tagged With: , ,
« Older Posts