On Losing Weight and Gaining Myself
Posted: 2/9/2006
As long as I can remember, my weight has been an issue. I think I’ve been truly skinny only once in my life: when I was 30 and going through a divorce. Mostly, I’ve been overweight, chubby, or just average. I’ve never been comfortable in my skin.
I am 5-foot 3-inches tall and blessed with big bones and wide shoulders. No matter how skinny I get, I must always buy a “large” top to fit those shoulders—this is not confidence building.
Coupled with my weight problem (or maybe because of it), I have always been very shy. I do not make “small talk” and I feel very self-conscious in crowds. I don’t do well at parties where I don’t know anyone—I never felt that I had anything interesting to say to strangers.
When I was about six years old, my mother enrolled me in dance class to help with my shyness. There were around 10 of us in class. We performed at several functions and at the county fair, always in front of strangers. Surprisingly, for being as shy as I am, I did fine. I danced the steps I was supposed to, paid attention to the music, and pretty much ignored the people watching me. If I didn’t think about how many people were watching me, I didn’t mess up. It also helped that I was extremely near-sighted.
It wasn’t until 4th grade that my parents realized I needed glasses. With my glasses on, I was even shyer. I mean, who would want to be with a four-eyed, chubby girl? I felt ugly and just wanted to hide away from everyone. Food was a wonderful medicine.
I remember every negative comment people have made about my weight, whether it was my ex-husband, my mother, my friends, or some off-the-wall person on the street who said it. It didn’t matter whether the person was joking—each comment piled onto the other painful comments made about my weight or appearance. Coupled with that, my mother was very critical of me and made me feel worthless and stupid (in hindsight, I don't think she meant to do it; it was just that any criticism made me feel small). So what did I do? I ate more.
In high school, things got worse. We moved to a new town and I didn’t know anyone at my new school. The school was small in a tiny California coast town where everybody went through elementary and junior high school together. I was the “new” kid who lived an hour away from school. Because we lived so far away, I couldn’t really go to football games, dances, or participate in after school activities. It was an isolating experience.
It wasn’t all bad--I did get contact lenses in my junior year, so I felt a little better about my appearance. My family moved back to Santa Maria after junior year and I spent my senior year away from my family so I could finish high school at the same school. I felt more independent and a little more confident.
But that year, some boy said to me that most girls with my kind of “belly” were promiscuous and was I interested in doing “it” with him? Talk about an earth-shattering experience! Did everyone think I was promiscuous just because I was fat? Rather than lose weight, I ate ice cream to soothe my hurt feelings. (And of course, I told him “No!”)
I went to college 238 miles away from home (yes, I knew the exact mileage!). It was far enough away from my parents that they couldn’t come to visit at inopportune times, nor did I have to live at home. Left on my own, I discovered the joys of 7-11 quick foods and frozen Sara Lee cheesecakes.
I married someone I met at college; he was kind and paid attention to me and I thought he was charming; he was also a paraplegic. Planning a wedding 238 miles away and going to school kept me so busy that I forgot to overeat. I dropped 25 pounds—my wedding dress was actually a little big on our wedding day.
For the first few years, everything was fine. I gained back some of the weight and then I’d lose some—typical roller coaster weight fluctuations. If things went wrong, I’d eat to console myself; if things were great, I’d eat to celebrate. When I was busy, I’d forget to eat. Sometimes, I tried different diets to lose weight. (Anyone remember the cabbage diet?)
When I was pregnant, I gained 30 pounds. Considering that I was 20 pounds overweight before I was pregnant, it was a lot more than I needed to gain. I lost almost all of my pregnancy weight within 6 months, but I still had that extra 20 pounds hanging on.
My now-ex-husband teased me about my weight or made “cute” comments about my weight, none of which I appreciated. I’d console myself with some mashed potatoes and gravy, or beans, rice, and tortillas with lots of cheese. Between work and the baby, my days were full. My now-ex-husband wanted to go places every weekend, and I didn’t want to go. All I saw ahead of me for the weekend was work, not fun: in addition to taking care of my baby on the road and carrying her and the necessary baby paraphernalia, I also had to help him up and down curbs, in and out of cars, hold doors open, and so on. I’d rather stay at home, where everything was easily accessible and I didn’t have to carry it with me or worry that I’d left it behind.
When my now-ex-husband left me for another woman, I felt that I deserved it—I was fat and not attractive. Why wouldn’t he want to be with someone skinny and pretty who could pay complete attention to him? I was worried how I would be able to take care of my daughter and make ends meet. That worry translated into me not eating for about a month. I lost 40 pounds in a month, not a very healthy thing to do. Yet, even though I became skinny, I was still unhappy with the way I looked. My now-ex-husband didn’t come back, so I must be unattractive.
It took me several months to get back to a point where I was eating two small meals a day. My weight stabilized at the new level of 113 pounds. I started dressing “skinny” (slim dresses, shorts, shirts that tucked in) instead of “fat” (dresses with no waist, large shapeless shirts over a pair of slacks with an elastic waist). Guys started asking me out and I was beginning to feel that I wasn’t so ugly after all. And then I met John.
John was a work friend. We went out a few times. I realized right away that it was special. (it took him a little longer to figure it out!) He has a wonderful capacity for making me feel loved and accepted for myself, and he doesn’t have to say it out loud. With John, I felt happy and not as stressed, and I started relaxing about my weight. I gained some of my weight back, but it was a healthy amount and I didn’t look skeletal anymore. John and I married five years after we started dating.
Weight-wise, things were OK for a long time. My weight started creeping up, but I was so happy that I really didn’t care. John never made any negative comments about my weight, so I didn’t feel like I was being judged. And then I had to have a hysterectomy at 42 years old.
My body changed radically after surgery. Recovery took 8 weeks and most of that time I was in bed. My weight started creeping up again. I took hormones to prevent early menopause symptoms and they affected my skin—I started getting brown spots on my face. Losing weight became extremely difficult.
As my weight increased, my self-confidence decreased. I started feeling ugly again; I wouldn’t let anyone take any pictures of me unless there was no way to avoid it. John was wonderful and didn’t say anything about my weight gain. I pretty much resigned myself to that fact that I would never be regular-sized (much less skinny) again.
With the increased weight, my blood pressure climbed. My OB/GYN put me on blood pressure medication and told me to lose weight. He made it sound like it was an easy thing to do: “Just stop eating so many cookies!” (I never said I ate lots of cookies. Why would he assume that?!) Every year, he made the same kind of comments. One time, he was out on a sabbatical and I had my appointment with one of his partners who said pretty much the same thing. Neither one offered any direction, just criticism. And I just kept gaining weight.
Eventually, I changed doctors. My current doctor is female and takes the time to listen. She changed my blood pressure medication, lightened my hormone medication to help reduce the brown spots, and recommended adding more activity to my life. She started teaching a yoga class and suggested that I give it a try.
I started taking her yoga class three years ago. I was ready to try to move my body. I really don’t like exercising in front of people, but I felt that I needed something. So I put on a pair of yoga pants and my 1x T-shirt (not tucked in, of course) and off I went to class.
That first class was an eye-opener. I couldn’t move like I used to; I was very out of shape. AND, I couldn’t do some of the positions because my fat got in the way. How embarrassing! However, I kept going back because I was not only moving my body, but I was learning about being comfortable with myself, learning to calm my mind, and learning not to compare myself to others and be happy where I was in yoga.
While I was becoming more flexible and learning to be more at peace with myself because of yoga, I still had all this extra weight to carry around. I tried walking for exercise several times a week, but I just wasn’t into it and it wasn’t helping. I stopped walking and kept going to yoga class. For a couple of years, this was OK, but I was still unhappy with my weight and still dodged every camera (and mirror) that I could.
I gave away all of my “gazelle” clothes because I just knew I wouldn’t ever be able to wear them again. I couldn't wear my wedding ring anymore, but my attitude was "Oh well, I guess I won't be able to wear that ever again" rather than "I better do something about this!" I had resigned myself to being overweight for the rest of my life, mostly because everything I tried didn't work. I “settled” into being a fat woman—I told myself that I’d better get used to it, because I’d never be any different.
Then, the epiphany—after my annual exam and blood work, my doctor called me at work. (You know, it’s never good news when your doctor calls you at work.) My blood work results were not good at all. My triglycerides (plus some other things that I can’t remember) were high. She said that if I didn’t do something, I’d develop diabetes. She recommended exercise and a change in my diet: “Eliminate white—rice, sugar, flour, potatoes. Try one of those diets that limit bad carbs.”
That scared me. I’ve watched my mother-in-law deal with her diabetes and talked to my mother about hers. I didn’t want to go through that, plus I was tired of being fat. I did a little research online and quickly eliminated Atkins as a possibility. I’d already tried the Zone diet a few years back and had gained weight on it. I didn’t want to do Weight Watchers because I didn’t want to deal with the meetings and weigh-ins and that whole counting points thing. The only diet that sounded right for me was South Beach.
The next day I went on the South Beach Diet and started a walking program. I joined the online South Beach site and started journaling my progress. I started losing some weight, but after 3 weeks realized that walking was not enough. It exercised my legs and heart, but the rest of my body was not getting enough exercise.
I knew that the closest gym was 24-Hour Fitness, but I also knew that a lot of its members were young and were already very fit—I didn’t want to get de-motivated right from the start. I found a local circuit gym (similar to Curves) and did a free trial. I loved it! It was exactly what I wanted. I joined the gym and started working out 3 days a week, increasing that to 4 and 5 days a week as I saw the pounds come off faster. For me, the combination of South Beach and the circuit gym was working great! As I gained strength from my workouts, I started running one day a week.
As I started losing weight, my clothes stated getting too baggy and I had to get new works clothes. One of the best days was when I was able to shop in the regular section of a department store instead of the plus-size section. Wow! That was a real rush! And when I bought my first pair of single-digit size jeans—unbelievable!
I started my diet and exercise program 8/27/04. I have lost 63 pounds and 4 dress sizes (as another gym member put it, I’ve lost a small child’s worth of weight!). My 2005 lab results show that everything is normal! My doctor called my results “Excellent” and has taken me off of the blood pressure medication! Bonus!!
The best part of the whole thing is my mental well-being. With working out or running six (or seven) days a week, I have a lot of time to think things through (when I’m not chatting with other members…and, yes, I can talk AND exercise at the same time. Who knew?!). I’m using some of my yoga teachings to calm my mind and am learning to put things in perspective.
I’ve learned that
- I need to care more about what I think of myself than what other people think of me. This is an ongoing battle as I’ve had many years of practice at thinking that people look down on me.
- I need to let go of the stuff not worth holding onto, psychologically speaking. While I don’t “sweat the small sh!t” when it comes to my family, I tend to obsess about every little detail about myself.
- It’s OK if someone doesn’t like me. It doesn’t make me (or them) any less of a person. It simply means that our personalities are not compatible. I can live with that.
- I like exercising. Again, who knew? I’ve avoided exercise my whole life because it wasn’t fun. I just hadn’t picked the right kind or hadn’t been in the right mind-set.
- Being attractive is much more attitude than appearance.
- Being happy with who you are makes people happy to be with you.
- If I put my mind to it, I can accomplish difficult tasks. Losing 63 pounds was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Keeping it off will be the next big challenge.
- I am a worthwhile person and I have something to offer to other people. I am a good friend, a good mother, and a good partner.
- My husband is one of the most supportive people I’ve ever known, and he loves me for who I am not what I look like. And, boy, has he had to be supportive through the last year!
Could I have learned all this without losing the weight? Maybe someone else could have, but not me. It was only by losing the weight that I could see the real me underneath.
© 2001-2010 Marie Novicki,