I am not hugely overweight. I definitely need to lose about 40 pounds or so, but I am not so overweight that it is hard for me to be active or play with my kids or get up off the floor. And yet, I am uncomfortable. I have been slowly putting on weight over the last five years or so, starting mostly during Norm's last deployment and putting on several more pounds during the first part of his current deployment. I eat to relax. When the kids are all finally in bed and the house is quiet, I find some ice cream or cookies to de-stress. I am at the heaviest I have ever been, and I'm really starting to notice that I am uncomfortable. It is getting harder to find clothes that fit me right. When I sit, a roll of fat on my belly pushes against the underwire on my bra, and it hurts. I find that when I come home I like to change into sweats or yoga pants because they are more comfortable. I am feeling that I am "fat" more than ever.
But beyond the physical effects of my extra weight, I'm finding that it's starting to affect me emotionally as well. I guess it always has, a little. But this is different. This time I'm doubting my abilities as a result of my weight. And I'm not talking my ability to run five miles (because we all know that's not going to happen!). I'm talking about my ability to do my job well. I don't think people see me as capable because if I can't even keep my weight under control, how can I do anything else right? I am afraid to try. I am afraid to hope for more. I am afraid to be confident. I know I'm good at my job, actually. It was the job that was meant for me, and I do it well. I know that. I just don't think anyone else does.
I never think people like me when they first meet me. I always think I have to "grow on" them. I think that the first thing people see about me is that I'm fat. I think that their first impression of me must be that I am not as good at others, based on my weight. I know it doesn't make any sense. I try to talk myself out of feeling these things. But still, they remain. I hate shopping, I hate having my picture taken, I hate going to the pool or beach. My weight limits me, or maybe I limit myself based on my weight.
So it's time for it to stop. It's time for me to take my life in my own hands and do something about it. It's not going to be easy...my life is stressful right now as a pseudo-single mother with a husband in the Middle East. There's not a lot of time for exercise, or cooking healthy, or even grocery shopping for the fresh ingredients I need to eat right. But those are all just excuses, aren't they? Yep, it will be hard. But if it's not hard, it's not worth doing.
I have nine and a half weeks until New York City. My goal is to lose twenty pounds before that trip. It's a big goal, one that Norm says is too ambitious and I may be setting myself up for failure. But I think it's possible. I'll need to lose more after that, but it's a start. It's just over two pounds a week, and I know I can do that. I want to shop in NYC and not be embarrassed about the size I'm trying on. I want to feel good in my own skin. I can do this. And it starts today.