Being Mindful and Proud of Your Decisions February 8, 2010

I like to think of myself as a smart girl. For the most part, I use my brain. But nearly every single day I make dumbass decisions that keep me from moving forward and accomplishing my goals. And the days that I don’t make a bad decision (or haven’t yet up until that point in a day) come as a complete surprise for me – like when I try to justify a particularly indulgent “treat” because I’ve already messed up the day and I realize that, no, I haven’t yet. Which always shocks me, but then because I just want the damn treat anyway I’ll use it as a “reward” for not have messed up the day. That’s just sick, isn’t it?

A lot of the time I don’t even recognize the decisions I make as actual *decisions.* They’re more like involuntary impulses – like saying “no” when my husband asks if I want to accompany him to the gym. Or mindlessly popping something in my mouth because it’s just there, and not because I’m hungry. Or instinctively digging through my purse looking for change for the vending machine after a particularly stressful meeting at work. All of these aren’t just reactions – they’re choices – and I’m making the wrong ones.

My body is telling in me in all kinds of little ways that I’m skating on the razor’s edge of some serious issues and if I don’t get my shit together, I’m in for even more significant challenges than I face today.

I’m trying to be more mindful of what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.

Today I’m asking myself “later today, when I look back at this decision, will I be proud?” before I make the decision/choice or take that action and really listen to the answer I give. Is it a straight yes/no? Is my Inner Fat Girl trying to persuade me with justifications? What need am I trying to meet, or what hurt am I trying to soothe? So far it’s been beneficial – there is a comfort in having an internal barometer to use as a tool to chart a more healthful course.

Today will be a good day.

Random February 4, 2010

Filing this in the shit-that-only-matters-to-me-and-I-just-need-to-dump-it-all-out department:

Work:

I won an award (as part of a team) today. Me and my sassy new haircut got to accept a shiny plaque in front of my 200-person department. Yay me. Later that afternoon I found out that I’m no longer going to be meeting with my Batshit Director any more. Nor will any of my colleagues. Why, you ask? Did she get canned? Sadly, no. But she has decided, and subsequently announced, that someone at my level does not meet with staff. Apparently “staff” is equivalent to, you know, vermin. Yay me?

Good enough to be an award-winner yet still just dirt on her shoe. Fantastic.

“Letting Go”:

#1 – So, this is one of my Happiness Project commandments and, I’ll tell you, it’s an interesting process. For someone actively working on happiness, some of these things just don’t make me happy. Some things are far easier to let go of than others. I’ve discovered that I’m not well-equipped to let go. I’m a grudge-holder and try as I might, I do. not. forget. anything. It’s annoying.

My husband did something crazy stupid a few months ago and it still festers within me. He has no clue of course because I smile on the outside and stuff down the “Gah!” with strawberry-flavored Twizzlers. It’s a chewy, tasty rage. Clearly more work needs to be done here.

#2 – I’d been going back-and-forth about letting go of a friendship, even though it’s been a few years since that relationship really had significant meaning. And I think the reason I held on for so long is because *I* kind of suck at keeping in touch. While this friend and I have some things in common, our lives are so dramatically different it’s laughable. I’m not in her league and we both know it. But since I’d felt guilt at how the friendship fell apart, I’ve sort of kept it “alive” if only in my head, thinking that one day I’d reach out and we’d reconnect.

It finally clicked for me that what I wanted most wasn’t the friendship – it was absolution. I can’t honestly picture being in each other’s lives the way it was, or in a way that would be meaningful. So, with some sadness, I am bidding that friend adieu. Goodbye, friend.

#3 – This last one is a “letting go” work in process. Several years ago I planned a wedding and stumbled onto a community of people who were doing the same. A semi-private offshoot of that community became a wonderful online home for me. Very cozy. Good people. Crazy people. People I’d grown to care a lot about (too much?). It’s been a good outlet for me in a lot of ways, but in others, it’s helped me put up walls and silo myself. For a long time it filled a need I had to be social without, um, really socializing. And, for me, it’s too easy to hibernate and hide.

There have been a few occasions that called me to question this “relationship” and I came this/close to leaving it once, only to get sucked back in (addicted much?). For as much good that has come out of it, I’ve discovered that lately it’s more of the “bad” that sticks with me. An incident two weeks ago was kind of the last straw for me. In terms of scope, it wasn’t monumental, but it stopped me from contributing. It’s been almost two weeks now. I miss it a bit, but it does get easier every day. It’s a good lesson about baby steps and discipline. As long as you keep moving forward, you’ll eventually get to where you’re going.

Weight Loss:

Yeah…um…notsomuch. I’m headed to Hawaii in 6 months and I’m going as my own beach ball. Sigh. That whole “moving forward” thing would be awesome if I’d just get out of my own way.

Happiness Project Update February 1, 2010

To be honest, I’m having some challenges gaining traction on this. “Life” keeps getting in my way. Go figure, right? Seems to be my pattern. But I have made some positive strides, and that’s worthy of celebration. So…yay strides!

Be Imperfect:
So…I’ve been thrown into a sink-or-swim project at work. For the most part I’m swimming, but it’s not with a high degree of personal confidence. See, decades of fat girl thinking has twisted my brain into believing that I need to work harder and smarter than my colleagues – because being fat is a flaw, dontchaknow. I’ve turned being fat into a personal indictment that I must overcome in every new situation. That said, I’ve never worked on this type of project, have no formal training, and no road map. We’re winging it. To say this has been unsettling is an understatement. Typically I would try to overcompensate for my insecurity by doing more than needed, not setting boundaries, working well into the night, etc. But my reaction to this situation post-Happiness Project has been different. My need-to-be-a-rock-star-self has had to put my ego on a shelf and accept that I’m *not* going to hit a home-run every time and that’s okay. “Being imperfect” has helped me begin to realize that work doesn’t define me, or perhaps most importantly, it doesn’t redeem or condemn me.

Love Myself
This is my theme for this month. Every day I am going to try to do (at least) one thing that is self-nurturing. Today, I planned and took a delicious and healthy lunch. Tomorrow, I’m getting a much-needed haircut, color, and eyebrow shaping.

Own My Crazy
Shortly after getting engaged, I warned my darling husband-to-be that I was, in fact, crazy. I told him that I have fears and anxieties that I couldn’t even describe. I eventually lost count of how many times over the months and years to follow that I tried to give him an “out” to save himself from my crazy. It’s only been recently that I’ve felt comfortable sharing some of those things – how and why I can immediately go to a dark place about the same kind of thing that someone else wouldn’t think twice about. And as scary as the dark place can be, I was even more fearful of revealing my “true self.” And now having done some it I can say that it *is* scary but it’s also quite the relief that what I see as “crazy” he sees as “quirky.”

More on the other commandents tomorrow…

Being My Own Valentine + Lent Challenge January 24, 2010

I’ve been struggling a bit on my Happiness Project. I make it too easy to make excuses based on what’s going on at work or at home or my overall mood. I find it easy to distract myself or get caught up in a melancholy state of mind.

For the next month I’m going to make a conscious effort to focus on two of my personal commandments: Let it Go and Love Yourself. I am finding myself dwelling on past hurts and disappointments a bit too much lately, and I wind up bringing them into my present. I can’t change the past, and I can’t change the decisions that I and others have made. So I need allow myself permission to forgive and move on.

For February, I’m going to be my own valentine and give myself the gift of the love and respect I deserve. Each day I will celebrate myself – my accomplishments, my good qualities, my favorite features. I will remind myself daily that I am worthy of good things, and worthy of the time and attention I routinely give to others instead of myself. It sounds so vain to say such things about myself but trust me when I say that I’m my own worst critic and coming up with these celebrations – and more importantly believing them – will be quite the challenge. I will post those celebrations here.

Speaking of challenges, I read about a Lent Challenge on Fat Bridesmaid’s blog and it got me thinking about a challenge I could do. Something that will teach me discipline and work to benefit my waistline (after all, this is a fat girl weight loss blog, right?) So, from February 17 through April 3 (46 days!), I will give up alcohol. It’s empty calories. It’s not conducive to weight loss. I’m indulging too much. It’s time.

More to come…

An Open Letter to My Inner Fat Girl January 17, 2010

Dear Inner Fat Girl,

Hi. We don’t normally take the time to chat, so this may be a bit of an awkward conversation, but let’s see how it goes. There’s a few things that I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.

First, please know that I hear you. All day, every day, I hear you. You needn’t shout. You needn’t make it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else. I hear you. And I understand you.

I know where you’re coming from. I know that you hurt. I know that you’ve been left, and that being left sucks. And I’m sorry for your pain. I understand why you lash out at me when you’re scared and frustrated – and when you’re afraid I will leave you. I know you don’t want to be alone. I know you say things to me that come from pain, not from the truth. I get it.

What I would like you to know is that it doesn’t have to be this way. I wrote a blog about exorcising you from me because, well, you’re mean. And I don’t deserve your cruelty. But if you work with me a little bit, I won’t try to send you away. You need to trust me that what I need to do for myself can make us both happy.

When I feed you new foods, it’s not to starve you. It’s to make us healthy and nourished. You need to help me by embracing this change and stop whispering about this food or that food until it makes me crazy. Please encourage me to prepare my meals in advance and discourage me from thinking I can “wing it.” You can’t possibly enjoy the crap I stuff down our throat when I’m in that situation.

When I get up the nerve to go to the gym, it’s not to punish you. It’s to help make us strong and powerful and confident. And, you know, the chance to wear some new and smaller clothes once in a while. Please help me by not being afraid of working hard. It might not be the easiest or most comfortable thing we’ll do, but we won’t die. And, you know as well as I do, that you don’t complain to me as much when you see that we’ve gone a little bit longer, or farther, or heavier. I promise that if you give me just a little bit of effort and a little less whining, I won’t go all Jillian Michaels on us. Pinky swear.

When I look into the mirror, please help me feel better about what I see. Be kinder to me. Instead of parroting back my own insecurities, try something new and pay me a compliment. Help me appreciate what I have now, and love myself for who and what I am today, so that I can feel hopeful and honest about creating a me that’s more “me.”

Don’t be afraid of losing our “armor.” It’s not a shell, and it’s not tough. It doesn’t protect us so much as it buries us. Losing it and become smaller will bring some changes, and some of those changes will be scary. Getting smaller in a lot of ways will make us seem “bigger.” People may notice us a little more, and pay more attention to us, and that can be a little squicky – but we can handle that. We’ll work through that together.

No matter how I change my body or my mind, I will always have you with me to remind me where I’ve come from. I love you, Inner Fat Girl. You have always been worthy of love, even if you didn’t believe it. I know you have done what you thought was best sometimes. I know you’ve tried to protect me from taking risks. I know you’ve tried to console my pain. You have taught me some valuable things throughout the years. How to be more compassionate to others who walk down this road. How to stay grounded and not get a big head. You’ve tried to care for me in the best way you know how. Now it’s time to let me take care of you and make you the best you can be. Please let me.

Help me want this as much for me as I want it. Be my partner. Be my friend.

Love,

Me & Inner Fit Girl

Fat Girl Fraud and Ninja Assassins January 14, 2010

Why are we our own worst enemy sometimes?
Why is it so much easier to do the wrong things for ourselves and harder to do what we need most?
Why is it so hard to find that right mental “place?”

Or are y’all just fine and it’s just me?

There have been times in my life – sporadic, I’ll admit – where I felt on track. On the wagon. Humming along. And each time, something happens and what was once working well suddenly just doesn’t. And what’s interesting is that the disruption is never a big thing. Big things I could understand. It’s always something subtle. A hiccup. And yet it doesn’t seem to matter – once derailed, you’re derailed.

I know what I should be doing for myself. I know what my goals are. I know each and every day I have a million opportunities to make a good choice and so many times I choose differently. Why do I do that? What am I waiting for? What do I need? What is the switch and where is it and how do you turn it on and keep it on? How do I get rid of this Fat Girl once and for all?

I come here every day trying to figure it out. Some days I think I get closer, and I get my hopes up that *this* is *it*…and then the very next day I just kind of throw it all out the window. And it makes me feel so fraudulent. I know the person I want to be and I miss the mark every day. And when I say that I’m not talking about being skinny or pretty or fabulously fashionable – I mean that the person I want to be is strong and disciplined and focused and doing what ought to be done.

Part of what I share here is for my own “therapy.” But another part is because I want to help other people NOT live the life I have lived. There is a vanity within me who makes me want to be a success story and a role model and an inspiration to other people. Because even if I don’t know you, I don’t want your 20 pounds to lose to become 40 pounds or 80 pounds or 160 pounds. No one (not even the lame-o’s in school who tormented me and my fat as as kid) should have to travel that road…it’s fraught with potholes and crazy ninja assassins lurking in the shadows. Yes. Ninja assassins. It SUCKS SO BAD.

I want to be the person I want to be. Make sense?

When I make my next choice, I want it to be a GOOD choice. Not only do I want it to be respectful of the person I want to be…and I want that person to be the person I am becoming.

Waiting for the Mothership to Take Me Home January 14, 2010

As we’ve discussed previously, I have a few addictions. One of the healthier ones I have is magazines. Lord do I love me my periodicals – everyone one that comes into my house is like a present waiting to be unwrapped by my squee-ful self. God Bless Amazon’s recent $5 holiday sale – got a lot of new subscriptions as Christmas gifts and I treated myself to some new ones to “explore.”

Like Harper’s Bazaar.

Sweet Jesus.

Have you seen this magazine? I fully admit that I’m more frumpanista than fashionista and I. do. not. get. anything related to high fashion or style or what-have-you. But I’m trying new things and why not learn and so, hello, Harper’s Bazaar.

I wish I had a video of myself flipping through this magazine. I felt like an alien sent here on an anthropology mission. $7,000 butt-ass-ugly shoes that cannot POSSIBLY be structurally sound for, you know, walking? $4,000 for a “dress” comprised of fisherman’s nets? Models with sullen, sunken faces and flattened hair that more resemble the twin girls from The Shining than anything remotely “hot model” (I mean, models are supposed to be hot, right??).

To provide context, I provide Exhibit A, subtitled “The Fuck?”

Harper’s Bizarre is more like it. And the PURSES! Half the ads in this magazine are purses and while I can appreciate that, like shoes, purses are some girls’ “thing” but let’s be real, here – 85 pound girls in stilettos carrying bags the size of an SUV is just unnatural. How do they ever find their lip gloss in those things? (Although I *did* kind of like a Prada bag that was only as big as a VW Bug. So, perhaps it’s possible there is *some* hope for me after all.)

Of course, I suppose I could have avoided this entire debacle by just looking at the cover. Miley Cyrus. Enough said.

Beam me up, Scotty, this planet’s not for me.

Exercises: A History of Weight January 11, 2010

Continued from this post.

EXERCISE 7: Weight History
A history of weight, events in life around that weight, and feelings about it.

This exercise? Sucked. So many opportunities to keep going instead of slipping back. Ugh.

Close to 200 – 11 years old?
On a school camping trip. Realizing for the first time how grossly overweight I was compared to my classmates

246 – High school graduation
My gown was the wrong size and shorter than most everyone else’s, felt like an outcast

199 – 20 years old
Had been dieting and then caught a horrific stomach flu. Was in bed from Christmas Eve until New Year’s Eve. Crazy excited and happy to be under 200.

255 – 23 years old?
Was standing up in a wedding and my measurements were outside traditional bridesmaid’s sizing – dress had to be “custom made” at twice the expense. Humiliated. Had made a birthday goal of weighing 250. Fell short by 5 pounds. Fell off the wagon.

316 – 27 years old
Starting a new job that I hated. First attempt at WW. Horrified.

257 – 29 years old
WW successful. Infatuated with someone. Fired by job I hated. Not sure where life is headed.

276 – 30 years old
New job downtown and surrounded by food. Broke up with boyfriend. Eating my way to oblivion.

308 – 31 years old
Second attempt at WW. Laid off

340 – 32 years old
Third attempt at WW. Had to buy an industrial scale to weigh myself as I exceeded most commercially-available models.

300 – 33 years old
WW going well. Exercising regularly. Started to meet new people through WW. New job. Felt like a new lease on life.

262 – 33 years old
Feeling “skinny” – shed 24/28 for 18/20 in some clothes. Dipped toe back in dating pool. Met love of my life. So exhilarating I’d actually forget to eat.

276 – 34 years old
In lurve. Starting to slip. Promotion at work. Lots going on. Less time for WW meetings and workouts. Easier to grab fast food at work.

290 – 35 years old
Engaged. Comfortable. Discovered red wine and drinking more of it. Trying to figure out how to rearrange my life. Stressed about planning a wedding and being the center of attention. Began therapy.

305 – 36 years old.
Trying on wedding dresses and dealing with family drama.

315 – 36 years old
Wedding day

330 – 37 years old
Newly married. Found out I’m about to lose job in company sale. Therapist relocating to California. Serious mental anguish.

370 – 38 years old
Changed jobs. Hate environment, not sure I made right choice. Have to learn everything new. Free bagels and pastries every Tuesday/Thursday. Eating everything in sight. Having chest pains – scared it was a heart attack. Diagnosed with pancreatitis and had to have gallbladder removed.

354 – 39 years old
Trying to lose 40 for my 40th birthday. Feeling hopeful

334 – 40th birthday
Didn’t hit the mark but felt good getting closer to my wedding weight. Lowest weight I’d see

353 – 40 years old – 4th anniversary
Not even sure why the wheels fell off but I gained nearly 20 pounds in 20 weeks.

354 – Today.

Exercises: “The Thin Me” and “The No’s Of Being Thin” January 10, 2010

Continued from this post.

EXERCISE 5: The Thin Me

List the qualities you associate with being thin. Describe the thin you. This you is most assuredly different from the fat you in what you say, do, wear. Who is this you?

The Thin Me is…
happy
sexy
confident
adventurous
understanding
compassionate
forgiving
eager
laughing
smiling
shopping
active
energetic
healthy
posing for and sharing photos
alive

The Thin Me Wears Clothes That Are…
fitted
fashionable
belted
colorful
flattering
varied
available in any store
classic
tailored
inexpensive
age-appropriate

When I Am At a Party, the Thin Me…
finds a comfy spot
chats up friends
gets other people drinks
can squeeze through a crowded room

When I Am Alone, the Thin Me…
nurtures herself
finds less distractions
does more around the house
enjoys the garden
still tries to look nice
pampers herself

The Thin Me Deserves…
love
appreciation
respect
compassion
kindness

Note to Self: The Fat Me deserves these things, too.

EXERCISE 6: The No’s of Being Thin

Being Thin Means I Can’t…
comfort or reward myself with food
blame my fat for various misfortunes or unhappiness
take maintenance for granted
judge thin people for “only” having to lose a small amount of weight

Exercises: “The Fat Me” January 10, 2010

Continued from this post.

EXERCISE 3: The Fat Me
The Fat Me is…
anxious
tired
in pain
sad
lonely
self-conscious
constrained
dubious
defeated
not who I want to show the world
fearful
resigned
frumpy
invisible
awkward
not pretty
plain
timid
shy
reclusive
embarrassed
cautious

The Fat Me Wears Clothes That Are…
dark
elastic
shapeless
not flattering
repetitive
generic
expensive
frumpy
bought online
safe
oversized
non-provocative

When I Am At a Party, the Fat Me…
covets the food and drink
tries to find a quiet corner and comfy chair
tries to get others to bring her things
tries not to move
is never really comfortable
shies away from small talk
doesn’t want to meet new people rather than to stick to those she knows
wants to leave early

When I Am Alone, the Fat Me…
cries
eats
plans out how not to be fat
distracts herself
feels safe
wishes she could fast forward her life

The Fat Me likes…
creature comforts
familiarity
old friends who don’t judge
anonymity
not rocking the boat
hiding food
not feeling pressured
feeling safe