So, my new favorite treats are these ah-maze-ing calcium supplements called, Adora. I adora them. Ba-dum-dum. When you can’t have chocolate OR chew anything all day, this lil’ sucker gives me just what I need. Like, a little prize for taking my calcium.
Speaking of little prizes, whenever I meet with a dear friend, I feel like I get special insights into life. Talking to this dear friend I acknowledged that I’ve come to place of acceptance about he way- I- am. It’s okay. I’m okay. I love me now. (I must tell you it’s taken a whole lotta therapy, prayer, and rethinking insane cultural beliefs to get here.) So part of me is a little sad to lose weight. I’ve accepted this independent, loving, wild at times, belly-laughing me. (By the way, my middle child has told me on a couple of occasions that my belly shakes like Santa when I laugh. I always think, lovely. Santa’s cool, right?) Anyway, back to this sad part of losing weight. I’ve come to feel protected by heaviness. There’s a certain amount of invisibility that comes with being overweight. Often, people look past you. And when you’re an introvert, this isn’t a bad thing. I don’t want to be the center of attention. So, I’m grieving my current self even before I lose weight. I feel like there’s a sense of comradery amongst women, when you know you’re not perfect and you love each other anyway. I don’t want to lose that. On some level, I know I won’t, but on another level, I feel like I’m more approachable because of my weight. I clearly look like I don’t have it all together. Does this make sense to anyone else?
So, today, in preparation for the walk with that dear friend, I shook the new shoebox-clean off those 2-year-old tennies. Walking with a friend is one thing, but I actually despise doing any sort of exercise out on the street in the hood by myself, because I just don’t want people looking at me. It makes me feel vulnerable. I can’t describe it any other way. It’s just one of my weird quirks. I will walk with a friend since I have someone to talk to, but walking by myself is just, ‘ew’. (If you haven’t seen this Jimmy Fallon video it’s hilarious.) I often say ‘ew’ just cuz it makes me laugh and then think of my friend Jimmy.
Grieving has many forms when you’re losing weight: a loss of the idea and way of indulgent living. I miss nachos right about now and chips & salsa with guacamole, carne asada, mashed potatoes, coffee and chocolate. I miss chewing and escaping into a hearty bowl or plate of food. Relearning how to eat at 43 is tough. As I made the family dinner tonight, it was all I could do not to take a bite. I’ve been spending a lot of time AWAY from the kitchen. I’m grieving that too. Cooking for my family and making them foods they love gives me a sense of pride. In a few months I’ll get to eat again solid foods again, so at least this isn’t forever. It’s just feels that way now.
I’ll leave you with this: A not-so-perfect story of losing 180 lbs. Real life isn’t a fairy tale. Jen Larson’s book: Stranger Here scroll down to view the video advertisement for her book.