My weight has been a constant battle for me, probably since middle school. I've lost, regained, re-lost, and regained over and over again. Every time I regain the pounds, they bring their friends along and I end up weighing more than I did when I started.
The most I've ever lost was in 1999/2000. My friend was getting married, and I was one of the maids of honor. One night in June (1999) she and I went to look at bridesmaid dresses, along with a few of the other attendants. I was a size 26. The other girls ranged from sizes 2 through 8. It was ok until I came out of the dressing room and looked at myself in the mirror. For the rest of the time we were in the bridal shop, I bit back tears. When I got finally home, I just sobbed.
The next day, I joined Weight Watchers. I was so motivated and so disciplined that I lost 8 1/2 pounds in the first week. By the time Michelle's wedding came around I had lost 62 pounds. My dress was so big on me they had to take it apart and practically rebuild it. It was WONDERFUL.
Me & Michelle, June 2000
(not the rebuilt dress, but you get the idea)
Me & my brother, Christmas 2000
I kept the weight off for a little while, but over time, with help from various factors, it all came creeping back. And, as usual, it's brought friends. Today I weigh about 25 pounds more than I did the day I'd joined Weight Watchers in 1999.
Larry, Lucas & me, October 2008
I've tried to lose weight again several times since, but never with the same resolve that I'd had back then. I've struggled with not caring, then "I am the way God made me; God doesn't make mistakes" and now... "I should be taking better care of the body God gave me." Someone else recently put it this way - she doesn't feel she can do God's work if she isn't taking care of her body (I'm paraphrasing - I didn't write it down at the time).
Those last two statements are the ones I'm dwelling on now. I
should be taking better care of the body God gave me. I'm not going to be able to do His work if my knees and back are causing me so much pain. This was very evident to me one night recently when I was serving at church and I'd needed to get up and down from the floor four or five times. How am I going to teach small children (or play with my own) if I can't move?? At 36, this should not be the enormous struggle that it is.
This realization should be enough to motivate me, right? Apparently not. I know HOW to lose weight. I know WHAT to do. So WHY don't I do it?
This has been weighing so heavily (no pun intended, but it sure fits) on my mind lately. I hate the way I feel. I see my reflection in a glass door and I hate the way I look. I see my face in my car window and think I look fat and angry. I am fat. And I
am angry. I'm angry at myself, for not fixing this. I'm angry at myself for letting it get this bad in the first place. BUT... in church right now we're talking about change, and how we can't change ourselves but follow God and let Him make the changes within us. (I hope I'm getting that right... anyone??)
I debate about joining Weight Watchers again. It has to be the online version, because I don't have time for meetings (I'm in school 3 nights a week) and meetings cost so much more. I do this bit in my head: "I don't want to spend the money. I don't want to track every little thing I eat. I don't want to be limited." Then again, I don't want to go to work every day, but I do it because I have to.
So the question remains... do I rejoin, or do I not? Why is it such a difficult decision? Am I trying to change myself, or is this inner battle I seem to be having right now God's way of making the changes in me? And if that's the case... why am I resisting Him?