Time for Change
I am one of those unfortunate women who look in the mirror and doesn’t actually see what everyone else sees. By this, I mean that, for several years, I’ve had no real concept of just how big I’ve really gotten. An incident at dinner recently finally gave me the wake-up call I’ve needed.
An Unflattering Discovery
I was eating at a Chinese restaurant with a friend when I happened to glance in a decorative mirror placed on the other side of the room. This mirror gave me the perfect view of my profile, and while I’m sorry I had to see this view, I’m also glad for the opportunity it provided. Because the truth is that I’ve been deluding myself about just how much weight I’ve truly gained over the years.
From the vantage point I’ve described (I could see myself from the side), my stomach looked like a beach ball sitting on my lap. I could see the bulge in my arms, the double chin in my face, even the creases in my neck. I felt nothing less than ashamed, and more than a little stupid. After looking at myself multiple times a day, every single day for as long as I can remember, how could I have missed these blatant physical changes?
After seeing my reflection, I couldn’t finish my dinner. To be honest, I couldn’t even start it. We hadn’t yet been served, and the thought of putting any food into my mouth made me feel sick. So I feigned a headache and ended the night early, opting to take my food home in a to-go container (I ended up throwing it in the dumpster as soon as I pulled into my apartment complex). Of course I said nothing to my friend about what I had seen in that tell-tale mirror; I kept my revelation to myself.
My Deceptive Lifestyle
Part of the reason I felt so sick that night is because I’ve managed to deceive myself for so long. That horrible reflection is my own doing. Take, for instance, my daily habits. I can’t remember the last time I ate something healthy. I justify this by saying I’m too busy to cook, which may very well be true. But I’m not too busy to snack on raw vegetables or yogurt instead of chips and cookies. My favorite foods are Doritos and mashed potatoes. And forget about exercise; the most physically taxing thing I’ve done as of late is make my bed.
This battle with myself, and my weight, has waged long enough. I’m tired of letting food rule my life, and I’m disgusted with the fact that each and every day, I eat exactly what I want (think peanut butter sandwiches and honey barbecue potato chips followed by a handful of candy) only to feel guilty afterward. The self-destructive behavior has to stop. I need to get healthy from both a mental and physical standpoint.
I’ve allowed myself to get this big because I’ve grown accustomed to defeat. I have two failed marriages under my belt, I am financially strapped because my income just barely pays my bills, and I’m not yet the successful author I’d like to be. But these thoughts will rule me no more. I’m taking action, and I’m going to document my journey every step of the way so I can look back on the person I was and compare it to the person I will someday be. And that person will not be covered in fat, mired in excuses, or drowning in pity.