Category: Re-invention

Thin is a Feminist Issue

This is going to be an uncomfortable and difficult post. I’m not really sure how many people read this blog, but I felt I needed to write this post regardless of the pushback I may get. And may deserve.

It’s been a few years since I’ve been on my losing weight trek. I had no idea if I’d make the kind of progress I have in this last iteration. Over the years I’ve quit and fallen in with the fat positive movement. But that never satisfied me. I always rebooted my weight loss goals. It unnerves me when anyone fat shames, including me, but accepting myself in an obese size has never felt right.

This post is for women who were once thin– women who were once athletic, attractive, and whose body would be considered by most in society… sexy. So many of the stories I’ve read about women who’ve lost a lot of weight start out this way, “I was always overweight. As a child, I was bullied… etc.” This is not me and not the story for a lot of women who find themselves (somewhat hopelessly) overweight in middle age. Social media has only exacerbated the pressure to look our best.

I’ve spent a lot of time wading through the complex psychology that led me to gain (and retain) so much weight. But always, always, in the back of my mind was my memory of the me that used to be. I’ve wanted to reclaim my identity for as long as I can remember. Well, specifically, since about 1992 when I was last a size 10 and had great sex with an a former colleague in England.

Let’s talk candidly about beauty. The truth of the matter is: beauty is empowering. Beauty and sex appeal is a cudgel. It’s a tool women can leverage effortlessly, while pretending they’re not. Women long for equality and agency, but they are stack-ranked against the ideals society places on them. This stack-ranking includes how attractive, or at the very least, how thin they are. It’s just a fact.

I encourage you to read this piece by Susi Orbach who wrote the original, “Fat is a Feminist Issue.” She outlines all the hazards of this obsession with female perfect body types, but it falls short in acknowledging the freedom and power thinness delivers to the western woman.

The physical transformation I am going through is significant. In short, I want my life back. I crave that agency I once owned. A great example for me is the superstar vocalist, Adele. Take a look at her before and after. Now, of course, Adele is a performer in the entertainment industry who lives in the spotlight. But the effects of this reinvention is available to all of us. Granted, Adele can afford to spend a lot more on trainers, perfect food choices, and therapy, but the same before and after results are within reach to the average person, if you focus on the outcome.

Adele lost over 100lbs. She’s talked candidly about how it’s made a difference in not only her physical health, but her mental health.

I’m a grandmother. I have a grandson in an MBA program. But, it’s not too late for me. I realized my shadow self (just like Generative AI!) wants to get out. I want to be the woman I was before I became so damaged that I felt I need to wear a fat suit of armor.

I’m getting there.

Thanks for reading, and I sincerely hope I have not offended anyone. This blog is about my personal experience, and I bear no judgment on anyone’s personal choices about how they wish to live their life.

“Trackers are Winners”

That was one of the first things she said to me. Nikki, that is. She’s the woman I am going to hire as my trainer if a job I’m waiting on comes through.

I processed my last big question I was wrestling with in my last post for a week. ICYMI, here it is: “Am I sufficiently psychologically fit to be physically fit?” I came to the conclusion the answer was probably no, but I need to do it anyway.

Over the weekend, I decided to sign up for the pricey gym where I used to be a member here in Austin in 2011. The gym has gone through changes, but it’s still a beautiful facility. It’s even more beautiful, actually. Bonus: they’ve added a Pickleball program.

I asked around about trainers and was pointed to Nikki who would be the best in-house trainer who’d be able to understand what I’ve been going through and get me to where I want to be.

I spoke to Nikki for about an hour at the gym. I showed her my charts, read her my numbers, told her my story… She was empathetic and supportive. I was particularly happy with her, “Trackers are winners” comment, as I’m still obsessed with all my health data. It will be interesting to share this data with someone in a collaborative way to make adjustments to my progress.

The investment in the gym and Nikki will be trés cher. I’ve rationalized the expense by recalling what my South Dakota wellness coach asked me, “What would your life be like if you reached your weight goal?” Again, it hit me like a ton of bricks that EVERYTHING in my life would be better. When someone shows you a crystal ball sneak preview of your potentially amazing life… it’s not something you can ignore or dismiss.

How much would you pay to radically improve your life? I’ll bet the answer is a lot.

I should hear about the new job in the next few weeks. In the meantime, I have made the commitment to go to the gym every week. I will keep you posted, as usual.

Incidentally, I did the math. If I lose 2lbs* a week, I could get to my goal in 7.7 months. That puts me at the end of 2023.

*When I began seriously changing the way I eat, I averaged about 1lb loss a week. But, during that year, I did not have a trainer or a rigorous exercise program. So, this number may be too optimistic, but it can suffice as a goal for now.

The Final Countdown

The perfect opener for this post is this over-the-top video of the song by Swedish band Europe with its big hair, 80s metal vibe.

As you know, I’ve written on this blog about how losing weight has a lot more to do with psychology than biology. I have been writing this blog for almost FIFTEEN years. So, 15 years a slave to obesity.

Obviously, I’ve made more progress than ever in the past few years, and I’m proud of that. But, the truth is, I have a psychological block about reaching that final destination. I’m exploring that out loud here on this page.

Why?

Well, let’s start with today in 2023: I’ve started dating again. I don’t look so terrible that I would be embarrassed to show up on a blind date. (I’m using a dating app, and that’s essentially what they are, blind dates where you have an inkling of who the other person is, but not much more than that.) Yet, I know I’m still too overweight to be attractive to the opposite sex. Or, at least attractive enough to the type of guy my 20-year old self would be attracted to at my age.

It’s complicated. On the one hand, maybe I should lower my standards and embrace where I fit in on the dating totem pole at this stage in my life. But, on the other hand, I could make the commitment, buckle down, and reach my goal weight. Be thin again. Be attractive again (even at this age).

Option number 2 opens up a Pandora’s box. It literally leaves me vulnerable to getting seriously hurt or further damaged. Option number 1 is pretty much unrealistic, as this is not how I’m wired.

So, I’m at an impasse– stuck in a sandtrap in my mind.

If I lean into option #2, I have already done the research on how to do it. The gym that I love, where I was a member before here in Austin, has everything I need to progress toward my goal. I would hire a trainer and launch, “The Final Countdown.” I’d have to get more diligent cutting back on carbs/sugar and reducing my alcohol intake. All of it would be difficult, expensive, and time-consuming. In many ways, it would be like starting from the beginning because this last leg of the journey would be the most demanding.

Am I sufficiently psychologically fit to be physically fit?

That is what I’m asking myself.

The Lovin’ Spoonful

I used to say that losing weight when you’re “morbidly obese” is like trying to empty a swimming pool with a teaspoon. It takes enduring patience and a lot of time. Most everyone eventually gives up somewhere along the way. It’s tedious and frustrating at the same time.

I’ve been thinking about that analogy lately, as I’m still emptying that pool– one teaspoon at a time.

This morning I weighed myself and I am at my lowest weight in nearly three decades of struggling with weight loss. Yet, according to my doctor and my BMI, I am still morbidly obese. According to my own progress chart, I’ve lost about half the weight (55lbs)* I wanted to lose since I began this new effort in April 2021. Yet, I still have 67lbs to go to get to where I want to be.

With this knowledge, I decided this morning to reframe that “spoonful” to associate with a great song that came out in 1965 when I was a child: Do You Believe in Magic? by The Lovin’ Spoonful.

One of the most popular TV sitcoms in that era was Bewitched, another one of my favorites from my childhood. If I were Samantha (the SAHW), I could have twitched my nose and lost all my weight in an instant.

But, that’s not how it works in the real world.

In the real world, it’s a slog.

That said: it is a labor of love. It’s an extreme expression of self-love and self-care. To keep going, you need to encourage yourself, tell yourself you’re worth it, tell yourself you deserve to be the very best version of yourself you can be. Perhaps it’s a form of healthy narcissism.

I believe in the magic of my young girl’s heart. Hence, I continue slowly, but surely.

I see the “reinvented” me in the distance, a little hazy on the horizon. But my eyes are locked on her like a heat-seeking missile.

Onwards, with love.

*to be fair to myself, I’ve lost 70.3lbs from my highest weight in the summer of 2017.

Me 1.0

This journey that I’ve been on is a journey of self-preservation.

It’s more than just an interest in losing weight. It’s about reclaiming my identity.

I’m not looking for a mate; I’m postmenopausal.

I’m looking for myself. I’m looking to become, again, the person that I was before life’s tragedies interfered with my body type.

So it’s bigger.

It’s a bigger, bigger challenge and a more interesting path that I’m on.

Losing the weight I’ve carried all these years is a monumental step toward the healing I’ve been working on the past few years.

It’s a way, metaphorically, to erase– to disappear– all the layered anguish and self-protection.

To allow myself to be myself free from fear.

Addendum: I’m currently at the lowest weight since I began this blog in 2008. I’ve also finally broke through into the 30s in BMI. So, it’s working. Slowly, but surely.

It’s been… a YEAR

Today marks one full year I’ve been on my trek to lose weight. I started blogging here again a couple weeks later. This blog has been a motivating factor to persevere. Thanks to everyone following and occasionally leaving me comments. I appreciate you!

First of all, losing a massive amount of weight is hard. No doubt. Especially if your goal is not to lose it suddenly and then regain it. My goal has been all along to CHANGE the way I live. I am not sure if I had an addiction to (bad) food, but I do know it was a comfort I could easily indulge in privately. I don’t do that anymore and that is real progress, a victory.

On the weight loss itself, I’m disappointed. Over the course of 52 weeks, I’ve only lost a total of 47.3 lbs. That averages out to about .9 (nearly a pound) a week. You can see from the chart, starting at the end of the hockey stick slope upward in the beginning of 2021, I consistently kept losing throughout 2021 and now into 2022. I have not faltered or regained any weight. It’s been a steep slope downwards.

That good news aside, I realized today I need to work harder at this. I still have 75.4 lbs to lose to reach my goal weight. I will need to make the mental, maybe financial, commitment to get there.

One of the questions my wellness coach asked me when I first started with her was this: “How would your life be different if you met your goal weight?” That question stunned me. I knew my answer instantly. I told her that EVERYTHING in my life would be better. Demonstrably better. So much better, it would be as if I had a second life; it would literally be as if I was reborn into a new person’s life with many advantages. Recognizing this was transcendent.

There is no easy way to get there. I must do the work. I figured out that if I continue at this pace, I will arrive at my goal in August of 2024.

Onwards.

The Psychology of Fat

I will start this post with a great report: I have lost all my “pandemic” weight, and the last time I weighed myself, my weight was lower than it has been in the past three years.

I have been going to the Y, and I’m continuing my simple no sugar, no carbs routine. That’s it. As far as the physical weight loss, as I’ve discussed before, it’s just a matter of discipline.

However, on the psychological front, it’s not so easy.

Unlike a lot of weight bloggers who’ve struggled with obesity from the time they were children, I was not always super heavy. In my youth, teens, and college years, I was thin. I was a cheerleader for years. Lithe, strong, and generally living in a “normal-sized” body. The massive weight gain began in the 90s for me when a pdoc put me on an Rx that gifted me 100 extra pounds. It was like a runaway train. I tried several times to bring that weight down, but eventually gave up in exasperation.

The weight morphed into something else more sinister though. The weight was what I would come to dub a “spray-on male repellent.” I was able to move about my career without the unwanted advances of creepy men; it was so freeing in that way.

It also afforded me the ability to live my life without inviting men into it with complicated relationships that always seemed to end in ruin. Even more unsettling is the deeper, more fragile realization that the abundance of fat cells wrapped around my organs and bones acted like a bubble wrap, a physical protection against being kicked, punched, and thrown down a flight of stairs. Heavy, I know (pun, intended). To understand this at a root level, there is a book: “The Body Keeps the Score” that I have not read, but I hear it referenced all the time in my women’s work.

On my last appointment with my new pdoc, I struck up a conversation with him about this. He said it’s absolutely a factor (weight gain as protection). He said it’s not uncommon for men to gain weight too to ensure they won’t be tempted to cheat on their spouses. He said he hears stories like mine all the time.

I’ve been working hard here in this phase of my life to face my demons, to heal.

Losing the weight is part of my journey. I’m hopeful I will get back to the young woman I was before trauma derailed my mind, my spirit, and my lovely body. Of course I won’t ever be young again, but I can be that strong, healthy woman again.

I’m working on it.

Blame it on the Pandemic

I was doing fine. Fine, fine, fine for a very long time. Until I wasn’t. Let’s blame it on lock-down and quarantine. I moved across the country in the spring of 2020 right as the pandemic was settling in to ground us all to a halt.

Look what happened:

To be fair, I wasn’t sitting at home eating ice cream and cake. I was eating pretty normally. But I did resume eating carbs, and there you have it. Simply adding a normal amount of carbs– I’M TALKING TO YOU, BREAD– to my regular diet, filled out all these fat cells lingering around in my body.

So frustrating.

So, here I am. Back on the Fatcinating blog. Back with my friends who will hopefully support me through another slog of getting this excess weight off. It’s not like I was down to my ideal weight anyway. But the extra weight is too much. It has to go. I’m not sure I can fit into the summer clothes I brought with me out here.

Ugh.

BeFit not BeFaT!

JustinI’m continuing on my path.  Justin, my trainer, and the co-owner of the BeFit Studio where I submit myself to his sadistic antics every week is pictured in the photo on the left. Although I tell him every time I see him I hate him, and I hate his wicked routines, I keep showing up.

We were discussing today, while I’m making progress having lost about 40 pounds, I still weigh as much as a football player.  We were trying to agree on which position now fits me best.

Where I probably started at as a burly Offensive Center, I could now possibly pass for an Offensive Lineman.  I told him my goal was to be a skinny Quarterback, but he told me some Quarterbacks can be big too.  In other words, I have some more flexibility and can start to feel some strength in my muscles, but I have a long way to go to get into fighting shape.

On that note, he convinced me to buy a bike.  I did that today.  I bought a sweet Fuji quasi-Mountain bike.  It cost more than I wanted to spend, but I decided it was an investment.  Florida has a lot of bike trails.  You can literally ride for miles on bike trails.  I have kind of hit a plateau with the personal training, and I need something more aerobic to get me moving the extra pounds around.  I think a bike can do it, so I’m going to try it.  Plus, it will get me outside in the winter sunshine.  I like that idea.

2018_FUJI_CROSSTOWN_23_LS_LAVENDER

I made a promise to myself that when I started this whole, “I don’t want to be fat anymore” thing that I wouldn’t do anything that was horrible, like exercise I hated or starving myself to the point of feeling miserable and surly all of the time.  I told myself I was going to give myself a break and take it slow and EASE into a new way of living.

I’m doing that.

So far so good.

So, still at it.

The other day, I was in a dressing room, and I was shocked that I was fitting into pants sizes 4 times smaller than I’m used to.  That was really incredible!  I texted Justin, (because I have no life and there was no one else to text, of course).  He was happy for me, and reiterated that he knew we were making progress. But, I was over the moon.  Wow!  This is really happening.  I will be on a horse… soon.

Just tired of being fat

IMG_0312People with whom I share my weight loss journey normally ask me, “Why?”  It’s meant to be a why now, or what happened to make you decide to work on this.  I always give the same answer: “I just got tired of being fat.”

As the pounds disappear (fat literally breathes out of you; look it up), I am enjoying my ability to move easier– to pick things up easier, to fit easier into chairs, to crouch down in a squat to fix a rug corner– all simple things that are suddenly available to me in a smaller size.  Nearly every day there is an affirmation if you pay attention.

That my clothes are fitting better is fabulous. I now have an entire closet that is not out of reach. Even the larger clothes are just loose and baggy, but I can still wear them if I want to.  In other words, I’ve not seriously “undergrown” anything yet. I guess I’ve dropped from a 28 in pants to a 24 maybe?  Not sure.  I’m trying not to buy more large size clothes.

According to my scale, I’ve lost 38 pounds.  That might not be the same as the trainer’s scale or the doctor’s scale, but the weight loss is noticeable now.  People still aren’t saying much, but that’s okay.  My kids can see the difference.  Another 40 pounds, and it will be unmistakeable.  My goal is to get to 240, so I can mount and ride a regular-sized horse.  I don’t know how long that will take.  Maybe 6 months.  Who knows?

Segueing into something a little more uncomfortable, I was hospitalized last week to recover from some traumatic stress related to the work I do.  I’m feeling better now.  Normally, when you’re a patient in a behavioral health facility, the food is abundant and oftentimes great.  That was the case where I was at a prestigious center in Princeton, NJ.  I’m so thankful (today is Thanksgiving) I was able to resist eating a lot of foods high in sugar and/or carbs.  I actually lost a couple pounds in the hospital, and that is nearly unheard of.  So yay, self-discipline.

Here is a milestone photo to show my dear readers (all 3 of you) my progress.  The photo on the left was taken this summer with a friend who visited with me from Montreal while he was here on business.  The one on the right is one taken a few weeks ago.  I can see the difference, can’t you?  The good news is I look happy in both of them.

 

 

I’m really looking forward to making more progress.  As I’ve written before, the fat cells serve as a functional shield, yet they imprison me in a cage I’ve created to protect myself.  So, with vulnerability and a bit of courage, I’m continuing on my path.

Happy Thanksgiving. A holiday that would be better remembered for love, hugs, and family, rather than food. 

I’m especially thankful this holiday for this blog’s readers.  I think I have at least one on this blog.  Let me know if you’re here with a like or comment?

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