Be The Change

So this post will be along the same lines as the last one. But I want to give the so-called "normal" world a little perspective on not fitting.

That's not a typo. Not fitting.

When you are more than fifty or a hundred pounds overweight, you don't fit.

You don't fit into booths at a pub. You don't fit into certain chairs in restaurants. You don't fit into stadium, movie theatre, or airplane seats. Or (how could I forget?) stylyng chairs and pedi-spas at the salon.

You don't fit into regular clothes. Your options for clothing are actually quite limited and quite expensive. You can get cheap stuff but it is usually very ugly and unflattering.

Now, I am not talking about "plus sizes" like they sell in most stores. I am not talking a 1X or a 2X. I am talking bigger than they sell in most specialty stores.

There are very few choices for the very large. And the nicer, more fashionable, better quality clothing costs way more than what fluffy gals can find in a basic plus-plus size catalog. My fluffy brothers don't fare much better.

You can't fit through certain stores because they make the spaces between what they are selling more narrow to fit in more products. Walking into a crowded restaurant is a nightmare. Or, when you are in a crowded place, an elevator, a night club, you find yourself trying not to take up so much space, to make room for the normal people. I have seen people not get onto elevators because they think "I don't want to get too close the chubby gal" or they just don't want to take the chance.

Fitting into cars can be an issue too. I remember the last time I gained back weight after keeping off 50 or 60 out of 100 pounds lost, the steering wheel of my car was eroding at the bottom because it hit my stomach when I drove.

And perception and perspective of the thin world is skewed too. I could lose forty or fifty pounds and a thin person might never notice because to certain types of people, fat is fat. 50 pounds or 150 pounds...to them, you are just fat.

A few years ago, a former co-worker of mine came into my new place of employment and I made comment to her about how I used to be skinny (because you always, when you are fluffy, have to clear the air and make it known that you know you've gotten fat!) and she said I looked exactly the same. I had gained 80 pounds since I had last seen her.

Then there is the other end of that spectrum. I have plenty of thin friends who don't "see" my fat because they love me.

They think I am wonderful and beautiful because they see past the weight and see me.

If that is true, then why are they so happy for me when they see me looking more like them? It is for the very same reason, they know me and they love me and they know that this other person was in here all along.

A friend of mine commented to me the other day on my previous post and she said that she takes people noticing when she loses weight in negative way. I've done that. Because you second guess and you say to yourself "Well, jeez, I must have looked really terrible to look so 'great' now. Why did I let myself go like that?"

I am here as a person who only kept getting bigger and bigger and I am here to tell you that I find joy in the fact that I am not getting bigger anymore.

Sometimes I wonder how people who barely know me can notice it and are looking at me in a whole new way. But then there are, what I like to call, the skinny-minded people who don't notice because I am still fat. I hope that's the case, anyway, and that they are not just thinking something completely different. (Like "Is she ever gonna lose all that weight?")

I used to hear skinny people, and when I say skinny people, I mean the really, naturally skinny ones who never had to worry about gaining weight and do anyway, or the ones who are fine they way they are-fit and healthy, but won't wear a bathing suit without shorts and a t-shirt over it; and I wonder what they see when they look in the mirror. I would  kill to be that small; to take up that little space. I don't like to be envious but I am a little  bit. I can admit it.

Last night, I did a client's hair and I have to say, she is hands down, one of the most beautiful women (including models and celebs) that I have ever seen. She is tall and naturally thin. She barely wears a stitch of make-up and she is flawless.

I often wonder, on the rare occasions I meet someone like that, if it feels different to look so pretty.

I know that thin feels much different than fluff. But does pretty feel different than plain? I wonder. I wonder, when you're thin, if you will ever be thin enough.

When I was a size ten, I felt "thin enough". I felt it because that was the size that people treated me like everybody else. That was the size that no one gave me a second glance at the beach. That was the size and weight that fit. That I fit.

I watched a movie (a guilty pleasure and I can't believe I am admitting it to all five you!) called Pitch Perfect in which there is a fluffy girl and she calls  herself Fat Amy "...so twig bitches like you don't do it behind my back." I totally do that. I try to beat people to the punch. To let them know that I know that they know I'm fat!

All you "twig bitches" out there who think you are fat or have a crazy, unrealistic image of yourself, don't teach that to your children. Teach them, instead, to make the right choices when it comes to food. Lead by example. Don't count calories in front of your daughters. Calories are not nearly as important as nutrition.

I think, when I was a child, I received so many mixed messages from my mother and my aunt and my grandmother. "Finish everything on your plate or you don't get dessert!" It didn't matter that I was full, I wasn't allowed to go out and play until I cleared my plate. Then, I was told, as I got older, that I was eating too much.

Teach your girls and boys about healthy foods and lead by example. Eat your fruits and veggies. Drink water instead of soda. Don't force feed them if they are not hungry. But if they are holding out for ice cream and they didn't finish their dinner, tell them that's OK but just one scoop and then have a piece of fruit. When I was a kid, if I choked down all my dinner, I didn't want to miss dessert so I ate it anyway. I'm not saying it's my mother's fault. But, I can't help wondering if, had I learned moderation at a young age, things might be easier for me now.

Don't bribe your children with snacks and treats like my mother did. I'm not saying ever, but don't make it their habit.  Sometimes, you just have to give in and give them that lollipop. But not every time. Sometimes, it's better to just leave the cart in the middle of Target and cut your losses.

Change the cycle. Teach them to get off the couch and away from the computer. Teach them that balance is more important than counting calories. But when they want chocolate cake, let them eat it! Just not on a daily basis.

I'm no shining example of how to be thin. But I sure know how to get fat. Trust me, thin is better. But more important than that is good health. Natural, whole foods most of the time, can make up for the chicken nuggets they're having in the school cafeteria. Teach them. If you are a junk food junkie, teach yourself first.

I come from a long line of the "feed a cold, gorge a crisis" mentality. At some point, we have to break the vicious circle.

Gandhi said that we should "be the change" we want to see in the world. Be the change. Skinny, fat, or somewhere in between, we all need to stop beating ourselves up and start taking care of ourselves.

Fit, Fit, Fit.

So, I am on the fence as to whether or not this would be a blog about weight loss or a blog about being overweight. Both, perhaps.

Don't know if there are many of you out there reading this, but let me start by speaking to all the skinny folks or physically fit or anorexic or bulimic or those of you who just can't understand how or why someone chooses to be fat.

I should start by saying that it is not really a choice. Well, not a conscious choice anyway.

I have had this struggle for all of my adult life. As I've mentioned before, I have been thin and fat and somewhere in between. I have lost more than 50 pounds on four separate occasions in various times of my life.

My best and biggest success was in the late eighties and early nineties. I began a weight loss program that I sort of made up in my head after reading about several different methods in different magazines and books and using what I knew from being on Weight Watchers, Think Thin, one OA meeting (at which all the women were thin!) and Atkins.

I lost a total of 98 pounds in one year and went on to lose 10 more after that for a total of 108! What an accomplishment, right? My closest friends were encouraging me. My family was even on board. One day, when I was going out, my father (who was forever calling me Chubby and saying I should do push-aways instead of push-ups {push away from the table}) said to me, "Don't get too  skinny!"

That, and the fact that I was able to go into any store for clothes, told me that I was finally getting control of my weight loss destiny!

My motivation for that particular weight loss was, if I'm being honest with myself, weddings. Many of my friends were engaged or getting married and I was asked to be in two weddings which were very close together. I walked into the bridal salon needing a size 20 dress and I had already lost about 30 pounds. I said give me size 16 and had to sign my life away. There was a difference in price if you were over a size 18 so I wanted to be smaller than the "plus" size.

Now, any of you who have ever been in a wedding know that bridesmaid's gowns are not very "true" to size.

When I went for my first fitting (several months after we ordered the gown) I was pleased to find that it was too big. (Except for the boobs!)

So they nipped and tucked and hemmed and $75 later I had a gown that fit like a glove! (Silly expression, isn't it?) When I brought it home to show my mother and did a little fashion show, we realized that they never altered the little jacket that came with it. It was the night before the wedding. I went to my friend who sews and she put shoulder pads in and moved some snaps and it was passable. Who would've thought that I'd buy something that was too small and would end up needing it taken in? Not me! At one point during the reception, I even took the jacket off (unheard of for me to show my arms like that!).

The next few weddings, one more of which I was in and ordered size 12, were a whirlwind of shopping at "normal" stores and buying fancy pantyhose because my legs didn't chafe anymore.

I was exercising on a rowing machine and walking 3-5 miles just about every day! I was doing sit-ups and stretching and I can truly say that I had never felt so great in all my life. My self-esteem was even up. I felt like a normal person for the first time in my adult life! I could fit anywhere!

That's the word. Fit! You can be fit. I was. You can fit into tight spaces. I did. You can fit in. Period. For the first time in my life, I fit into the normal weight category.

I kept that weight off for almost five years before I got complacent. But I would not let myself go all the way back. When I started finding things were tight on me, I started over. I moved out of my childhood home and into an apartment with my BFF. She could eat anything and never gain an ounce!

I crept back up to size 14 and got scared so I started the walking thing again. Five miles six days a week. And rowing to nowhere. Down to a 12. Stepped it up and started walking and running. Down to size 10!! I stayed there for a year or so. But it was a struggle.

We lived right across the street from a health food store and I started cooking more whole grains and less fat. Lots of pasta with grilled chicken. No cold cuts. No alcohol. No sugar. I joined a gym That didn't last too long. Back up to a 12.

I kept the bulk of the weight off for the entire time we lived in that apartment. For almost three years I struggled to maintain and stay between a size 12 and a size 14.

Then we moved. I didn't want to move. But my BFF did. I trusted her judgement and we moved into a great old house with three other friends. I loved the house but not as much as our first place. It was hard living with that many different personalities. And we didn't live close to the lake for my walks.

The weight crept on. Size 16. My mother started declining in health and my father had a prostate cancer scare. Size 18. Feed a cold. Gorge a crisis. Size 20.

I got a handle on it and started over (several times). I did aerobics and took walks. Size 18s were loose. Then I needed surgery on my hands. Size 18s were tight.

Had surgery on my hands, within three weeks I made a huge Thanksgiving dinner with the help of my friends and my sister. A few days later, my mother had a heart attack. Good thing we had all those leftovers.

I was still out of work due to my surgery when we found out they were transferring my mother to the city because she needed open heart surgery. Triple bypass. By the second week in December, she had a massive stroke. Paralyzed on the left side. She lost the use of her hand on that side and she had previously had and amputation so she could no longer transfer herself from the bed to the wheelchair. Size 22. Size 24.

We moved again to a house not far from where we were living and it was just the two of us again. My BFF was planning her wedding, as was another of my closest friends. Maid of honor in both of them=motivation!

I lost almost 60 pounds for my friend's wedding in March of '96. Size 18. Took a trip to England by myself in May and lost another 15.

My mother's health started failing again. Gained back 20. Stayed there for another 8 or 9 months. In between that time, my mother got sicker, I moved out on my own since BFF was getting married in January, met the man I would end up marrying, threw a bridal shower (along with BFF's sisters and her bridesmaids), lost my mother and got engaged. Size 22.

So I just went back and re-read. From approximately 1988-1997, I lost 108 pounds, gained back 70 pounds, lost 30, gained back 50 pounds and lost 60 again. By the time I got back from my honeymoon I was a holding at size 22.

Two years and 25 pounds later I moved into a basement apartment in my childhood home (yes, back to the land of the crickets) and started and stopped Weight Watchers several times, gaining and losing the same 20 pounds over and over. Stayed at a size 24 until about 2001 when BFF had her first and only child.

I began babysitting BFF's child on Mondays shortly after he was born. We had, by then, moved into a great new place which had nice grounds and we went for walks around the lagoon located in our complex. This time, the motivation seemed to come out of nowhere. I lost 84 pounds in a little over a year. I was fitting in again because I fit and was fit. I had joined a gym and was feeling so great. Got down to a size 14. It feels like I kept it off for about fifteen minutes!

The whole thing began unraveling when I got a bad case of Sciatica (even took myself to the hospital) and I couldn't walk with out dragging my foot. It lasted about three months. Pile marital issues on top of that and the weight piles on too. Maybe I was "normal" for a couple of years fluctuating between size 16 and size 20. The motivational spark was extinguished and I was hard pressed to find it's source again.

In '05 I began infertility treatment and very quickly gained 30 pounds. Two years of that and another 15 pounds came out of nowhere. My last procedure was shortly after my father suffered a heart attack and stroke. He died 8 months later.

One year after that my beautiful BFF began exhibiting some strange behavior. A few months later, we heartbreakingly discovered it was caused by a brain disease which causes a rare form of dementia. I have been gorging that crisis ever since.

And we are all caught up with the roller coaster of weight loss!

It's been two years now and I still cannot get a handle on my weight. My schedule of work and helping with her care has made it impossible for me to grasp onto my former motivation. Even now, I sit in her kitchen on a lovely autumn day longing for a glimmer of the BFF I knew so well and even a glimpse of my former, motivated self!

OK. So that was cathartic! I have discovered two things upon writing this post. One is that I love to find excuses for my over-eating. And the second thing is that...the word fit is at the center of my whole existence.

As a child, I had a hard time fitting in due to a lot of emotional problems and a less than perfect family dynamic. As a teenager, I had a hard time fitting in, period. As an adult, I gained so much weight I didn't fit into the spaces that "normal" people occupy. The short periods when I did fit were because I was fit. And, finally, I find that thinking about it all makes me want to have a fit!