“Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.”
At least that’s what I told my Weight Watchers group twenty years ago. I had lost 40 lbs and achieved life time membership status. They asked me to make a speech, and as I stood there in my size 8 pants, I totally believed what I was saying.
I was young. I was naïve. I was motivated.
I was wrong.
I’ve been perpetually on a diet for most (if not all) of my life. If my actions are any indication, there are lots of things that taste better than fitting into my skinny jeans. And the whole food vs. size conundrum pretty much drives me nuts.
There used to be certain things that would motivate me to lose weight. A trip to see somebody I haven’t seen in a long time has worked in the past. So has money; if I’m spending money on a diet program I will be more likely to stick with it. But neither reason works 100% of the time. I’m honestly not sure what causes me to make up my mind to lose weight. I wish I knew; I would put it in a bottle and drink it every time I was tempted by something chocolate and gooey.
And then I would sell it and be disgustingly rich.
As important as my weight is to me, and as much as it dictates how I feel about myself, it doesn’t seem to matter at all to other people. When I visited my son in college awhile back, I asked him if he could tell I’d lost 20 lbs. He said, “I don’t know. You just look like Mom to me."
A girlfriend at church told me she has a hard time keeping track of when I’m skinny and when I’m fat. Can’t she tell when half of my wardrobe disappears? When I start wearing the same thing to church every Sunday, it’s very likely I am fat.
She really needs to pay closer attention.
I'm feeling motivated today, so maybe my mind is made-up to eat right and drop some of my winter hibernation fat. Maybe I'll stick with it tomorrow, and the next day and the next. Maybe I'll be wearing my skinny jeans before...before....before....
Before I eat one of the chocolate cupcakes sitting in the break room at work.