A slightly less embarrassing scale-selfie

The Unbearable Heaviness of Being…

It’s not very PC to call myself heavy, and exactly two weeks after I began this (my 90th) diet I have already lost 6.2 pounds. I should I say I’ve hidden 6.2 pounds, and am hoping that I never find them again. I do have in mind a frenemy or two who I would like to find the hidden weight, but I’ll leave that work up to Karma.

Posting actual scale-selfies is mortifying, but I do find the fear of not being successful in my weight loss quest even more ulcer-inducing – hence I’m ok with it. I’ve been dieting off and on for decades, and have actually learned a lot of things along the way even though I always remained 20+ pounds above my goal. I’m a good rule-follower. I know what healthy, low-calorie fare is and how to prepare it. I know how to exercise (you lose calories even if you look like a moose doing many of them). What is it that has kept me from becoming that healthy, fit and more attractive version of myself for all these years? I suspect it has a lot to do with my fear of success rather than failure.

What if I lose all the weight, and nothing else changes? What if it turns out that not being thinner is not remotely what has kept me from having a successful romantic relationship? What if employers wouldn’t find me any more desirable – er – hireable as an average-sized woman? What if I don’t feel better inside or out? Where do I go from there?

It’s silly. I already know I’m not happy where I currently stand health-wise and weight-wise. I’ve already spent most of my adult life working on my job skills, my character, addressing my flaws, and trying to – as corny as it sounds – become the best person I can be. I’ve invested so much in me, I need to show more confidence in myself. I don’t judge others by their weight or physical attractiveness, but I can still appreciate it, and respect the work that goes into a healthy lifestyle. Now I just need to appreciate and respect that in me.

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