When I was about twelve, I remember sitting in the examination room at the doctor's office with my pediatrician and asking her why I wasn't thin like my younger sisters. She looked at me and simply said "You will never look like your sisters, you just have a different body type." Now that I'm older, I see what she meant, but it hurt terribly at the time and I have always kind of stuck with the idea that it was hopeless to try to lose weight because I just wasn't born to be thin.
My doctor was right, so far. I grew to 5'4 and my "little" sisters now tower over me. Their weight fluctuates between the 120's and low 130's, where my weight fluctuates from the 160's all the way up into the 180's. I eat roughly the same diet as them, but don't do the same physical activities they do, so I can't say definitively if this is all genetic or behavioral. Probably both. I have come to accept the fact that I will never be tall with the athletic build that they have, just like they will never have the curvy figure I have. However, I do not believe that I can't be a healthy weight. I know that I can get down to 140, maybe even less, if I really give it my all.
A couple of years ago I joined Weight Watchers and lost nearly twenty pounds from June to August. One day I went to weigh in and my weight had gone up .2 lbs and I just stopped going altogether, I was so discouraged. .2 lbs!!!! That's nothing! I don't know why I let such a small setback, maybe not even a setback, discourage me so much. Needless to say, I gained everything back and then some in the blink of an eye. I still have my card that I used to keep track of my weight and it makes me so disappointed to see how I just gave up as soon as I faced the smallest challenge.
My lowest weight ever was probably around 145 in high school, but I only weighed 145 because I was on a lot of medications, some of which had weight loss as a side effect. I was going through such a difficult time then that I didn't even realize that I had lost weight or that I was "thin" (by my standards) until I saw pictures of myself years later. I met my boyfriend around the time I was at my lowest weight and he (along with a lot of other factors) really turned my life around for the better. We are still together after five 1/2 years, only I am about 40 lbs heavier than when we began dating.
Our six year anniversary is towards the end of June and so I thought that would be a good place to set my first big goal. I'm definitely not losing the weight for him; he has never complained about or even acknowledged my weight gain, but we are both getting giddy about the prospect of finally living together and learning to cook together, etc. We both know that when we do live together, we want to have a very healthy lifestyle; buying the right foods, joining a gym together, etc. It's easy for him. He likes to work out and he'll eat anything that is put in front of him. But me? I hate, hate, HATE gyms. I am completely afraid. I get so freaked out by the unforgiving florescent lights, the totally in-shape men and women, the fast pace, everything. Just thinking about it makes my heart pound.
I am a sit-and-think kind of person, if you can't tell by the novel I am currently writing in this post. I majored in English and I am currently getting my masters in English as well. I love to read, to discuss, to connect, to contemplate.. I basically live inside my head. Sometimes I forget that I even have a body (I have gone a day an a half without sleeping or eating because I was reading such a fantastic book, for example).
But then the summer comes and I go for a walk in the woods or I take a dip in a lake and remember that sometimes it feels great to have a body that is capable of enjoying those kinds of moments in life. My sedentary lifestyle and weight gain are starting to have an impact on my ability to enjoy the outdoors. When friends want to go for a hike, I am panting and sweating way behind everyone and I can't even enjoy it because I'm so self-conscious about people noticing that I'm out of breath. I was inspired to ride my old bike around the block a couple of months ago and could barely make it home--I thought I was going to die!
I remember my mother trudging up and down the snowy hill behind our house in the winter to take me sledding, picking up pumpkin after pumpkin in at the local orchard because I couldn't decide which one I wanted for Halloween, hoisting up the Christmas tree each year and running up and down the stairs to fetch boxes of lights and ornaments. These seemed like simple things to me as a child, but now the idea of doing some of those activities with my own future children exhausts me, and I'm pretty young! I'm 23!
I will never be the person who just loves to run around a track for three hours, but I COULD be the person who loves to go on an afternoon hike, or the person who enjoys swimming laps, or the person who can beat you at a match in tennis. I want to be that person, but I can't do it in this body. My sisters express themselves through dance, basketball, field hockey, etc. I write, draw, teach myself piano/guitar, anything so long as I don't have to showcase my body. It's time that I found a physical form of expression, too. Just because I don't have exactly the same frame as the rest of the family does not mean that I can't have a body that I'm proud of.
I always thought to myself "When I get engaged, then I'll HAVE to lose the weight" or "When I'm ready to have kids, I'll definitely lose weight first because I want to be totally healthy before I get pregnant," but I realize now that even if I did lose weight before getting married or having kids, it doesn't mean that I would be healthy--at least not for long. Why at 23 am I valuing the health of my possible future children over my own health at this minute? Why do I care more about how I'll look on my wedding day than about how I'll FEEL in the years following that one day?
So, to make a long story short (oh.. I guess it's too late for that!), I am ready to begin a healthier lifestyle for ME so that I can enjoy my life as much as possible. I'm still working on loving the body I was born with (I sometimes think of myself as the rough draft of the family), but this is the only body I have and I feel like I've been abusing it.
Most of all, I'm not going to freak out anymore when the scale goes up a tad. It's not worth it to cry alone in the bathroom over what could be a completely insignificant fluctuation. Right? Right. Whew.
My doctor was right, so far. I grew to 5'4 and my "little" sisters now tower over me. Their weight fluctuates between the 120's and low 130's, where my weight fluctuates from the 160's all the way up into the 180's. I eat roughly the same diet as them, but don't do the same physical activities they do, so I can't say definitively if this is all genetic or behavioral. Probably both. I have come to accept the fact that I will never be tall with the athletic build that they have, just like they will never have the curvy figure I have. However, I do not believe that I can't be a healthy weight. I know that I can get down to 140, maybe even less, if I really give it my all.
A couple of years ago I joined Weight Watchers and lost nearly twenty pounds from June to August. One day I went to weigh in and my weight had gone up .2 lbs and I just stopped going altogether, I was so discouraged. .2 lbs!!!! That's nothing! I don't know why I let such a small setback, maybe not even a setback, discourage me so much. Needless to say, I gained everything back and then some in the blink of an eye. I still have my card that I used to keep track of my weight and it makes me so disappointed to see how I just gave up as soon as I faced the smallest challenge.
My lowest weight ever was probably around 145 in high school, but I only weighed 145 because I was on a lot of medications, some of which had weight loss as a side effect. I was going through such a difficult time then that I didn't even realize that I had lost weight or that I was "thin" (by my standards) until I saw pictures of myself years later. I met my boyfriend around the time I was at my lowest weight and he (along with a lot of other factors) really turned my life around for the better. We are still together after five 1/2 years, only I am about 40 lbs heavier than when we began dating.
Our six year anniversary is towards the end of June and so I thought that would be a good place to set my first big goal. I'm definitely not losing the weight for him; he has never complained about or even acknowledged my weight gain, but we are both getting giddy about the prospect of finally living together and learning to cook together, etc. We both know that when we do live together, we want to have a very healthy lifestyle; buying the right foods, joining a gym together, etc. It's easy for him. He likes to work out and he'll eat anything that is put in front of him. But me? I hate, hate, HATE gyms. I am completely afraid. I get so freaked out by the unforgiving florescent lights, the totally in-shape men and women, the fast pace, everything. Just thinking about it makes my heart pound.
I am a sit-and-think kind of person, if you can't tell by the novel I am currently writing in this post. I majored in English and I am currently getting my masters in English as well. I love to read, to discuss, to connect, to contemplate.. I basically live inside my head. Sometimes I forget that I even have a body (I have gone a day an a half without sleeping or eating because I was reading such a fantastic book, for example).
But then the summer comes and I go for a walk in the woods or I take a dip in a lake and remember that sometimes it feels great to have a body that is capable of enjoying those kinds of moments in life. My sedentary lifestyle and weight gain are starting to have an impact on my ability to enjoy the outdoors. When friends want to go for a hike, I am panting and sweating way behind everyone and I can't even enjoy it because I'm so self-conscious about people noticing that I'm out of breath. I was inspired to ride my old bike around the block a couple of months ago and could barely make it home--I thought I was going to die!
I remember my mother trudging up and down the snowy hill behind our house in the winter to take me sledding, picking up pumpkin after pumpkin in at the local orchard because I couldn't decide which one I wanted for Halloween, hoisting up the Christmas tree each year and running up and down the stairs to fetch boxes of lights and ornaments. These seemed like simple things to me as a child, but now the idea of doing some of those activities with my own future children exhausts me, and I'm pretty young! I'm 23!
I will never be the person who just loves to run around a track for three hours, but I COULD be the person who loves to go on an afternoon hike, or the person who enjoys swimming laps, or the person who can beat you at a match in tennis. I want to be that person, but I can't do it in this body. My sisters express themselves through dance, basketball, field hockey, etc. I write, draw, teach myself piano/guitar, anything so long as I don't have to showcase my body. It's time that I found a physical form of expression, too. Just because I don't have exactly the same frame as the rest of the family does not mean that I can't have a body that I'm proud of.
I always thought to myself "When I get engaged, then I'll HAVE to lose the weight" or "When I'm ready to have kids, I'll definitely lose weight first because I want to be totally healthy before I get pregnant," but I realize now that even if I did lose weight before getting married or having kids, it doesn't mean that I would be healthy--at least not for long. Why at 23 am I valuing the health of my possible future children over my own health at this minute? Why do I care more about how I'll look on my wedding day than about how I'll FEEL in the years following that one day?
So, to make a long story short (oh.. I guess it's too late for that!), I am ready to begin a healthier lifestyle for ME so that I can enjoy my life as much as possible. I'm still working on loving the body I was born with (I sometimes think of myself as the rough draft of the family), but this is the only body I have and I feel like I've been abusing it.
Most of all, I'm not going to freak out anymore when the scale goes up a tad. It's not worth it to cry alone in the bathroom over what could be a completely insignificant fluctuation. Right? Right. Whew.