This is all embarrassing to write, (and I always mess up the spelling of embarassing – I guess there’s 2 r’s and 2 s’s).
I’ve been a member of weight watchers for around 6 or 7 years. I lost 32 pounds and have been finding myself creeping up the scale in the last 3 years.
No matter what I try, I haven’t been able to take it off.
Frustrated and disappointed is a bad combo for me. And that’s what I’ve been for a while. I turn into a 2 year old having a tantrum. It’s not fair. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do. Poor me. Wah wah wah.
Today I finally confessed that maybe, just maybe, I’m eating too much (as in volume).
“Maybe I’m rounding the almond butter. How am I supposed to measure it?” I ask my friend Robin, pretending I don’t actually know.
“You have to flatten it,” Robin and Eileen both said together.
“Really?” I asked, again pretending to not get it. The thought I having to stick my finger in the almond butter to make the teaspoon flat was not appealing. It’s hard to get the oily feeling off your finger.
“You flatten it with a knife,” Robin said as if reading my mind.
“Oh,” I said.
I left the meeting feeling strangely rebellious. I WILL NOT MEASURE MY FOOD. NO ONE CAN MAKE ME!! My brain was saying.
And I love being able to eat large quantities with an attitude of “oh, yeah, you don’t want me eating a lot? Watch me.” Why I wondered? Who am I getting back for that?
I looked, even though the answer was obvious at this point in my life.
It’s a fuck you, I thought. To my mother. For telling me, when I was about to grab a second piece of french toast when I was six, that only fat people ate two pieces. And then later that day she pointed to an obese woman and said, “see that woman, she ate a second piece of french toast this morning.”
I thought I forgave her for all this. Guess not since part of me still wants to “get her back for humiliating me.”
Ok, here’s what I learned in my last course: do I forgive her absolutely? Do I forgive her totally? Do I forgive her unconditionally?
Here’s a tip: If I don’t want to, I’m the only one that’s going to suffer. So why would I want to do that? Good question. To be right? To stay a victim?
It’s hard to let this go. But I will.
Now to forgive myself. Do I forgive that little girl for being however she was that my mother said that? Absolutely? Totally? Unconditionally?
I take a deep breath. Why would I want to hold onto my suffering? That little girl was just grabbing a second piece because it tasted so good. Why wouldn’t she?
OK. I’m letting it go.
I feel sadness. For how wrong I made myself and the resentment I’ve felt for my mom for such a long time.
But I also feel freer. And I just measured my blueberries, almond butter, raw oatmeal, sunflower seeds, and PB2. And I don’t feel overly full like I did when I had my heaping “teaspoons” that might be closer to a tablespoon. I was probably eating WAY more than I was accounting for.
So I’ll try this. Like a freedom instead of a punishment for the second piece of french toast. It’s an experiment. I’ll make it fun. I’ll make it a game.
This is new. And, not having shame is also new. That little girl has grown up. She was innocent. My mother was just doing what she did because she loves me and thought she was helping. It wasn’t malicious.
Am I really ready to let it go? I won’t tell you how many years I’ve been subconsciously holding onto it, but a lot.
Yes. I’m ready. And I may forget from time to time.
I’m giving up my resentment to my mom and my shame for myself. Goodbye resentment. Goodbye shame. (I feel like they were my old friends). Hello love and appreciation. And happiness. And fun.
I guess like the blog says, I’m creating a new life. Wish me luck.