As my weight crept upwards there were many times when we were going out that I would get dressed up, do my hair, fix my face, check the mirror and think ‘not bad’. Great boobs, check, of course I did I was over weight! Fabulous skin, check and gorgeous hair, check! Nothing wrong with my self esteem right? I was the life and soul of many a party, brimming with self confidence, or so it seemed. There is a reason why all of our children have chosen to pursue degrees in performing arts (English/actors/musicians) they have inherited my ‘the show must go on’ gene.
I was really good at telling myself that I looked good for a lady of a certain age. I could overlook the fact that my knees ached at the end of each day, that my back hurt and when the weather heated up my thighs would rub, I could overlook those things because I ‘scrubbed up’ well for a mature woman and, after all it could be worse couldn’t it….?
I think it’s called denial.
I would leave the house feeling fairly happy with my efforts and then, something would happen to dampen my mood. I’d catch my reflection or I’d have the misfortune to be seated next to some teeny tiny, gorgeous little thing who made me feel like a giant and to make it worse she’d be delightful to talk to. Later I’d see ‘the photos’ and I grew to dread the “you’ve been tagged on Facebook” notifications.
Eventually it was too exhausting to try and I started to avoid going out. I knew it was time to stop the excuses and time for change…. This was my light-bulb moment, which I will blog about at another time.
Equally our brain messes with us when we get slimmer….
When you get to your healthy weight range it takes a long time for your brain to think like a slim person. It’s true. Times many I would take larger sizes into the changing room to be quite flummoxed that they were too big. My daughter spent a lot of time returning to the rails to get smaller sizes with an ‘I told you so’ expression firmly on her face. It took a long time before I could stop taking three different sizes into the changing room ‘just in case’ and I was frequently surprised and pleased that I could get into the smaller one. Sometimes I lamented that I wanted one more kilo off because I wanted to look like ‘so and so’ and my sister would quite literally slap me and exclaim ‘but your butt is smaller than hers, seriously woman, get a grip’. It takes a long time for the brain to catch up with the shrinking body.
The brain is a very funny thing isn’t it, but I tell you something for nothing, having a brain that still on occasion thinks that I am fat and a body that is in fact slim is a whole lot easier than the other way around.