Friday, July 28, 2006

On the Weigh Down

Ok, here it goes. This is a deep breath issue for me.

I am indeed overweight.

Now this is news to no one. Those closest to me kinda get it. They have watched me battle it at different times, or just not be in control of it at all and suddenly gain or lose entirely too rapidly when I go through emotional crap or just get to busy to focus on when I’m putting (or not putting) in my mouth. The problem is that when I drop weight (even, and often especially, unhealthily) I get compliments.

In high school and college it was a “I shouldn’t have to do this” thing. Shouldn’t those who love me love me as I am? I am wary of those who are too focused on the outward appearance. Doesn’t God say He focuses on the heart? Doesn’t our culture send the mixed message that beauties come in every size, don’t change for anyone, and then turn around and back-bite by showing slim-beyond-slim women in every visual form and present them as fabulous?

Then I was on the “ For Me” kick. What did I want to look like and feel like? Somehow in there (an entire blog post by itself), I figured out I think I look pretty good. I rejected and reject the equation that thin= attractive. And that’s not a flippant comment. I’ve got a pretty ok sense of style, great hair, good skin, pretty well distributed weight, confidence and a ready laugh. I average four miles of walking per day in school (including stairs) and can hike a good long while before resting. Sure, I could be more fit, but I think I’m pretty enough and healthy enough for practical purposes.

There was a time when I just resisted to be ornery. But my mom has stopped harping on it, I was never anything but perfect to my father. My close friends have been nothing but supportive whether I was trying to lose or comfortable as I was and the not-close friends have too much sense to bring it up.

This isn’t a David thing. He’s never commented once on my size (except to say he appreciates my softness and that I’m not all angle-y), though he kinda wishes I was a espresso-eyed brunette;). So this isn’t about him, though I think I’ve always felt that what attractiveness I have is fleeting and it’s pretty much inevitable that my young self will age into cushionyness and love will be sorely disappointed if it expects the body not to age. I’m a bit prejudiced and distrustful of men (and women) who look before liking and must continue to be pleased with the looking to then consider love. So perhaps he is part of the security that allows me to do this—he loves me as I am and will be. This is good.

So why now? I’d like to think it’s a Gwen-Weigh Down-Honor-God-With-My-Body thing. But you’ve read the above. If I believed I was putting the visceral enjoyment of food on a pedestal above God I would be concerned. If it were simple vanity I’d be concerned (though I suppose my Aunts’ doing it and not wanting to be the last plump one does figure in). If it were to please man or mother, I’d be concerned. But really, at the end of it, it just seems to be the right time.

One of my high school teachers did this just before I had her; she announced she was going to lose weight in front of the church. And then decided she better do it. Me too.

I’ve rejoined Weight Watchers and lost three pounds this week. That’s unusually high, but it was the first week. I’m too chicken to share my starting weight and haven’t decided on my goal weight yet, but look here on Thursday nights to keep me accountable. Perhaps at the end I’ll total it for you. How can you be supportive? Stay the same. Offer me a second helping, and allow me to take it or refuse as needed, please don’t make me feel guilty if I just don’t take a large portion or skip an item or refuse more of something you’ve worked hard on. Please don’t tell me I look great. This is only kinda about looks and I’ll question if you thought I looked awful before (culture does tie acceptance to beauty and weight is a HUGE part of that these days). Some comment about working at it is fine if you feel the need to compliment progress. Feel free to email great recipes. I’ll definitely post great recipes as I find them.

So that’s said. I think I’ll go make nachos.

Meg’s Weight Watchers Watch (MWWW): -3

2 Comments:

At 4:55 PM, Anonymous Peter said...

For some reason it strikes me as odd that David likes brown eyes, I'm not sure why. I like blue eyes. For a long time I lived in fear that I would fall in love and marry a girl without blue eyes, and my kids wouldn't have blue eyes. Fortunatly for me, Jenny has a pair of blues!

 
At 4:59 PM, Blogger Al said...

Some comment about working at it is fine if you feel the need to compliment progress.Nah. As far as I can tell, you give me weird looks for all my other comments. I figure I'll stick to safe(r) topics until you quit giving me weird looks.

Cool past and good luck, though.

 

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