Confession: Last year I started a secret and private blog about my struggles with weight. I kept it secret and private for several reasons. First, I wanted the opportunity to be honest with myself, to make it impossible for me to be anything but transparent. Also, I hate talking about weight. It never feels productive because nobody really cares about anyone’s story other than their own. In other words, I don’t care how many weight watchers points are in your bread, or how many calories are in that Chipotle burrito, or whether you have found joy and salvation from HCG. I don’t care about your success story because it’s not MY success story, and that’s the only one that I have control over. Finally, because trying to be funny is my primary mode of communication and I no longer think this is a joke. I have come to recognize that I sometimes use humor to soften the blow of the truth (ya THINK?!), but that approach is not always in my best interest – getting a laugh doesn’t make the numbers on the scale go down, yet I often use that laugh to give me permission not to change. If I can’t be healthy, I can at least be funny.
Which is the biggest part of my problem. That, and the aforementioned Chipotle burrito who has become a close enough friend that I almost sent it a Christmas card. But I didn’t, because come on, that would be weird. (And then the cilantro lime rice complained.)
So why am I bringing it up now? Because it’s time. To be truthful, I am not morbidly obese or anything, but I’m tired of knowing that there's a better life for me out there that is currently hiding under several extra pounds and compounding unhealthy habits. The noose around my neck is getting tighter and despite numerous attempts, I have yet to make it stop. It's making me slow, and boring, and it makes me feel old at a time when I should be vibrant and full of life. To the average onlooker, that's exactly what I am. I can still carry on a conversation at a party, or crack jokes in a group of friends. But when I get home I turn to the cupboards for friendship, for consolation, for the comfort that I need after I've successfully duped everyone around me. Most of them would be shocked to learn that I feel this way about myself. I feel guilty that my husband has to deal with so many ups and downs with me. He deserves so much better.
And then it hits me.
So do I.