Yep. I’m still here.
I had a colleague snap a few shots of me yesterday because, well…inquiring minds want to know.
How am I doing?
Truth be told…I’m struggling.
But not with eating right. Or moving.
This battle is with my mind. My emotions.
Living in an obese body can be like hiding from the world…in plain sight.
The world treats overweight people differently. There is an unspoken racism against fat.
Moreover, you probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.
Some people just aren’t as friendly. Some look down at the ground and refuse to make eye contact. Others tend to be condescending. Strangers aren’t as likely to say ‘good morning’ or hold open the door.
So what happens when the weight comes off and there’s no where to hide anymore?
Attention. Warmth. Openness.
And for me that is causing unexpected anxiety. And honestly…some hurt as well.
It’s a wonderful thing to make eye contact with a handsome stranger, have him say hello, hold the door, and engage in conversation.
But it’s also painful to realize that this never once happened 100 pounds ago.
It’s painful to realize that the world wasn’t engaging with me…and I was okay with that.
It’s painful to realize that the human condition is to love what is lovely. I’m guilty of it, too. We gravitate to what pleases the eye.
Now I have a choice. I can get ragey and emotional and start blame-casting, and hole up with a vat of chips and cheese again until I’m sick.
Or I can accept the flawed world for what it is. Forgive them. Forgive ME. And keep going.
I choose the latter.
You have a choice, too. You can look away, look down, or drop the door on that seemingly unlovely or portly individual.
Or you can treat that person with the same enthusiasm you would have for Channing Tatum.
With less screaming and panty throwing, of course.
Here’s to making goals and reaching them. Onward and downward. xoxo


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