It's All about Me
At first I didn't tell anyone I was losing weight except my partner. Its totally against what you're supposed to do, and every guide EVER tells you to be open about starting dieting. But I wasn't sure it would work, period, or that even if it did that I would stick to it.
Honestly, I did NOT intend to still be doing this now. I didn't even intend to lose this much. I just wanted to look good for the damn family photos and to be a little less embarrassed by how much I'd gained since moving countries. Originally, 3 months was all I was going to do. I had just under 3 months until the wedding I was due to attend where my entire family would be able to see me and judge. No, my family WOULDN'T be judging, but I would be and its easier to point at them as the impetus. I'd always been the heaviest of the cousins already and adding my post college poundage didn't help.
And yes, there were other factors. I have wanted to look good on my partner's arm for a while now, wanted him to want me to be the one on his arm. Not that he hasn't wanted me there, but I believe he deserves someone gorgeous. I want to be that someone.
Medical concerns? Not so much. Its not that I didn't know that I might be putting myself at extra risks for various diseases and problems, but they haven't happened yet. I haven't had a need to care about it, so motivation wise it was a non starter. How do you make yourself care about something that hasn't happened yet but could? Fear, sure, but how do you do that to yourself without becoming one of those crazy people who has a whole hideaway under their house in case of total annihilation? I'm a bit of an all or nothing kinda gal.
By the time the wedding rolled around I'd lost just over 15 pounds and felt pretty good. I did not cringe and frown at the photos taken of me, although it still wasn't quite the sexy body that I've always dreamed of. Outside of week 1, which was most definitely the worst week of the entire past 11 months, it hadn't been that difficult. I hadn't been perfect, but I'd still managed my goal weight loss. WW started me with a 10% body weight loss goal, but I hadn't been paying too much attention to that. It was starting to look realistic though.
I started to think, I could just go down to the weight I was when I was graduated high school.
It was a nice goal to have in mind. I'd be back to the same weight I was when I started my adult life. And it wasn't THAT much further to go (I thought anyway).
I didn't hit that goal until January 2013, but when I did, man did it feel good. By that time, I was no longer the shape I'd been when I was 18. I had kept most of my ample bosom, and the rest of me no longer fit any of the clothes that I owned, some of which I'd actually had when I was in high school. I was thinner around the middle and the hips and thighs- places I'd NEVER thought would change.
I've always been convinced I was big boned. In fact, I was heavily muscled. I'm still no slight thing like my mother (whose wrists I outgrew by the time I was 13), but I never will be. 10 years had shifted much of the muscle to fat, so when I started my weight loss, it actually went. I was thrilled. Still am.
I'm off track, but you get the gist.
I'm glad I didn't bother telling people at the beginning. Like many big decisions in my life, I wanted to try it out before I made it public. I'm that kind of person. I knew if I started it, but didn't keep it up, that I'd feel guilty. I don't need extra reasons to feel guilty. My enormous guilt complex finds plenty of other things to nag me about. I didn't need it going into overdrive because I was having to fess up to failing when other people asked how things were going.
Baby step goals have kept me through this. But ultimately, its all been down to wanting it. For me. Because I wanted to.