Weight loss loser failure
Back from Kenya two weeks ago. I only have seven more weeks of work left til my last day! And one of those weeks I’ll be in glorious Texas with some besties soaking up some 4th of July sun on the river. heaven.
I’ve been a total weight loser failure recently as well. Gained 5.5 pounds in Kenya. Woo! And I’ve yet to drop an ounce of it. Weight watchers girl told me last night that I had in fact put on half a pound MORE! Ah. But ya know, I’ve grown weary of beating myself up. This is me right now. I’m 215pounds. I’m a 16/18. I’m definitely closer to my highest weight ever (230) than my lowest weight (170). But this is me. And I’m tired of being a self-hater. I need accountability and I need to lose weight, but I’m exhausted of beating myself up and putting myself into mental chaos, only to freak out even more when my efforts lead to a gain.
I’ve got amazing friends and an amazing husband. We’ve only got a couple more months left in Wolverhampton, the place I’ve called home for the last 7 years. The only city I’ve ever lived in while in England. And we’re trading our secure, full-time jobs, comfy two-bedroom bungalow and full-size family car to go tramping around the capital city for two years+ while Dave pursues his MA. This is equally exciting and terrifying.
There are so many questions and anxieties that our future raises for me especially. Dave is the cool one in the relationship. He goes with the flow. I’m the insane, neurotic planner who likes to how we are going to keep putting away savings while trying to put food on the table (if we even have a table) in one of the most expensive cities to live in on Earth!!
And it is this kind of thinking that leads me to eating. Probably more than I need to. More than I’m hungry for. Maybe having that chocolate after dinner that I wasn’t even craving but thought ‘why not’ and mindlessly consumed it.
And our days with our friends in Wolves are numbered. I don’t want to lock myself away right now. That’s basically how I lost the weight the first time. I want to see my friends. Do lunch, do dinner, do drinks. Enjoy life and each other’s company.
And so I’ve decided to accept myself at 215 right now. Am I happy at this weight? No. Do I think it is a healthy weight? Not at all. But right now, in this instant, it is me. And my weight doesn’t define me. At least I don’t want it to, and I’m learning to change my perspective on this.
These last few weeks I’m going have fun being me, in my life, with my friends, as I am in this moment.
