I told her she was disgusting. I said she was ugly and fat and would never get it together. I told her that she wasted a good month of hard work at the gym and clean eating. I told her she was a failure and, to add insult to injury, I reminded her that the pictures I saw posted of her on Facebook this weekend made me sick.
If you know me at all you know that I am incapable of saying those things to anyone, even someone I don't like. But I sure have no problem talking to myself that way.
I hosted Book Club this past Friday and had fun doing some cooking and spending time with friends. I laughed so hard I cried and I promise I will never hear or say the word "spelunking" again without cracking a smile. On Saturday night we went to a Halloween Party and again had a great time. But I did eat too much this weekend. To be specific, I ate way too many carbs, which I've been very careful about lately. I drank more wine than I should have and had too much punch from a witch's cauldron. And, *gasp*, I had desserts for the first time in week and weeks.
If I had to pick one skill that I had, one thing I excelled at more than anyone I know, it would be bloating. I bloat like it's my job. The kind of bloat where you know you better not take your shoes off because you probably won't be able to get them back on. Don't even think about challenging me to a bloat-off. I got this.
Today is no exception. Do I know logically that it is impossible IMPOSSIBLE to gain that much in a weekend? Of course. Does it still mess with my head. You bet.
If a friend or client had come to me with the same feelings I'd have had a whole list of things to say to them. 1) Get off the God damn scale. 2) Persistence, not perfection. 3) Success is measured by how many times you get up, not how many times you fall down. 4) Even skinny people eat too much at parties.
That number I saw on the scale doesn't take away the fact that I've been eating cleaner than I have in ages. That I've been more consistent with my workouts than I have been in forever. That I've been seeing changes in my body and I've been feeling so much better than I did 6 months ago. But sometimes I let it do those things.
When did it become acceptable, even expected, to be nicer to other people than you are to yourself. Where did I learn that it was ok to speak to myself the way I do? No one has ever spoken to me that way and if the did they'd learn real quick how mean my right hook is. Yet I still do it to myself.
I first joined a gym after losing about 75 lbs. on my own. I hired a trainer on day one and he changed my life. But one of the sessions with him that I remember most vividly was the day I told him that I had hit the 100 lbs. lost mark and I wanted to thank him for his help. We talked for a bit and then he asked me, "So how does a person get to be 300 lbs anyway?" Anyone else may have been offended by this but I knew what he meant. How do you get to 200 and not notice? Or 250 and not decide to stop? Granted, he had never had a weight problem so he truly didn't understand the battle. But it freaked me out that I didn't have a good answer for this. The only thing I came up with was this, "I didn't love myself enough to stop".
I've never figured it out I guess. That's why I'm back here again. And it's why I allow myself the internal dialogue that I do. I swear if I never lost another pound but learned how to love myself the way I am, the way my friends and family love me, I would be more successful than I ever have been. I know I post a lot of obnoxious "Love your Body" and "Accept your Curves" themed pictures and articles on Facebook. I'm not being preachy here. I'm trying desperately to change my thinking. Please take the time to share any thoughts, articles or favorite books you have on the subject here in my comments because I know this problem of forgetting how to self-love is epidemic. (Not that kind of self-love. If you haven't figured that out yet, I can't help you.)
I went for a long walk with a very good friend yesterday and she said, "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes." I wish I could, too. I'm working on it. I'm never going to stop going out with my friends. They are my air. They remind me that I am worth loving just as much as I love them. And they make me laugh. I'll probably eat too much with them sometimes or drink too much. But I'm not going to stay home and hide and live inside my own brain. I've proven that's not always a loving place to be.
Besides, what's the point of being skinny if you are sitting at home by yourself.