The first time I was brought to a Weight Watchers meeting was, I think, in middle school but it may have been in 5th grade. I had so much resistance to counting points. Sure, the method was “easy.” But NONE of my friends even knew what a diet was. They were minute. All of them were short and tiny. Even the boys.
I did not want to limit myself in anyway when it came to food. I had to limit myself in every other area of my life, it seemed — because I was always too much. Food became the practiced outlet for me to stuff down all of my feelings of being left out, too loud, weird, being bullied and being the bully. All of it was a dumpster fire that I was trying to figure out on my own to no avail.
So, I failed at every diet attempt. Because I taught my brain to use food to deal with every single thing happening in my life — good or bad.
Even in high school I distinctly remember, long before Bariatric Surgery became a thought in my brain for myself, that I vowed to myself that once I figured out this weight issue that I was going to teach it to anyone who listened. (I am SO PSYCHED BEYOND ALL MEASURE to tell you that I freaking figured it out, finally. But not before another decade and a half of punishment and mis-treatment of myself by myself.)
I went to college. A private school. I studied abroad. In Australia. I made lots of friends that were both girls and guys and I had no idea how to be a girlfriend or a friend with benefits or just a friend or even, let’s just say, a girl who happened to like boys. LOL. But, seriously.
I had a few boyfriends. Nothing all that serious or life changing. And I had been dumped before. But a little while after college graduation, I was told no by someone who I was totally rearranging my life for. And instantly my thought was, “How dare you say no to me, I do not even say no to myself.”
Knowing what I know now I see how destructive this thought is. How strongly I held on to it, and for years. (I feel like I still believe it a little though, and that is what life coaching offers. Asking myself the question, do I even want that belief to be true? And providing myself tools to ‘un-believe.’)
All of that to say, when I was 23, and single, of course I thought weight loss surgery was going to be the answer. I so desperately wanted to become someone different — someone worthy. No one taught me that love is unconditional — of myself, and everyone in my life; or that we are all worthy just because we are. (It is no one’s fault, people are doing the best with what they know.)
I struggled through the rest of my 20s trying to figure out why I was regaining the weight. I was a new mom taking a long hard look at what my life was. I had a beautiful marriage but I was scared to death about what I would be teaching my son.
I realized that I spent 29 years hating myself, my body, my personality, my sense of humor, my loudness, my laugh. Hating myself repeated nearly two decades of similar thinking, similar results, similar feelings. And I decided to try something completely radical. What if I start to like myself? What would change? How would I change?
This small and extremely powerful shift is what led me to confronting my terrible quality of life with the lap band. I liked myself too much to keep it — and I had it removed, without a revision. I wanted to keep trusting myself and allowing imperfection.
Since then I had my 2nd baby and I have lost more weight without the band (75 lbs) than I had with (60 lbs). I’m a coach for my people who are suffering just like I did. It is optional. You are worthy right now because you are. Nothing about you needs to change.
Join me to find your self-love, and permanently lose your weight as a byproduct. Let’s talk about what is possible for you and your future. We can spend 1 hour together getting to know the real you and who you want to be. Send me a message to get started.
You are worth it.