Insert GRRRR face here.

Yes, that's right.

I am making a squishy, probably highly unflattering BLERGGGHHH, grrrrrr, blehhhhh face right now.

Why, you ask?

I'm fluffy.  That's why.

Sarah who used to be 320+something pounds would be quite infuriated with 200lb, size-14 Sarah for complaining about her current state of being.  But, while I once was a tight, fit, size-12ish, 200lb lean, mean, dense, muscle, awesome-machine...

Now?  I am 200lbs of less muscle and a lot more wiggle.

Here's the thing.  Life happens.  It is pretty easy to commit to getting super buff and being in full-on-workout-super-mega-beast-mode when you have a part time job, a lot of time on your hands, and a large part of your very humble income is committed to the gym.

"What shall I do on my day(s) off?  Hmm.  Work out for 2 hours.  Oh - friend wants to go for a walk and then work out later, also?  Cool!"  And then I just worked out for almost 4 hours.

This would happen a couple of times a week, along with the more "normal" workouts that were only 1-2 hours.  But let's get real, yo.

Who has 2-4 hours a day to work out when you also work at least 45 hours a week, have a home, have a life, have people you love and want to see, and you need to...oh, you know - SLEEP.  Or eat.  Or, like, actually engage in life.

I don't know how to do it all.  I don't.  I have tried to figure it out, but I really don't know.  And this, my friends, has been the single biggest struggle over the last 2 years.  I should be grateful that I am 200lbs and not 330.  I should enjoy that, while I'm not small, I'm at least still in Curvy Girl Land instead of You're Slowly Killing Yourself Land.

This brings up two huge things that are plaguing my brain of late:

1.  How do you accept where you are?  Others have lovely things to say, especially those who haven't seen you since you lost the initial weight and are so excited for you.  It's strange how, even though they're right, even the loveliest things fall on deaf ears when you aren't succeeding how you feel you should.  It's almost angering.  And, why do I still see myself as a big person?  I don't think other people who've only met me since I've been this physical version of me see me that way.  When is everything good enough?

AAAAAAND two.

I want to be really physically fit again.  How do I do that while committing more realistic amounts of time per day to fitness?  I want to commit 30-75 minutes a day to physical activity.  My knees are in a bit of a state of disarray due to my weight history, so there are a few limitations.  But I want to be STRONG again.  I want to firm up again.  How do I do that knowing full well that I can't be the person who lackadaisically spends her multiple days off per week doing whatever she fancies, part of which happens to be working out for hours on end.

Readers who are fitness types or who have already or are struggling with this - throw a girl some pointers (but please avoid squats and lunges - my knees can't take it).  I really, really need it.  I want it.  Need it, dare I say.  No, no dares.  Definitely need it.

And those of you who are or have struggled with self-perception and trying to find a way to be content with where you're at:  lend me your thoughts.

I know it may seem as though I kid when I seem as though I'm talking with you all, but I really am.  I picture you all chatting right back to me.  I've got quite a soft spot for you, I do.  There are some things that I've experience and am going through that I really hope can help others know what they're getting themselves into when they lose weight.  But also?  I'm a girl who wants to hear from others who've already gone beyond where I am.  This is a conversation - not a lecture.  So let's chat.

Breaking fat.

I’ve never thought of myself as “fat.”  I’ve always quite liked quite a few things about me.  But, how would I describe me if asked?  Do I see the same person in the mirror that others do?  How do I perceive myself? 

I’ve been struggling intensely over the last 6 months with a battle of projecting my leftover “fat girl mentality” onto others, by assuming their perception and potential reactions towards me are ones that only I have toward myself.  I’m consistently a bit baffled by all of the ways my weight affected me, and I really had no idea just how much it had influenced my mind.

That's me there, on the far right... Cowardly Lion at your service.

For years, I was literally an obstruction.  I was well over 320lbs at some point, and there’s just no getting around it – I was an obstacle at times, both physically and mentally.  I’ve had people in my life who’ve rolled with it the best they could and never made me feel as though I was a burden.  But some part in the back of my mind was and still is perpetually in this mode of constant apology, always feeling and assuming that I am an imposition. 

Something as simple as wanting to text a friend to hang out with her: 
Well, I don’t want to bother them…

I see people I know and I want to walk up to them: 
Should I? Shouldn’t I?  I don’t want to bother them…  Will they think it’s weird I’m just out and about by myself?  Will they mind if I join them?  I dunno…

“Sorry to bother you guys… Do you mind if…”

If I want to talk about anything personal with a friend, or, God-forbid, maybe show that I’m not 120% happy and ruling the world all the time, I’m petrified and just know it’s a bother, so I don’t.  I keep it in, or as you've heard me mention before, I "pull an ostrich."

Why would they be bothered? They are my friends.  If they were to walk up to me, I would most likely be overly giddy and delighted that they were there and wanted to join me.  Why do I assume people have such negative reactions to me? 

It is because it is not nearly as much about perception for me as it is projection: a projection of this bizarre, intense fear of vulnerability, rejection and failure.  At some point along the line, I allowed myself to be a defeatist.  I’ve come leaps and bounds since beginning this process, and sharing with all of you, in realizing that I have such a propensity to sell myself grossly short and prematurely fail.

Premature failure: the tendency to over-analyze things to an excruciating extent before actually taking action because, despite all potentially good outcomes, the result is nothing short of impending doom, hurt, and/or humiliation.

Problem sorted. Crisis averted.  Humiliation avoided.  Progress: none.

When it boils down to it, the problem is fear. 

Fear can be a crippling, stifling, cruel beast if you give it too much power.  I have no idea why my tendency is to submit to it, but I’ve reached my limit. 

It has been really, really tough. 

Here is what I am going to do about it.

I’m going to talk about it. Both to you all, because you deserve to know about all the mind-bending wonder you might encounter through the weight-loss process, and to someone who’s a pro.  I think it would be good for me, especially if I can find someone who's talked to people going through the weight loss process.  I’m going to make a conscious decision to do the opposite of what my fear is saying in hopes that, eventually, I’ll have ignored it enough to have overcome it.  I’m going to create a structure for better managing my time, my budget, and my work. I’m going to track my food more meticulously for the time being.  I’m going to create a new list of goals and desires to strive towards.

As someone said to me recently before I set off on a cold walk alone in the rain, “Everybody’s gotta be a big girl sometime…”  And it’s about that time.

Little Victory

Sometimes, I see an article of clothing that belongs to me and just can't believe that it's mine. How is it possible that I fit in that? I don't see myself as I was, but I still can't quite fathom what I am, either. Perception is a funny thing.

I remember when the drying rack wasn't wide enough for my shirts. My clothes stay on hangers now... Oh, the little things.

The "D" Word.

Yeah.  The “D” word.  Go ahead – guess which one it is.

Dresses?  Dorky?  Does she mean a swear word?  No, dumby…  Oh -that’s a D-word, too…

Dating.  I hate that word.  When I think of dating, I think of some awkward, lame thing you do for an evening with some person you’ve barely just met, and a bunch of annoying, stupid things and whatnot.  Do I sound like a bratty little teenager?  WELL – you don’t  date anyone properly for, like, 7 years and we’ll see how far you regress.  I haven’t been interested in anyone in a very, very, very long time.  It’s partly because I just haven’t, but I’m also pretty sure it’s because I’ve been pulling an ostrich, too. 

The idea of "dating" makes me about as comfortable as this video's business-man-by-day-wild-man-by-night, Maurice, and scrawny-wouldn't-have-made-it-as-a-viking Fred.  For lots of reasons.

Before you lose weight, it’s very easy to think, “Gee, golly – when I lose weight, I’ll be one pretty desirable hepcat!  It’ll be so much easier then!  Everything will just magically work out because I’m thinner – HOORAY!”

Well, I very well may be one desirable hepcat.  But this is another side of me I've kept safely hidden behind my steadily deteriorating wall of flubber.  Like many other things I've talked with you guys about, getting back in touch with it causes more of that annoying but liberating self-realization/growth nonsense.  I really am a pro at keeping things away that might hurt my heart.

I’ve never been one of those girls who embraced their size.  There are plenty of beautiful, strong, fantastic women who have.  I have never been comfortable with my physical body.  I’ve always known how to dress well – hide the funny bits and flatter the good ones…  I’ve never been shy, and I’ve always liked the things that are intrinsically me.  At times, I've thought that my personality and "coolness" were great enough to help people overlook my physical shortcomings, but I don't think I've ever really felt that it's possible for me to find love without fixing my exterior. 

Actually, what I really thought was that there was no way I would be able to meet someone great. I would either have to be single, or put up with someone gross enough to settle for me.  So, I’d rather be alone. 

Do I feel this way about people other people?  No.  Do we all say horrible, awful things to ourselves that we would never say to another person?  Abso-freaking-lutely.  The thought of someone saying things like that to a person I care about gives me the instant urge to cause them physical pain.  A couple of times.  But, somehow, it is always perfectly acceptable when trying to fairly, realistically analyze myself. 

So, I suppose I was right.  My exterior did have to change, but not for the destructive reasons I'd convinced myself of, and not to make me worthy of love.  Things at my core had to be shaken, rearranged, and sorted out so that I could be capable of accepting love should it happen to come my way.

So, when will it happen for me?  When will I finally meet someone again?

Who knows?  I look forward to it, but I don't care when.  For now, I am happy learning to love myself little by little.

Perception.

Lil' Moment Observed

Inception can eat its heart out.  Perception is way trippier.

Looking in the mirror is a bit less of an egregious experience than it used to be, these days.  Just ask my roommate; she is a huge fan of mocking my mirror faces.  A while back, I’d been busy all day grocery shopping, cleaning house, and so on.  I was "sweatygross," as I call it, but happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the hall when I passed by, and thought to myself, “Hey…  Not bad, kid.”  It felt really, really good and I wished someone was right there to grab a photo of me.  I’ve often wondered if I see the same thing that others see.  So, due to the lack of photographer, I grabbed my camera to get a picture as I saw myself, or how I perceived myself, rather.  I managed to capture it.

This little moment totally messed with my mind, man.  And this little moment happened again tonight.  It’s so strange how I can look in the mirror, and even though I can see the difference, I don’t see myself differently.  I look in the mirror and I still see the 300+ pound girl.   So it kind of makes me wonder when, if ever, my perception of myself and the girl I see in the mirror will decide to merge. 

I am slightly biased when I look in the mirror seeing as I’m looking at myself.  Yeah…  Fairly biased.  So, how do you know if what you see in the mirror is good, or bad, or real, or what others see, or what?!

Does Heidi Klum look in the mirror and see a supermodel? 

Does Jason Schwartzman look in the mirror and see a stud?  Oh, hush up.  The fact I’m smitten with him is neither here nor there.  You get the analogy.  Humor me. 

The point is, I’ve got a ways to go in this department, and maybe one day my perception and my reality will decide to hang out.  In the meantime, I’ll be happy with my little moments.