... and unfortunately, it shows. I enjoy food. I think that part is probably already obvious. It is not a reason for living, but it is a significant contributor to living well. So it should be no surprise that my appreciation for food reflects itself in all aspects of my life, including my thighs. And my backside. And maybe a little around the middle... Sigh.
I am picky about food. Like Remy said in Ratatoille, "If you are what you eat, then I only want the good stuff." I have earned my plumpness honestly, with full-fat soft French cheeses, roast succulent duck, deep dark molten chocolate cake with whipped creme... I am not a fast food eater, and processed foods and frozen meals have never entered my kitchen or my mouth, ever. So when diets call for cutting out Doritos and McMeals and SnoBalls, and encourage dieters to shop the perimeter of the supermarket for the fresh stuff, I think I am pretty much living the righteous life already. What more could I do, give up butter? Champagne? Mais non!
As I have always been on the heavier side of the scale, I have learned to be comfortable with my weight. Since clothes are also a big pleasure for me, it's meant finding the right silhouettes and designers that make me feel great. But it can be limiting sometimes too, but don't we all have our own fashion limitations? Sure, it would be nice to fit into the sample sizes at Rodarte's sample sale (that's a size 2 in case you are wondering), but I can find plenty of nice things at the Armani outlet in size 14 too.
Up until high school my mom prayed I would just lose that "baby fat" eventually, but it hasn't since panned out (I am now in my early thirties) and the scales have gently tipped upwards over the years. I still fit into all the high end designers I love -- Armani, Valentino, Chanel -- albeit I generally take the largest size on the rack. My partner thinks I am beautiful just the way I am. My health is good, I am happy, so what more should I want?
Well, a lot, actually. I want to climb the hill that goes up to our development without getting winded. I want to feel more energetic when I get up in the mornings. I want to see people I haven't seen in 10 years, and have them exclaim, "wow! you look great!" and actually mean it. I want to stop getting carded when I try to buy alcohol (it's my darn baby face, and chubby cheeks are the main contributor). I want to go on the family cruise to Hawaii next Christmas and feel good about being in a bathing suit. I want to live a long healthy life, with as much opportunity to enjoy and savor and do as possible.
They say losing weight is one of the hardest things to do. I have never known a "thin" me I can yearn for or visualize. I have never known a different way to eat, or how to get daily activity. This is going to be really, really hard.
So today I did something I never thought I would do. I joined Weight Watchers. It felt awkward going to the meeting and sitting there with everyone. It felt like I was making a public confession that I needed help from strangers on a very private matter. But I am doing it. Because there are a lot of things I want, even more than fresh warm crepes slathered in Nutella. Shoot! Why did I just think of that? How many points is it, anyway... hmm.
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