We have hit another milestone….
80 pounds!!! E-I-G-H-T-Y!!!!! (Well…80.2 actually.)
80 pounds of excess…fat…sadness. Gone.
And in honor of the title of this week, here’s a little background music for the rest of this post:
I’ve had a lot of people ask me in the last few weeks what I miss about my former non-diet conscious life. My response has simply been, “Nothing.” There is no food that I miss. There is no habit I wish I could revisit again. There is no part of my prior self that I would prefer over the new and improved current version.
I don’t miss feeling out of control every time I ate. Was this snack of 18 chips going to turn into an uncontrollable binge on 2 bags of Lays, a batch of cookies and a liter of Coke?
I don’t miss the feeling of self-hatred after I had eaten far more than I should have.
I don’t miss that feeling that food was my only true friend and the kindest, most supportive part of my life.
I don’t miss the way my jeans dug into my stomach leaving an indentation that would last hours on end, because I refused to accept the fact that I might need to buy a size 22.
I don’t miss the popcorn and M&M’s that helped me to not feel so lonely. I begged and begged for them to fill the void but they never did.
I don’t miss wondering if invisibility would be more comfortable. No one could see how badly I’d let myself go if they couldn’t see me at all.
I don’t miss the way my legs chafed when I wore shorts.
I don’t miss watching other people laugh and dance and have a good time, wishing with all my might that I could be that free.
I don’t miss the staring and the ridicule.
I don’t miss the breakup of my stomach and my brain. Once they stopped speaking to each other I didn’t know when to stop eating.
I don’t miss wondering if anyone would ever really love me for the person that I am, or if all they’d ever see is my muffin top.
I don’t miss worrying whether or not I was going to fit in the booth at a restaurant if the table was one of those that was super-glued to the wall.
I don’t miss the feeling of regret when I ran into someone I knew from high school and wondering if they were saying to themselves when I walked away, “Wow, she sure let herself go.”
I don’t miss feeling like I could not succeed at anything.
I don’t miss crying in the morning when I had tried on everything in my closet and nothing fit correctly.
I don’t miss feeling like a failure to my family.
I don’t miss having a belly that stuck out further than my boobs.
I don’t miss the pain in my knees every day because of the extra ‘me’ I was carrying around.
I don’t miss the fear that a photo of me was going to be tagged on Facebook.
I don’t miss the feeling that no one would ever want you unless you were a size 2.
I don’t miss the rejection.
I don’t miss the shame.
I don’t miss hating myself.
I don’t miss waiting.
Waiting for my life to begin.
Waiting for my time to start.
Waiting for my true self.
But she had been there all along.
I found her there waiting off to the side…waiting for me to let her in.
And unlike all the other things that I don’t miss, I had truly missed her.
But she is here to stay…
“There is no right path. Only the one that lets you sleep soundly and wake up excited.”
~ Jennifer Louden