Sometimes you have to remember the bad stuff
Mental Health August 4th, 2008I had some random thoughts today as I pondered this whole weight loss thing. I wanted to write them down so I could come back and revisit them later if needed. Not that I am going to rehash every single thing that happened during my childhood, but I think it’s good to remember where we came from so we can see the postive changes we have made.
I remember my grandparents calling me “chubby”
I remember in about 4th grade not wanting to wear a certain shirt b/c it made me look fat and my mom forcing me to wear it. I can still see the shirt. It was purplish and I can see the way it fit across my stomach (which in 4th grade couldn’t have been that bad) and I still hate it. I think I see it everytime I put on a shirt that fits a little too tight.
I remember when I started losing my weight (at 26 years old) being excited that I was able to buy a pair of pants from Old Navy (a normal store!) and my mom saying… well, they are cut larger sometimes. Thanks for the support, mom.
I remember shopping with friends and basically standing around looking at clothes I would never be able to fit into while they shopped. Never once going where I could fit into something. I felt a little left out. I didn’t know then about stores such as Lane Bryant (didn’t discover that until later) In fact I don’t even remember where I shopped for clothes in high school.
****
In an unrelated note, I did go to the gym today. I didn’t want to go, but I went. It’s hard to get back into routine.
August 4th, 2008 at 10:10 pm
The old navy experience…ouch. my mom although supportive usually was never very aware of self esteem issues. She had no idea how much I struggled. I am constantly trying to build my kids up and help them find those things that make them feel good about themselves. I am still not sure how my mom didn’t realize that I desperately needed her to help me find my way and give me opportunities to believe in myself. Way to go with the gym. The good thing is that our bodies don’t care whether we wanted to go or not. They still reward us with the calories burnt
August 5th, 2008 at 7:31 pm
I often go back to things that hurt when I was a kid. To those little things that piled up on me like straws on the back of the proverbial camel. To my family saying that I had “hollow legs” as I came back for a second and sometimes third helping. To my mother who is about as supportive as yours (yeah, nice call that Old Navy comment. I think our mothers might have some psychic connection). To all the times I looked at clothes and imagined myself wearing them and then got in front of the changing room mirror and couldn’t get out of the place quickly enough.
Glad you made it back to the gym.