Help is on the way...

Sometimes I really resent those who try to help me in my weight loss -- primarily my mother.  My first weight related memory is my mother dragging me into a Weight Watcher's meeting when I was 12 years old.  There I sat, a twelve year old among a large group of middle-aged woman.  I was insecure.  I was frightened.  I was humiliated.  I can still visualize the building the meeting was in - it left that much of a mark on me.  Similar feelings surfaced when she took me to a Jazzercise class at thirteen.  Then there was Jenny Craig and Nutra Systems and Atkins diet plans.  Now that I think back on those days, I wasn't really even fat.  Maybe a little heavier than my peers but not obese.  What I wouldn't do to be that weight again.   My mother's help didn't stop after high school or college.  There was the hospital weight loss plan that involved nothing but liquid shakes.  And the dozens of diet books she has bought me as "gifts". 

I tried each time we went on one of her weight loss helps.  But I only managed to lose a few pounds here or there.  So then my mother's help turned toward medical means.  We learned I have poly cystic ovaries leading to high testosterone levels which impact my weight.   We learned I tend toward insulin resistance.  We learned I have sleep apnea and high cortisol levels.  And we learned that my adrenal glands and thyroid are functioning as expected. Yay for that piece of good news.  I look back on my teens and twenties and the general message I accepted about myself was this: I was broken, and I needed to be fixed. 

Now in the final year of my thirties, I do see that my mother's motives were those of love for me and fear for my future. She didn't mean to scar me or embarrass me.  She would never want me to feel unworthy of love because I felt broken.  She meant well, and I have accepted that.  And through those lessons, some painful, I have learned that she was right: I do need help.  This war on obesity is big.  There are numerous battles to win, and I need support. Finding the support that is right for me (or right for you) is important.

Last week I went to a weight loss meeting that my mother-in-law has been attending.  I walked in and immediately felt out of place.  Older woman in their late fifties or sixties were doing gentle stretches before they dove into Grocery Shopping 101.  This group has a good success rate, but it wasn't for me.  I knew it at my core, and I graciously walked out leaving my MIL to stretch to her heart's delight.  At first I felt like a failure for leaving, for giving up before I really tried.  After a short cry I wiped my tears and realized I didn't fail, but I had stood up for myself.  I didn't let someone else make the decision for me.    I know myself a lot better than I give myself credit for.  So I need to make a plan - MY PLAN!

I like having measurable goals-- something concrete that I can attain to.  Either I do it or I don't - it's no longer a philosophical debate when I write down the actual steps I will take.  Plans change.  They grow and change as we learn more and embrace change.  When I taught school we tried to make goals for our students that would force them to reach just above their current ability.  Once they master that goal, then we adjust it so they are forced to reach a little farther.  This is called working in the Zone of Proximal Development. I figure I need a Zone of Proximal Development too!  So here are my first five immediate goals as I step into the ZPD:

1. Find a Weight Watcher's Meeting near me and go in the next month. I need accountability.  (I will explain in another post why I decided to go back to WW.)
2. Stop drinking Diet Coke.  I know it has impacts on my metabolism and my acid reflux.  On the reverse side, I will then increase water intake.
3. Limit my carbs - my body does not respond well to breads and pasta - much to my despair.  I can feel the aches and pains and the insulin surges when I eat a lot of simple carbs.  This is probably going to be one of my hardest goals.
4. Try to eat as many whole foods as possible.  Load up on greens.
5. Walk.  Even if it is just down the street, I need to get moving.  Bear the pain and walk.

Here I go...one day at a time.