• I’m Fat, but I’m Hungry

    Posted on February 11, 2017 by in Uncategorized

    Completed day 1.  After 15 years, no wait… Make that 20 years of dieting, losing weight, gaining weight, thinking and dreaming that I’d some-how magically just look like I looked at the age of 20, I’m doing something different.

    Wait, did I say look like I looked when I was 20… Holy shit, that means 30 years of dieting, ok… We’ll settle the difference, let’s say 25 years.  I started gaining the weight around 25, 26.  

    I was not a fat kid, I was very athletic, but never thought about what I ate.  In fact, I was a huge eater and people remarked at how much I ate, but didn’t get fat.

    That all changed after 25. 

    Thus began my 25 year voyage of image issues and a weird and fucked up relationship with food.  

    Maybe not fucked up… But certainly it was a relationship at odds with reality!

    The thing is, I love food.  I love making it, I love eating it and I don’t think food is bad.  I also get hungry.  Yeah, not the I’m physically needing nourishment, but Hungry… In the sense of wanting satisfaction.  

    It’s funny because I was so embarrassed to cook as a kid.  My big sister was way into Martha Stewart, my dad was an excellent cook, my step dad an excellent cook, even my mum made some pretty awesome meals.  I felt so intimidated about making food in front of people.  In fact, as I was cooking one night while preggers (I was living with my dad at the time, after being kicked out and deported- oh yeah… That’s a ripe story, but for another time)…. Anyway, I was cooking and a friend of my dad’s stopped by.  The gent said he thought was I was making looked pretty good.  Dear ole supportive daddy asked his buddy… Say, do you want some hot dogs!  

    I’m sure you can imagine how that made my self confidence flourish!

    Anyway… I did recover from that remark and continued to figure out how to cook and enjoy what I cooked.

    The thing is, while I was preggers (with my gorgeous daughter, Kamie), I was so health conscious.  I was careful about my sodium, my fat content… All of it!  I was probably the most healthy in my life those 7 months (I went full term, but the 1st 2 months of my pregnancy was horrific- that’s where the deportation story comes in!)

    ANYWAY…..

    My weight issues began when I stopped cooking and relied on others to prepare my meals.  The sauces, pasta’s and gravy.  Oh, and my penchant for salty things… Meats, cheeses and potato chips.

    yeah… I ballooned!

    But I didn’t get that I was putting on weight.  This even AFTER I was in line at work having breakfast.  The kind server told me that she’d only give me 1/2 the amount as she didn’t want me getting fat.  

    Yep… She said it.  There’s something culturally awesome about Filipino women (I think it’s just Asian women, or maybe it’s just opinionated women!)…. But she said what I’m sure was on everyone’s mind.

    I walked away with my sausage and eggs… And wondered what the hell she meant.  

    I stopped wondering when my friend at the time referred to me as a “woman of size”.  

    And the deal was sealed when I heard “such a pretty face”.

    oi

    I heard the pretty face comment when I was in my thirties.  The woman of size comment was when I was 28.  I caught a video of myself at my friend’s Rio’s wedding.  I was rolling around the floor… I was wearing a red sweater and I realized I looked like a little red ball.

    I was about 32.  I finally realized I really was overweight.  And I was shocked. the disbelief was still there… But I knew it had to be true.

    The other day (fast forward to now, I’m 50 now)…  Robin and I were talking (Robin is my most excellent husband).  I was on my way to my first appointment for my medically monitored weight loss regime.  I had made the decision to do this about 6 weeks ago.  I had been through the gamut of emotions and while driving to my first appointment (the consult was 2 days ago), I realized I had been going through some sort of grieving process.  I was trying to remember the stages of grief (flashing back to my all time fav movie, All that Jazz)… And I said… I was finally at acceptance.

    Here’s those stages by the way… I first was thinking about the 5 stages… Anger, denial, bargaining, acceptance…  Hmmm… That’s only 4… Well… What-ev’s…  I’m at acceptance.  Truly so.  And that’s what this blog is about.  The phases, stages of acceptance.  Acceptance that being Hungry, in all it’s metaphorical and reality based phases.  

    Day 1 (my diet is New Directions, under the medical advise of Dr V. Sutherland’s clinic).  Day was good.  The night before I went to the Spa and had my standard, Bi Bim Bap… Korean dish with veggies, rice and an egg.  I decided to order dumplings, for Robin of course.  but I was of the mind that I might have a go at 2 of them.  I actually didn’t, but I thought about them all night long and then all day.

    but… I was pleasantly surprised to find how good and filling my meal replacements actually are.  In fact, because I had a weird EKG blip (wonder if I should be worried, I do have a heart murmur)… Anyhoo… I was so happy to have my bar and then I got to have pudding AND I got to have soup.  It was an OK day.  I even did a few stairs and did about a 1/4 of my daily step goal.  A good day.

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