I Lost Over 50 Pounds!
Twice!
To be honest, I would guess that I have lost 300 pounds in my lifetime! One would think that I resemble Twiggy (remember her?) wouldn’t they? Well, I don’t. I’m not saying I’m fat, but skinny, I’m not!
I have fought my weight all my life. It all began when I had my tonsils out at age seven. I had been such a “sickly kid” up until then, and once I got “well,” I guess I ate like there was no tomorrow! I still remember my mother (my sweet, sweet mother) telling me that I had to wear “tailored” clothes with box pleats and no frills because they were “slenderizing.” I can still picture the huge CHUBETTE sign that loomed over the section of the local children’s store where my mother took me to shop. (The sign is the truth. I didn’t make it up.) The message from that sign always has been and always will be a painful memory and vision in my mind.
All of my skinny little girlfriends wore white cotton blouses, gathered cotton-print skirts and their saddle oxfords. I wore “tailored” wools and box pleats – and of course, my saddle oxfords.
My mother was so supportive, but back in the late fifties, people were not as knowledgeable about nutrition and life style as they are today; or at least my family wasn’t. My mother always gave me compliments, and commented on my “peaches and cream” complexion, but that didn’t compensate for my “chubette” self-image, and my poor self-esteem. (I must admit that the short, curly perm didn’t help, either!)
I remember one instance when I was in fourth or fifth grade. My mother had a friend of hers make me a cotton gathered skirt. The fabric was in shades of blue with white sailboats on it. I had a crisp little white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, and I thought this outfit was beautiful! I know now that my mother got me this skirt because she wanted me to be happy, and she knew how much I wanted to be like the other girls. I even talked her into buying me a crinoline to make the skirt stand out. I loved my outfit, and Mother even let me wear the skirt and blouse to school, but not the crinoline. As I look back, I am sure the crinoline effect was close to obscene.
One day, I was wearing my blue and white sailboat outfit to school, and I asked, again, if I could wear the crinoline. “No, Honey, not to school. You can wear it to play, though.” With that I wadded up the crinoline and stuck it inside my coat. As I was walking to school, I stopped about half a block down the street and slipped the crinoline up under my skirt. Off I went, waddling to school, crinoline and all! Of course, on my way home, I had to stop again and stuff the crinoline in a bush down the street. Later that evening, I retrieved my crinoline, and I never told my mother. How important is it for a child to be “like everyone else?” I guess important enough to defy my mother, and I was really not a defiant-type child. I just loved that crinoline!
When I was twelve years old, my mother asked our doctor about “doing something about” her “weight problem.” That was during the “diet pill rage,” and he didn’t hesitate to write out a prescription. Have you ever heard of Dexies; you know, Dexedrine? Well, that’s what it was, and my unsuspecting mother, who thought she was doing me a favor, followed the doctor’s advice. Did I lose weight? Yes! I lost over twenty-five pounds, and started junior high school with what I considered a normal, more attractive figure. I would say that I was just about average-sized, not fat, not skinny, until I reached womanhood. Then came college, marriage, and two children (in that order) and along with these great times of my life came the gradual pounds.
Since I have been an adult, I have tried Weight Watchers, NutriSystem, an all-liquid diet, the boiled-egg and grapefruit diet, Atkins, South Beach, and starvation. I remember one of my string-bean friends saying to me one day, “I don’t understand why people can’t lose weight. If you need to lose weight, just don’t eat as much!” I had to remind myself that she couldn’t relate to the problems of the overweight because she could eat anything and everything she wanted and never gain a pound. She wasn’t being judgmental (or was she?), she just couldn’t relate.
So I mentioned that I have lost over fifty pounds (twice), and you might be wondering what finally worked! (We’ll talk about the “twice” thing later.) Here’s what finally worked for me…
I was teaching middle school math, and I loved my job. I must say that I also loved my life. I had a great, loving husband and two loving children. The problem was that I didn’t love myself – or at least the way I looked. There was another teacher in my building who sported a size 16, much like me. All of a sudden, I looked at her one day, and I noticed that she had dropped about three sizes. I wondered, “How could she lose that much weight and I just now noticed?” I asked her secret, and she said that she had lost thirty-five pounds by counting calories and fat grams, and she still had a ways to go. (She ended up a nice size 5.) I listened to her details and filed it in my memory bank for that diet that I would start “someday.”
A couple of years later, my husband passed away quite suddenly. The next five years, I was a “single mom” with all the responsibility of raising two teenage kids, and I threw myself into my solitary role. When my youngest went to college, I took a look at myself, and for the first time in my life, decided that I was going to make myself a priority. And that, I did!
I never said, even to myself, that I was going on a diet. I just told myself that I was beginning a new “life.” I became the ultimate label-reader, and I vowed to stick to under 900 calories and under 20 fat grams a day. I also made an effort to keep the fat grams even lower, below 10 grams a day, when possible. I also vowed that I would never weigh myself, I wouldn’t tell anyone until they noticed, I would reward myself once a week, and I would think about only one day at a time. I knew that in the past, I would get weighed after three or four days of a self-depriving diet to find that I hadn’t lost a pound. With that knowledge, I would “fall off the wagon” and give up. I didn’t want to tell anyone only because of my fear of failure – again – and I couldn’t face anyone knowing that I was a failure – again. One-day-at-a-time came from the AA program for alcoholics, and realizing that I was a food-aholic, I thought this made sense. So, the process began.
I remember how I felt those first two weeks. I would literally leave school on my lunch hour with every intention of giving in and hitting McDonalds, but for some reason, I would talk myself out of it (sometimes even out loud), and drive back to school without weakening. Was I proud of myself? Not really. I was miserable, and I had a headache, and I was shaky, and I just didn’t feel good. But….after a couple of weeks….I started noticing that I was feeling better. I had no more headaches, fewer shaky times, and less and less appetite. Once I felt better, I just kind of forgot about it for the most part, except when I was label reading at the grocery or mentally counting up my daily calories and fat grams.
I began my new eating regime in October, and late in December, I remember going shopping for a new outfit. I was going to a function at my daughter’s sorority house, and I wanted her to be proud of me – and – my clothes were getting pretty baggy! Being optimistic, I took size 14’s into the fitting room, and I was shocked to see that even those were too big! I left the store with a size 12 navy blue pantsuit, and for the first time, I realized that this just might work!
The biggest difference in this “diet” and those of my past was that I didn’t give up. Even if I had a weak moment and ate something I shouldn’t, or even if I had a day where I ended up eating 1200 calories, I went right back to it the next day instead of just thinking, “Well, I blew it! Let’s eat!” And week after week, month after month, I was gradually taking smaller sizes to the fitting room.
In May, it was time for high school graduation, and I knew I would be working (I had a new job as high school dean that year.) I went shopping for just the “right” thing to wear to graduation, and I went home with a size 6 jacket and skirt. I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t wear a size 6 in high school! And now, at age forty-six, I was enjoying an accomplishment that I never thought I would achieve!
Let me tell you why I think it worked. First of all, I didn’t try to avoid carbohydrates. Many high-carb foods such as English muffins, bagels, and fat-free pretzels, are low in fat. Remember, I was counting two things: calories and fat grams. I could also satisfy my sweet tooth with things like sherbet, strawberries, and cantaloupe. I could eat out almost anywhere as long as they had chicken breasts, fat-free salad dressing, and baked potatoes. (I ate baked potatoes with salt and lots of pepper all the time which were high in carbs, but low in calories and fat) and I knew that if I ate less than 900 calories a day, I would lose weight. I also knew that you can’t count everything! (I didn’t worry about carbs or sodium.) I age no red meat or fried foods (both high in fat content), and I would eat huge salads that I mounded into mixing bowls, not salad bowls.
I wore a size 6-8 for the next four years.
Then came another set of new events in my life. I got married again (after nine years), had a hysterectomy, moved to a new job in a new city in a new state, and then began an antidepressant. Add a big hormone change to the adjustment to a new, more solitary existence and in my case, it equaled a period of depression. This might sound unbelievable to you, but I didn’t know that antidepressants were known to add on pounds. Nobody told me that, and I didn’t read up on the side effects, so over the next five years, the pounds began to creep back on. Now that’s depressing! The day I learned that antidepressants cause weight gain, I began to wean myself off, and I haven’t taken one since. (Now when I’m blue, I just remember how good it is going to feel in a day or two when I feel good again.)
About a year ago, I signed my declaration of independence. Again, I looked in the mirror, and I hated what I saw! I decided that I was acting much older than my age due to my poor self-image, and I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life that way. So, the time had come to start counting again. Calories and fat grams, that is. What I noticed was that ten years earlier, it had been a little easier and a little quicker. I also noticed that I didn’t tone up quite as well, and I was still pretty thick around the middle. But, I now am sporting 8’s and 10’s, and I guess I am satisfied. Let’s face it, few 57 year old women “turn heads,” and if I am not getting stares due to my fat body, I guess I am quite happy to just blend in.
My only regret in all my years of gaining and losing is that I didn’t “do it” earlier in life. My biggest fear is that I will “fall off” again. It is a constant battle, and it is on my mind every day of my life. I always say that I have a “fat brain,” because even though the size tag says a 6 or an 8 or a 10, I see nothing but “FAT” when I look in the mirror. Then, I’ll catch a glimpse of myself in a photograph, and I’ll think, “Hmmm, I guess I’m really not all that fat!”
