Skin - Part 2 - There will be extra!

Skin.... did I mention the extra skin!  Oh yeah!  I did!  It was a really long post about the cons of weight loss....

Well, I'm going to write about it again because I think it's a evil trick.  I mean, who lets someone lose 130 lbs (116 currently) and then says oh yeah and as a reminder for all the overeating you did in the past, you will now live forever with the weight and undesirable characteristics of excess skin!  Congratulations!  Oh, and don't forget how it will pull and tug at you causing your skin to tear and become sore -- ya know, just as a reminder of your gluttonous habits.  

It's no surprise that when you lose weight there will be extra skin.... you can read about it anywhere.  Of course, the less weight you have to lose, the less excess skin you'll have to carry.  Still, nothing can quite prepare you for the mental battle that this extra skin can cause - I'm going to post pictures so be prepared.... 

It seems as though every time I look in the mirror (without clothes), I'm pinching, pushing, pulling, or tucking at my extra skin.  "If I could just have this removed" or "When I get this removed."  I probably say those two statements at least 5 times a week to my hubby (okay, it's probably more).  

I say to myself, "If I could just have this apron removed from my waist," then I

pull the skin down and to the sides to smooth out my stretch marks.  It looks pretty good.  I can even see my hip bones (yep, I actually have those).  But then, something happens.  While my mid-line is looking a little more human like, I notice the skin on my thighs is sagging something awful.  My saddlebags are nearly folded over and the skin between my thighs appears to have creases as well - fold lines if you will.

Apron.... Zoomed

Then, I am saddened by the realization that no matter how much I think one surgery will help, there will always be something wrong with me.  There will always be that one spot that needs attention.  "Just a little off the sides, a lift here, plump these up...."  

It's gross, it's nasty, it messes with my self image and my confidence.  It keeps me from wearing the dresses I really like or short sleeve shirts.  And you can forget about shorts.  

And while all this extra skin is nasty, my attitude about myself as a human is nastier.  Why is it okay to demean myself so much because of the excess skin that hangs from my body?  I wonder just how shallow of a person I really am? 

I know that if given the ability to have skin removal surgery when I reach my goal weight, I'd do it.  And I also know with everything I have "fixed" I will simply find something else to find fault in.  It's how I work.  I don't think I'll ever just be content in my own skin --- pun intended.  ;)

Will I always have to do this?

It's a funny thing weighing your food and counting calories.  I mean it's inconceivable for me to think that there are other people out there that weigh their food and record it for every meal.  I guess it's that kind of cockiness that has gotten me to where I am today.  It's almost like if I don't believe anyone else could be recording their food then it must not be happening and if skinny people everywhere aren't weighing and recording their food then why should I have to?  

A month or so ago, I reread one of my journal entries from 2005; I wrote, "Will I always have to write down everything I eat.  Will this be something I have to do for the rest of my life?"  Every time I started a new diet, I started a new journal.... I have all these journal entries that start with me being excited and ready to lose weight and then after just a few entries, they stop.  No real signs of success and definitely no sign of persistence. 

I laughed when I read that entry.  I stumbled upon it at the perfect moment.  A moment when I was down, hadn't been recording my food, and was wondering why I had to record my food when other people didn't... of course, I have no idea if other people have to record their food.  Yet, at that moment in time, I felt like the stress from life was too much to handle adding the commitment of weighing and recording food.  Stress is something that often stops me from doing the things that are best for me.  It's another element of my anxiety.   

My hubby did start making us portioned lunches, healthy and weighed for the entire week.  I loved having these meals pre-made and they tasted great.  Like all things hard, we weren't great about keeping that going consistently and besides eating just my pre-made lunch, I was supplementing heavily with candy.  Something I LOVE.... I think I've mentioned that before.  

It's easy to think you're eating healthy because you do one or two things correctly and it's also easy to eat poorly because you think you're eating healthy.  I guess for people who eat healthy all the time or 90% of the time, they may not need to record their food.  I am not one of those people who eats healthy all the time.  I like to eat healthy, but I also love hamburgers and pizza and Chinese food and candy.... ya know all the really bad stuff.  So for me, I probably will have to record my food for the rest of my life and I'm going to have to learn to stop worrying if it's something that everyone else has to do or not.  It's clearly something I need to do.  I know it works for me and that should be reason enough.  

So for now, I need to get back on the wagon.  Those 18 pounds I've gained since December aren't going to lose themselves. 

Crippled by Anxiety

Wow!  As always, I'm amazed when I look back and see how long it has been since I last blogged.  Three months is way too long.  I know this because I've been telling myself to blog for weeks... maybe even months. 

This has been a rough three months.  I have gained 18 pounds since Christmas and with every single pound I gain, my anxiety is magnified.  It's amazing what stress does to your mind and your body.  I wish that I could say that it will all be okay, but I don't feel like that's true.  Every pound gets me one step closer to that 200 lb mark and if I cross that, I think I will feel like a complete failure all over again.  

It's interesting how you can trick yourself into believing that you are confident....  I do it all the time.  Mostly, I'm trying to convince everyone around me that I'm all good.  In reality, I'm a mess.... I've always been a mess.  I know I've mentioned before that I can't handle making simple phone calls to take care of things, such as paying bills.  It's not just making phone calls to people I don't know.  I can't make phone calls to people I do know either.  

Most of my days are a war against me and my brain.  One second I've convinced myself I'm confident, I look amazing, and I can do anything.  The next, I'm breaking inside because I'm bad at everything.... I'm a terrible mom, an awful wife, an inconsiderate sister, a lousy daughter, a cruddy granddaughter, an undeserving friend.... 

More seconds are spent in the demeaning section of my brain than in the confident part of my brain.  I wish this wasn't the case.  I do notice that the level of stress with which I am faced with drastically effects my ability to think positively.  I wonder how other people live life with stress.  I know everyone has it, but why is it so crippling for me?  Why do I try to self-destruct when faced with stress?  How do I change it?  And WHY on earth does food have to be my go to?  For goodness sake, why couldn't it have been running? 

I'm Still Mad as Hell

For the past four days I've been trying to get past the idea of being contacted by a "man" for what I would guess was only one thing....

And for four days, I haven not brushed my hair, put on make-up, put my contacts in, or felt comfortable in my skin.

And for four days, I've hid my body in baggy clothes.

And for four days, I've felt like my husband was mad at me or disappointed in me (although there is nothing to suggest this).  

And for four days, I've had trouble sleeping, had trouble waking up, and had trouble being happy.

It's been a LONG time since I have felt this much anxiety.  I don't even know why I have this much anxiety.  All I know is I feel like this is some sort of evil trick.  I've been very successful over the past three years with my weight loss journey and now out of the blue, I'm finding my insecurities are all still there.  

I thought I was strong, but I am not.  I thought I could do this, but right now, I cannot.  I thought I had an alternative to food, but I am learning, that I do not!  

I'm not even sure where to go from here right now.  What I do know, I still have no coping mechanism....  What I did have, apparently, was a lot less stress in my life.  Now that the stress and anxiety is back, I am realizing that food is still my coping mechanism.  

For four days, I've ate and ate and ate.  And I've exceeded my calorie goal every day.

For four days, my life has stopped.  My home life is suffering, my work is suffering, and I'm suffering. 

I guess the good news is, I have learned a lot about myself in the last four days.  And right now I'm scared.  I don't know how to move forward and mostly, I'm mad as hell (I guess I need to put that song on repeat)!  I'm mad that I can't cope in a different way.  I'm mad that I need to cope!  I'm mad that I feel guilty and I've done nothing wrong!  I'm just MAD!

This isn't a very positive or helpful blog post, but it's raw, it's honest, it's how I feel, and it's sad that this happens to women/men every single day!  

What it's like to lose 100 lbs

One of the biggest reason I wanted to lose weight was for my children.  I wanted to be sure that I was healthy enough to be around for a long time and that I'd have the opportunity to see my grandchildren grow.  I also didn't want to embarrass my children.  Although they would never admit it, I worry that my children will feel embarrassed when their mom doesn't fit the seatbelt on the plane or can't quite squeeze into that ride at Disney Land, but more importantly, I worry that they'll be embarrassed when they have to stop and wait for their mom to walk up the stairs to their school or barely fit on the seat at the school concert.  It's really the day to day struggles with being fat that makes it hard to be a good parent or at least one that doesn't embarrass her children.  

The timing of my healthy living movement was really based on my anxiety around my children's embarrassment.  My oldest daughter graduates in 7 months and I knew when I started this journey that I only had about two years to get down to a weight that wasn't embarrassing.  I wanted the spotlight to be on her, not on whether or not I could get up and down the stairs to watch her graduation or her friends finally seeing me and thinking about how big her mom is (WAS).  With 7 months to go, I have about 60 pounds to lose before I meet my overall goal, but honestly I'd be thrilled with another 40.  The problem is, as I have posted several times in my last few posts, I'm not currently losing weight.  

The bigger problem is, I kinda secretly hate my new body.  So, I don't hate it when I have clothes on
and I don't hate the fact that I fit into my son's coat or my daughter's jeans.  I don't hate being able to buy clothes out of the women's section or that my shirt size is large.  I love all of those things.  It makes me feel like me again.  I do however, hate that my boobs are smaller...a lot smaller.... One day, my daughter said to me, "I thought you weren't wearing a bra because your boobs are so much different."  I might be able to handle smaller boobs if they were a little less flimsy.  I feel like I could fold them in half.  I've always been busty and I'm still not small chested by any means (not yet anyway), but I have no volume to them and that makes me sad.  I hate them!  I don't feel sexy or beautiful because I can literally see folds of skin when I look into my bra.  Lots of folds.  

While my breasts are kind of a big deal for me, they aren't the only body part I hate.  My stomach, although it used to be similar in look (mom apron), it is a lot softer.... I don't know how else to describe it, but it has no bounce back.  I push on it and it's just floppy.  It's gross.  Oh, then there is my hips....  The skin just folds over there too.  Oh, then there is my butt.  Ah, I'm happy to not have a butt growing on top of my butt (you know, the extra hump that seems to grow at the top as you get heavier and heavier), but I had that it has not rigidity.  Another body part that folds over.  My arms are flappy too, but I guess I'm okay with that because I don't remember ever being happy with my arms.  Although they are flappy, at least they are smaller.

I'd love to be happy with my body and love me for me, but I think I was better at that when I was heavier.  I was okay with my big butt because it was firm.  I was fine with big breasts because they were solid.  Now, everyday I face a body that grosses me out.  I don't feel sexy for myself or my hubby.  I know that when I lose my next 60 pounds that it will only get worse.  I wonder what body parts will I start to hate then.  It's hard for me to be content with my body and want to lose weight when I'm not happy with the way that I look at the end of the day.... or beginning.  I'm not trying to make any excuses, but I think I'm self-sabotaging because I can't seem to find peace with my current body.  

On a side note, but also important to me, I feel weaker.  I used to think I was strong.  I could lift things, move things, and generally do things on my own.  Now, I can't and it is frustrating.  

Time to start building muscle and toning up this flabby body.  I just worry about how I'll handle it emotionally if I don't get the results that I think I should have.  And the anxiety returns and my drive to improve dies.  

199 - Say What?!

Although, my last post was fairly negative, I didn't mean to give the impression that I had given up.  Yes, I have not been working very hard to reach my goals, but that doesn't mean that I have completely given up.

On the plus side, I have lost 13 lbs since this school year started.  Although, I'd be much happier with 13 lbs a month, I'm still happy that I have been able to find moments in time where I could be successful during this very stressful time.

An added bonus, on September 30th, I weighed in at exactly 200 pounds.  I honestly don't remember the last time I weighed that amount, but I know that it was probably when I was pregnant with my first daughter.  So, over 17 years ago.

An even bigger feat for me was a few days later when I weighed again and the scale read 199.  Interestingly, while overwhelmed with excitement to see a 1 as the first number on the scale, there was some disappointment to see that big 99 as the last two digits.  For years, I have been messing up and saying I weigh 1-something.  So, when the scale said 199, it was sort of hard for me to be happy about.  It just reminded me of how mentally challenging weight loss can me.  I should have been jumping up and down with joy, crying, screaming and celebrating.  Although I was happy, I wasn't as thrilled as I expected.  Seeing 99 sort of made me feel like I was at my biggest again.  Still, my family took me out to celebrate; after all, you only get to go under 200 lbs once - right?

Over a month later, the scale continues to go back and forth over the 200 mark.  I haven't been able to find steady success under 200 and I know what I need to do, but haven't found the strength to do it yet.  I hope November turns out to be the month I figure it all out and get back on track, but if it's December or January, I'll be happy.  The important thing is not to lose hope and to look back at how far I've come.

I'm having a hard time finding full body pictures of myself before the one I posted above.... I wonder why?  When I find one, I'll be happy to post a now and then comparison of me at my biggest and hopefully me at my smallest (since high school).  Whenever I scroll through Facebook and see old photos of myself, I am in shock.  I can now see why others may not recognize me.  Although, I finally feel "normal" again, they never saw me as the person I am today.  When I look in the mirror, I see the same thing I saw for years and I now understand why it was so easy to be secretly obese.

The Other Stress of Parenting

You'd think that writing a blog would be the easy part of this journey, but apparently it's just one more thing that I can use lack of time as an excuse as to why I don't do it.  As I mentioned in my last post, I understand the importance of blogging to my success and yet, I still haven't done it in over two months.  It's not the only thing I've made an excuse for in the past two months.  I haven't recorded a full days worth of food in my food journal or bothered to actually exercise in that time either.  While I'd like to analyze why I haven't taken the time to do any of those things, I think I need to start by getting out my excuses for not doing it.

You see, I'm a teacher which means my year runs from late August to mid June.  When I think about the start of the new year, I'm not picturing a New Year's celebration on January 1st.  Instead, I'm picturing organizing desks and classroom supplies, decorating walls, planning lessons, and trying to memorize 90-100 new faces.  So, when I look back at my life (at least since being a teacher), I see it in chunks of time that go from August to August.  And this is important because when I talk about last year vs. this year, I'm talking about my life in school years.

Last year at this time, I was still fairly fresh on my life changing journey to become a better - healthier me.  With fairly little effort, I had lost 28 pounds.  Also, I had changed schools and I had found my new position, although still full of challenges, to be rather refreshing and relaxing in comparison to my previous years.  While there were still the same struggles with day to day life, I was not overly stressed.

Fast-forward a year later and I'm stuck in a rut.  I feel the pressure of this school year far more than I did last year.  This probably means I'm a better teacher this year, but I also know that means I'm taking a larger toll on my body, soul, and mind!  My year started out strange as I was the most experienced math teacher at my grade-level department meetings.  There is a weird strain that is placed on a person in that position (or maybe I placed it on myself) to be a leader and help others to be successful.  So, instead of worrying about whether my classroom was a success or not, I'm worrying about the success of almost everyone in the department.  There are some other factors that have added to my stress at work and will continue to be there as the year progresses.  I think that's true in any job though.  Still, I've never been good at managing stress.  I have a very strong "flight" mode when I feel stressed.  And I think, "flight" might sometimes mean eating away the stress or drinking away the stress.  I'm not much of a drinker, but during very stressful years, I will find myself drinking a few nights a week where as on non stressful years, it might be a few times a month.  Mostly, those things are masking the real "flight mode" that I feel I need to take: quitting my job.  Without those crutches, I don't know how I would have ever kept working.


In addition to a stressful start to the school year, it is my oldest daughter's senior year of high school.  Everything costs so much money and right now, I am so thankful that my dream to have twins never came true!  Besides the cost associated with being a senior, there is the added stress of her leaving for college.  While I worry a lot about where she will end up, I worry more about her facing rejection.  I know that she will not be accepted into every college she applies for, but I don't know how to help her through the disappointment of not being good enough.  I sense she will handle this better than I ever would have.  Which is probably why I never applied to go to college.  I fear she has put so much pressure on herself that she will break and I won't know how to help her.  I never dreamed about what my daughter would be when she grew up.  I didn't picture her as a doctor or an actress or a pilot or anything.  All I ever wanted for any of my children was for them to be happy and choose a path that makes them happy!  And now, as I know the time is coming to set her free to find what truly makes her happy, I worry that she may never find happiness.

Oh, yeah, and did I mention that she's headed to France this summer and we need to find a way to pay for that without making her feel like she is a burden on our family....

Then, there is my son.  He LOVES football.  He has played for three years.  His first year he thought it was alright, but he didn't really know if he wanted to keep playing.  However, something happened in the offseason his first year and he began to really study the game.  Since then, he has worked hard to get better.  Still, his coaches haven't been great about giving him the recognition he deserves.  He is a great kid and makes hard choices to do the right thing even when his friends aren't and yet those same friends are the ones the coaches idolize.  I want them to see him as the hardworking leader he is, but instead they seem to ignore him.  It has been so hard for me to keep my mouth shut and not point out the good things they haven't given him credit for (tackles, sacks, fumble recoveries, covering multiple positions for injured players, being at practice daily, working hard, being a positive role model).  I coached for the last three years and I made sure every player felt like an important part of the team.  And sometimes that meant encouraging them to show up and be there for their team.  This boy is there everyday at least 30 minutes early, he is the first one to the huddle, he never messes around, and he seriously studies the game on his own time.  Yet, he can walk right by the coaches and they don't even say hi.  They never say hi to me.  They completely ignore me or act like I'm not a mom.  After three years with them, I am thrilled to be done with these coaches, but man their lack of understanding about what it means to be a TEAM and the importance of family had been a HUGE stress for me this season.  Their season ended a week ago and I still wake up in the middle of the night irritated and thinking of all the things I want to say to the coaches.  The stress of knowing that my child doesn't feel valued is unbearable sometimes.  I don't know how to overcome this kind of stress either.  I know that there will be times in all of my children's lives that they won't be given credit for what they did or they won't be valued or accepted as they should be, but at 13 everyone should feel supported and important.

Now, I have two more children who have had great coaches and the stress that I feel for them to be valued or accepted is currently much smaller, but that isn't always the case.  Why didn't anyone ever tell me that the real stress of parenting - the very, very hardest part - would be seeing my children's hard work and effort devalued, watching them fail, and having them believe they weren't good enough?  How can this be fair?  I can only hope that we have provided them with enough love and support to feel valued even when someone else can't see their worth.

And so, these are stresses that are keeping me awake at night.  These are stresses that put so much strain on me that I can feel pressure in my chest.  These are stresses that convince me that I need to quit my job and stay home.  These are stresses that keep me from making healthy choices.

While they are still just excuses, I know, feel, and live the authenticity of these excuses every day.  To some, I know, they will seem minimal and conquerable.  To me, they are not.  I don't see an end in sight, I can't look past them and move on.  These are things that heighten my anxiety and keep me from being happy.  I know that I need to find a way to be healthy and take care of me first, but like every time I've started something "for me" in the past, I just don't see how my health/happiness trumps my children's.

Envy

So the other night, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this post from an old friend.  I read through the comments and recognized someone I hadn't seen since about the 5th or 6th grade (maybe before that).  I tend to think that I don't forget about people, but this person hadn't crossed my mind for 20 years.  I went into total stalker mode -- Facebook is good for that.

After going through several of her photos, I realized she's still got "it."  Sadly, I was not happy for this 36 year old woman who seemed to have a pretty great life and the body/looks to match.  Instead, I went into total judgement/comparison mode and ended in a jealous-anxiety fit.  Immediately, I go into thanking my husband for marrying me (and I am very thankful for that) and spouting off depressing things about him not having the opportunity to find someone better!  WTF?!  I mean, I was fine! FINE! five minutes before that.  Proud of the life I have, the marriage I have, the kids I have raised, the career I've chosen, the weight I've lost....

This crazy behavior proves that although I'm "working on it," I still have a long way to go!  The good thing is, I was able to fall asleep and actually sleep.  The better thing is, I woke up refreshed and thinking why in the world are you comparing two totally different lives with one another?  I think this is progress.  This is something that could have brought me down for quite sometime.

I'm about to make a judgement/comparison/jealousy statement (admitting you have a problem is the first step - I think):  I am so envious of some of my friends who lead their lives full of happiness and love for others.  I try to do that, sometimes I think I do...maybe I need to give myself more credit, but these people amaze me.  I love them to pieces because they look at the world with an open mind.  Although I pretend to do this, I'm not as good at it as I'd like to believe.  I think deep down (maybe not that deep), I feel like if I open up to this person or that person, I might get duped.  Maybe they don't really like me, they're only pretending, and then someday they'll attack (whatever that means).  For this reason, I keep a guard up....  I cannot remember anyone ever doing something like this to me, but I remember feeling like this as far back as grade school.  This seems quite demented and makes me wonder why I have this strange fear.  

In high school, this boy kept asking me to a dance - so often it was really annoying.  I never said yes, but I probably would have if I didn't think that he was joking.  I thought it was just a prank.  He was a good friend and I liked him as a person, but I really thought there was some surprise ending that was lurking in the shadows if I said yes.  Why?  What would make me think that?  It's surprising that I said yes when my now hubby asked me out the first time.  It's probably because the risk was worth the reward.    

I think the woman on Facebook reminded me that I'm not the only lady out there.... Seriously, sometimes I forget.  It makes me question if I'm good enough for my husband; which is just awful and he's never treated me as if I wasn't.  It's just another irrational fear that I can't figure out where it stems from.  It's like I think, if he sees this woman and sees how hot she is then maybe he'll wish he had dated her instead.  Sad fact, I've deleted people from my Facebook page because they were too pretty....  What it the hell is wrong with me!

I'll take the small victory of being able to let it go quickly, but I wonder if I'll ever be able figure out what causes me to react this way.  Maybe it doesn't matter what causes it, only that I fix it.  Now, how do I do that?

Judging or Comparing?

For as long as I can remember I've compared myself to others.  I've been obsessed with knowing how I compare to other people.  In high school I wanted to know who was prettier and was mortified if someone didn't think I was the prettiest person.  This is weird for me to think about because I never really considered myself to be "that person".  I think it was all part of wanting to be accepted as an equal to people who might be viewed as better than me.    

As I gained weight I began doing it more and more.  I would see other women that I thought were larger than me and I would think oh that person looks cute and I'm smaller than her, so I'm fine.  On occasion, I would even asked my husband if I was bigger than some random lady and of course he always said no; which made me feel OK with the weight I was.  Comparing myself to heavy people (who I thought were heavier than me) was an excuse for me to keep hiding my obesity.  This was especially true if I believed the person I was comparing myself to looked great.  If they looked great, then I must look freaking awesome!

This fear of fitting in or being "normal" continues to haunt me even as I have begun to lose weight.  In many ways, this connects to my jealousy.  I worry that my husband will find someone better and leave.  I have no reason to feel this way, I just do.  

When we started working out, it was hard for me because I would see these women with amazing bodies.  My workout would then turn into an obsession about that person.  I would watch them like some crazy stalker and think about how they got to that point, what they ate, if they were in a relationship, and wonder if my husband also noticed their amazing body (although, I don't know how someone could miss it).   What could have been used as inspiration instead gave me an excuse not to go.  I preferred gym days where I saw lots of heavy people sweating on the treadmill, just as I was doing.  It gave me a sense of security.  I felt proud of those people for being there and I didn't feel like I was being judged.  Without saying anything, it felt like we were in this together and we knew how tough it was just to show up.  

I don't know why I judge other people.  I don't know why I compare myself to others.  I know that fear has ruled my life and that it still does and I believe this is why I compare and judge, but I know I've got to move past it if I want to move on and really be content with myself.     

What's "Secretly Obese"

I've been overweight for more than 18 years.  Still, I never really see myself as being obese.  Most of the time, I don't even see myself as overweight.  Yet, for 18 years, I've been trying to do something about my weight.  Well, sort of.  You see, I would try to do something about my weight for a little while, but I always fell short of actually accomplishing anything.  The reason why I struggled so much was because most of the time, I saw myself as skinny.  Yes, skinny!  I know it's crazy to think that someone who weighs over 200 pounds sees them self as skinny, but that's exactly what I felt.  I never believed I was fat.  In fact, most of the time when I talked about my weight I still would say one hundred ------ whatever, I was so blind that I didn't even have the first digit right and it was a big one!

In my heart, in my mind, I view myself as skinny.  That is until I step on a scale, look at a photograph of myself, go clothes shopping, or try to squeeze through a small space.  All of these things are rather brief moments in time.  Something I can either avoid (don't be in photos or use a scale) or put out of my mind once the experience is over (clothes are purchased or airplane ride is over).  Then, I quickly return to viewing myself as skinny.  I would say I have a pretty healthy self-esteem.

The problem with this "healthy" self-esteem is that I never viewed myself as fat for long enough to do something about it.  I mean really make a change.  Something lasting that would positively impact my life both physically and emotionally.  Sure, I've keep weight loss diaries and journals in the past.  I've tried weight loss programs repeatedly, worked-out, kept food journals.  You name it, I've probably tried.  With the exception of weight loss pills.  Still, I always fell back into my old habits.  I see myself as skinny and I don't think I eat very much.  So, naturally, I convince myself that whatever weight I'm currently at is my "ideal weight."  Sounds silly right?  Well, not so much when you never really view yourself as obese.  

While I'm proud of my positive self image and willingness to try anything that isn't restricted by my weight, I am worried that this unrealistic idea of what my weight really is and what it's doing to me is going to be passed on to my children.  I think it's healthy to have a positive body image, but to what degree?



My Previous Blog:  Struggling With Weight Loss