Thiz Time Will Be Different

Today is a dangerous day.

Over the past how many years I have starved myself, exercised (not much) and fought my way to twenty or thirty pounds of weight loss at a time (can you tell I am obsessed?).   Every time, without fail, that I reach that magic number I binge my way back up, plus a few.

The day I hit the "skinny pants" stage, as my friend called it, was the day I was felled by ravenous hunger, a Big Mac attack (I HATE Big Macs; make that cheeseburger) that did not respond to peanut butter (my mainstay), apricot jam on rice cakes or caffeine.  It was after my second Russell Stover maple cream egg that I had the "AHA" moment.  I spent two grueling hours at the Y attempting to stifle my latest binge.

I am not one who struggles with those last ten pounds.  I never get to that point.  I remember a classmate telling me once that he could never be a doctor like his father because he couldn't stand looking at fat people.  What if I run into him one of these days?   I have decided that if I don't lose at least most of this, or maybe learn to accept myself, I will not go to the next reunion.  That's final.  The last one I attended was a disaster, and I don't need a repeat.  Guess I haven't come along as far as I think I have, huh?  Lots of self-image work to be done some days....

There are days I feel good, like the skinny pants day (they are not size four, just a landmark). Then I catch a glimpse in a rest room mirror.  These are the times when the old insecurities, fueled by years of reminders, come to the front..  I want to stay on an even keel.   I want to be confident all of the time, not sometimes.  I don't take rejection well.  I want to be loved and desired because I am ME.

I will not succumb to drug-induced euphoria (except caffeine).  I will not cry my eyes out at sarcasm.  Like Kirstie Allie, I will dance on in spite of the snickers.

Until the day I finally become whole (which does not necessarily mean reach my goal weight), I will probably obsess about poundage.  I will continue to be inwardly jealous of my slimmer comrades.  I will pray daily that I will be gifted with the goodness, kindness, sexiness (did I really say that?) and personality that will draw people close in spite of my physical appearance.

This time. I will pass through this difficult day without failing.  This time, I will do it one day at a time, one pound at a time, one mile at a time, one Roc-It ab machine at a time.  This time, I won't listen to anybody who says I'm fat or even "RUBENESQUE", a polite way of saying fat when they think you are too dumb to recognize the reference.   This time I won't care if I have to walk alone.  This time, I will smile because I want to, I will flirt because I can, I will dance because it feels good to let loose once in awhile.  And if I run into that classmate, I will turn on all my charm and hope that works.

This time, when you look at me, if all you see is a size fourteen instead of a four, it is your loss.  You will be missing out on knowing one terrific lady.