For about a year now, this photo of me has been hanging on the refrigerator at my parents’ house.
Forgive the blurriness, I had to take a photo of the photo to be able to show it to you.
That photo was taken when I was 12 years old… about 11 years ago. It’s amazing to think about what I’ve done to my body in that time. 12 years ago I was 5’6″, and I weighed 145 pounds. So in the past 11 years, I managed to pack almost 100 pounds onto that same 5’6″ frame and etched stretch marks into nearly every inch of my pale skin. I completely lost everything you see in that photo there, from the skinny waistline to the confidence it took to pose like that (in a bathing suit no less!) in front of a camera.
When I moved out of my parents’ home, I left this photo behind. I left it sitting on the refrigerator, tucked away behind coupons and newspaper clippings. In some sort of subconscious way, I guess I was once again allowing myself to slink back to the little hole I hid in for 11 years of my life.
Seeing this photo again this morning gave me hope again. When you start your weight loss journey 100 pounds overweight and you near the half-way point, it’s discouraging to look in the mirror and still see the same old fat girl you’re used to seeing. For me, I had spent so much time convincing myself that I really “wasn’t that bad” at my highest weight, that when I got to -48, I felt like I didn’t look like I had lost any weight. In truth, I had just finally gotten to the size I had talked myself into thinking I looked.
I’ve had a really hard time recommitting to the program. Be it boredom or complacency, I let the past four months really slip from me. Though I haven’t gained back what I certainly could have in this time, it’s hard for me to keep going. This photo has helped me to today have the confidence that I’m going to get to goal one day, even if I have to drag myself there kicking and screaming. Okay, maybe it won’t be that dramatic. But at some point I have to tell myself that no, I don’t need the food I’m putting in myself– I just want it. I have the luxury of being able to eat what I want, when I want it. It’s hard to recognize food as more of a means of sustaining life than a crutch or a pastime, but I’m getting there. Does that mean that I don’t thoroughly enjoy each meal, or eat yummy foods? No. It just means that I need to refocus this addiction into a healthier mindset.
What do you do to keep yourself motivated?