onceafatgirl

Dear God, thank you for answering my prayer. Oh, and one more thing…

So finally, for the first time in 11 months, not only did I not gain weight, I lost weight! 2 whole lbs! I’m back down to 160.2. Which is about where I was back on February 1st. And I can’t really explain to you the relief.

The consistent, nonsensical weight gain is finally done. I don’t know what will happen now. But that irrational fear, that I would continue to gain weight endlessly, even while I maintained my food boundaries, has gone. And it feels similar to waking up in the middle of the night to find that your fever has broken.

But I am trying not to start projecting my weight loss into the future. Because I started to go there pretty quickly. Right away, in fact. I got off the scale and went into the kitchen to make breakfast, and started calculating losing 2 lbs a month. Or what if I lost more than 2 lbs a month?!? I could be down to 135 in under a year!

And then I started to ask myself “what if I don’t get that skinny again? What’s the highest weight I could live with?”

I want to stop that kind of thinking. I mean, “live with”? I used to weigh 300 lbs and I’m not dead, so I’m guessing I could live with any weight. I don’t want to love myself conditionally.

And also, ungrateful much, Kate? I prayed so hard for the weight gain to stop. Begged and bargained with God. Just for it to stop! And here it has stopped, and I barely took time to be grateful that I didn’t gain weight. I barely even took time to be grateful that I lost weight! Within minutes, I started worrying about how and when I was going to lose even more weight.

I really thought that the weight gain stopping would be enough to satisfy me. At least for a while. And the truth is that my relationship to my body is now different than it had been since the weight gain started. When I stop to think about it, there had been an underlying heaviness and a fear that permeated my daily life since last July. And yet, already, I am used to the “new normal” of not being perpetually worried about indefinite weight gain. And I have already begun having expectations of weight loss. And not just expectations. Ultimatums for God. You better, or else. Good Lord, Kate. Or else what? Or else, nothing. That’s what…

So all I can do right now is stay in the moment. When I find myself worrying or projecting or wishing or daydreaming about how long it will take me to lose the weight I gained, I have to stop thinking that thought. I have to change my mind.

And I have decided that when I start having thoughts about how it would be ok if I only end up losing 15 or 10 or X number of lbs, I want to stop having those thoughts too. I want to stop focusing on my body.

I wanted that before too, of course. And tried not to focus on my body. But while I didn’t know what was going on, or how much weight I would gain, or how long it would go on for, that wasn’t really a practical option for a girl with food issues and body image disorders. But now that there has been a break in the trend, I have some room to breathe. And to shift my focus.

Because I have many things to focus on. Being madly in love. Making sure my meals are delicious and within my boundaries. Figuring out what of my stuff is worth keeping and what is not. Boxing up my life and shipping it to my new home. Planning my going away party. Tying up the loose ends of the past 14 years of my life. Preparing for my biggest life adventure yet. And generally figuring out how to be the best girlfriend in the whole world. Important things. More important than what size I am.