Chronicles of a Late Bloomer

I’ve alluded to it several times, but at this point in my journey it bears repeating: In my adult life, I have never weighed under 300 pounds.¹

Twice, I have successfully lost enough weight to approach the 300-pound mark — once I got as low as 304, and again down to 309 — but have never yet crossed it. I don’t remember crossing that mark the first time, either — as I ballooned past it sometime in the late 1990’s. I never cared to weigh or measure back then, only kept buying larger and larger sizes of mustard-yellow tentwear at the local Lane Bryant.

I hate to put too much weight in pop psychology (therapist though I may be), but I must admit that there’s something about that imaginary century line that seems to hold power over me. I’ve felt its spectre hovering around me in the past few weeks as I achieve one goal after another and zero in on that zero-zero point. And, I’m feeling good in general — but note that I did take a dangerous, exploratory mission into the world of energy bars last week, and accomplished very little exercise in the month of July.

This morning, when I did my mid-week progress weigh in, I was startled to find myself at the “300 plus single digit” gate. One thing is certain: if there was ever a time to stare down the troll that guards my 300-pound bridge, it is now.

Call it self-convincing, but I think it’s time to make out a list of reasons why I will be able to, with neither overt trauma nor ostentatious fanfare, cross the 300-pound mark as quietly as I crossed the 320-pound mark, or the 310-pound mark.

Why it will be different this time:

• I’ve completed 4 years of intense and amazing psychotherapy, during which I dismantled my ineffective defenses, hacked away at the roots of my Binge Eating Disorder, and placed the shards of it under such a microscopic scrutiny that even Madame Curie would approve. I am calm now, and solid in myself. I can handle both the fear of failure and the discomfort of success without eating myself into a Cadbury Egg Stupor.

• Previously, I have attacked new health regimens with the ire and focus of a bull on a red cape. This time, I have been calm, permissive, and utterly satisfied with a slow and steady progress. I simply try my best to make good choices most of the time. There is no reason to believe that I will burn out on this new lifestyle any time soon, and certainly not just because I achieved my original goal, no matter how unattainable I believed it would be at the time.

• I am learning more about my particular body, and am better able to care for and nourish it than ever before. Case in point: chocolate is not only a sweet which must be enjoyed in moderation, it also seems to be the catalyst for my most debilitating migraines. The fact that I have the capability to turn down chocolate because of what it might do to me is a personal strength that I’m still getting used to. Similarly, I now know that other simple things — such as avoiding potatoes — will keep my blood pressure more level and provide me with better energy reserves. Rice, on the other hand, seems to have very little effect on my own personal blood sugar. This kind of self-awareness and understanding will certainly serve me well past 300.

• And while we’re at it, let’s talk about that boyfriend stuff. Yes, we’ve faced the realities of our respective ambitions and futures and broken up. Yes, it’s difficult to pick up those pieces and move on. Yes, I miss him (and the magic of committed relationship) every single day. But, among the gifts I received from that relationship is the absolute knowledge that I am not unloveable as I had always feared. In fact, I’m both loveable and capable of love. I know that loving yourself is supposed to be enough. Unfortunately for me, it only took me so far. And, certainly, I hope to have the opportunity to test out this theory again before I die, but experiencing it just this once has put to rest some of my most ravenous fears and insatiable needs.

I am okay, and I will continue to be okay even when I begin inhabiting a body that is completely and utterly new to me.

1. Take a moment to smile with me, since I subconsciously typed 3000 before correcting my error. [↩]