#WhatsBeautiful: Letting Go of 21 Years of Weight Loss
Posted May 07 2013 12:20am
You know those moments when you feel something deep down in your gut that something big is about to happen?
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve had that feeling, and the moment I received the email that I was chosen to join some other amazing female FitFluential ambassadors and be a part of the current Under Armour What’s Beautiful Campaign , I knew. I just knew. BIG.
On top of that “big” feeling, I’ve had this nagging “something’s got to change” feeling. Put both of those feelings together and what do you get?
I started feeling self conscious at the innocent age of 7, when my weight began to creep up. It was at a time when my parents were separated and I lived with my grandfather and my beautiful, Polish, dessert-loving grandmother . I’m not sure I remember how the self-consciousness started, but I know that it’s been with me ever since. It wasn’t until I was about 10 years old that the scale began to take the reigns on how I defined myself.
I’ve written several posts about my weight loss journey, not wanting to experience the moment of “it’s now or never” , the frustrations I’ve had, my fight with the scale and the mirror, and the acceptance of my body. The only problem is that despite the successes I’ve had along the way, I’ve held on to the notion that my weight – the number on a battery-operated slab of plastic and metal – defined my success.
A stupid number.
A number that looms over my head, despite the victories I’ve experienced over the past 3 years.
I’ve robbed myself of the true feeling of pride in my achievements over a stupid number.
It’s hard to admit that to you, and it may even be harder to admit that to myself.
So when I boo-hooed about not losing weight the other night and heard my husband’s nonchalant “then stop trying” response, some sort of mental switch was flipped and I got the immediate feeling that something may just be happening for me.
Then I got the Under Armour email from FitFluential.
Perfect timing. My opportunity.
I don’t want *this* anymore, so I chose my goal and I want to scream it here, loud and clear:
It took me a little while after setting that goal to feel the emotion of it, and my husband, my new running partner, my rock, was the first to hear it.
I’m tired of stepping on the scale and using it as a way to label myself.
I’m tired of forgetting that I have a great pair of legs, a perky rear-end, muscular calves, strong lungs, and a powerful will.
I’m tired of focusing on one not-so-perfect area of my body.
I’m tired of seeing myself in the mirror and feeling unsatisfied.
I’m tired of knowing that I’ve lived 14 years of my life trying to “lose weight”.
That’s a long time. It’s too long.
But how do I go from stepping on the scale at least once a week for the past 21 years to letting it go? It’s like an addiction.
Amazingly, my husband hid the scale from me before I could even tell him my goal. He flipped the switch that set my journey in motion and he hid from me the one thing slowly tearing me apart.
I’m truly blessed.
So for now, as I attack this Under Armour’s movement to redefine the female athlete , I will not step on the scale for the duration of the campaign.
This campaign runs about the same length of time as my training for Chicago in July, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. #IWILL cross-train like a beast. #IWILL find strength and life within my legs. #IWILL fuel my body with nutritious food, not because I want to but because I must. #IWILL cross that finish line knowing I’ve not only conquered 13.1, but that I’ve also kicked my addiction to losing weight. That I’ve let go of the toxicity that has ruled me for more than half of my life.
In July, I’d like to answer the following question:
What happens when you stop trying to lose weight and you start celebrating your strength?
QOTD: Do you have a goal that you’d really like to meet? If so, have you signed up to conquer it with Under Armour?
This post is sponsored by Under Armour & FitFluential; however, all opinions and experiences are my own. I am not being compensated for this post.