The Sassy Pear

Finding my way through my forties

Deserving — July 18, 2013


Hey Kids!! How’s it going? 

I haven’t blogged in a while because I’m going through a bit of weight loss schizophrenia lately and I’m not sure which direction I’m going or where I’ll end up. 

For the first part of the summer I did really well and felt like I had a handle on things. Work outs and nutrition were coming together nicely and all was well with the world. For the last 2-3 weeks however, I’ve felt off-keel and have been having trouble getting enough traction to move forward. In the middle of June, I weighed 189.8 and on Monday I weighed 191.4 – I have danced along the edge of these two decades for so long I’m pretty sure there are permanent footprints on the border. 

When I weighed in on Monday and saw that I was, once again, above 191, I had a meltdown. Thankfully my husband sensed my mood (after I bit his head off, because he’s intuitive like that) and we had a good talk that morning and then again later that night about what was bothering me. I told him that I was frustrated with how little wiggle room my body gives me – I have to fight so hard for even the smallest loss – and that it just seemed like the number on the scale wasn’t going in the direction I wanted it to. At one point in the  conversation I said “maybe I need to just quit worrying about  the number on the scale” and he said a hearty “YES! YOU DO!”. He said I worry too much about that number and it doesn’t help me at all. He knows that I want to get down to 140 or heck, even 150, but he very kindly said “you don’t have to weigh 140 to be sexy, honey”. He truly does not care what I weigh – he only cares that I’m taking care of myself and he wishes I would be kinder to myself and give myself a break. 

Oh how I wish those same things for myself!! 

In discussing all this with a friend yesterday, I realized that I put off a lot of things until Future Thin Me can enjoy them. Here’s part of what I emailed to Fabulous Friend yesterday:

I think that I tend to live for the future. I keep looking toward the future when I’m thin and thinking “okay when I’m thin, then I can xyz.” Xyz = get a massage, get a mani/pedi, go shopping, start running again, buy a cute nightgown, go to yoga again, etc etc etc. I’ve been putting off a lot of things that I would like to do because I think I’ll do those things when I’m thin, but dammit why am I waiting? It’s almost like I’m punishing myself by holding out on the things I really like to do until I deserve them again (i.e. lose weight). I don’t want to do that anymore, I want to do those things now and I need to learn and believe that I do deserve them EVEN AT THIS WEIGHT. 

So in order to help move myself in a forward direction with this, I’m going to limit my weigh ins to once a month. I need a break from the scale. I need to live as if I believe I am not flawed at this weight. My worth as a wife, a friend, a mom, a HUMAN BEING, is not tied to a number on the scale or a size on a tag. I’m trying to wrap my brain around this and really believe it, but I think it’s going to take time. 

I did however, decide yesterday to go shopping for things that FIT. I walked out with 4 new tops that came from (gasp!) the Plus Size department because even though I’m right between the edges of regular and plus sizes, the particular tops I tried on fit better in plus size. They are super cute, super comfortable and make me feel just a teensy bit sassy (I’d take pics and show you, but my stupid stupid stupid obsolete and ancient dumbphone’s camera is messing up – I really need to jump into 2009 and get a smartphone, I know). So that’s my way of dipping my toe into the waters of Self Acceptance. It’s a small step, but hey I’ll take it. 

So my focus for the rest of the summer will be to Accept That I Am Not Flawed At This Weight. That’s my late summer project. What’s weird is that I have plenty of people (okay, there’s actually 4 people, but still) telling me that I am fantastic, but for some reason I’ve chosen not to believe it. I’d like to believe it. I’m going to work on believing it because I don’t think these people would say it if they didn’t mean it, right? 

I’m pretty sure I’ve headed down this path before, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this honest or clear with myself. I mean, I’m slowly getting it – just how messed up my thinking is in relation to my weight, and I’m taking steps to counteract the effects of that. 

So can you see why I’m feeling a bit o’ schizo lately? I do well, then I don’t do well, then I do well-er (I made up a word!) and then I have a meltdown. Maybe one day when I’m a grown up, all of this will make sense. But I doubt it. 



The unavoidable truth — June 8, 2012

The unavoidable truth


Yesterday I saw a picture of the Zumbathon that I just did Saturday and I looked for myself in the background.

I found myself.


Guys, I was honestly shocked when I saw it. I mean, I know I’m overweight. I know I need to lose weight. What I did not know apparently, is that I. AM. F A T.

In the past, when the BMI charts listed me as obese according to my height and weight, I just sort of nodded and said “uh huh” and went on my merry way, not really giving it much thought. But seeing that unposed, unaware-of-the-camera picture allowed the scales to fall from my eyes and now I know what everyone else sees: I am OH BEEEEEESSSSSE.

And lest you think it was just a ‘bad’ picture (it wasn’t – the other folks in the picture looked normal), more proof was handed to me last night: Zumba was held in a different location – a dance studio. Do you know what dance studios have? They have MIRRORS.  A whole entire wall of mirrors, which we faced while we danced. Of course I nestled myself in the very back row, but I still had a clear shot of myself in the mirror. Now, in my head, when I go to Zumba, I’m like JLo bustin’ a move over there. I can work it, I really can (in my head, mind you). However, watching myself in that mirror was like watching someone’s grandma trying to do hip hop or something equally horrible and humiliating. And about halfway through the class, I came to the sad realization that I was most definitely the biggest girl in the room. There were a couple of women who came close, but I am certain I was the heaviest one there. Out of about 50 people, I was the big girl in the room. Not my best day.

Did this awareness inspire me and make me recommit to a new healthier way of life? Oh hell no. It sent me into a sadness and resignation the likes of which I have not seen in quite some time. I was sad, sad, sad for the rest of the night. Sad for all the years I’ve wasted being heavy. Sad for my husband who has the fat wife. Sad for my kids who have the fat mom. Just plain ole sad.

But I am grateful for this realization because now there is no more kidding myself. I can’t be in denial anymore. And here’s a handy tip – when you pray to God to show you how you REALLY look, he’ll answer that prayer. In a big way. Make sure you really want to know something before you ask God to tell you.

Like I said, I am thankful for this even in my sorrow. I don’t want to live my life avoiding the obvious anymore, but I’m not sure know where to go from here. I’m exercising 4-5 days a week now and I don’t feel like I’m eating too much, so I don’t know what else to do. I can’t overthink it right now. I’m still kind of reeling and more than anything, I just feel numb.

And no, I am not going to post that picture. You all know I’m pretty much an open book here at this blog, but I just can’t show you the picture. Not yet. Maybe some day after I’ve lost 60 pounds I’ll pull it out and show everyone, but for now, it stays hidden away.

I’m not crushed by this, just sad and disappointed that I let myself get this way and a little overwhelmed at how much work and how long it’s going to take to undo it all. I have such a long road ahead of me.

Blissfully ignorant of the number — February 4, 2008

Blissfully ignorant of the number

My scale has been dead for a couple of weeks now and I truth be told, I really don’t have any desire to replace it. After it died, my husband mentioned how we should just get a new one. I nodded my head, “yeah sure honey” and went on my merry way. Yesterday I found the dead button battery placed strategically on the counter next to my makeup bag – his not so subtle way of *reminding* me that the scale is still dead. He is big on the scale because he just recently lost ten pounds by doing nothing other than thinking about it ( I hate him), so he likes to jump on the scale and congratulate himself on his big achievement. I, on the other hand, am quite happy with out the number beast. I’m not worrying about what the current number is and if I get curious, I whip out the handy dandy tape measure and wrap it around my waist. According to the fabric number goddess, I have lost ½ an inch in the last couple of weeks, so I am pleased. And really, the scale doesn’t usually tell me anything that I don’t already know. I can feel when I am up or when I am down in pounds, so the scale is only a confirmation of what I know.
I am a little afraid that if I don’t replace the scale, I might just get a little too comfy not knowing the numbers. I am really big into the *ignorance is bliss* thing, and if I don’t keep a handle on things, I could get just plain BIG. I will probably replace it eventually, but I’m in no hurry.

How dependant are you all on your scales?

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