Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind.
Always.– A Quote I’m Sure We’ve All Seen on Instagram
I remember the day I looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How did I let THIS happen after all my years of trying to prevent this exact thing? I don’t even remember ever putting on weight, even though I would religiously weigh myself every day. All I remember was seeing 135 lbs on December 5th 2015. Then within a year, maybe less, I saw the numbers 1-5-6. I thought, “ok, this isn’t too bad. I can fix this.” But instead of getting better, it got worse. The next time I recall stepping on the scale I was 172 pounds. I was still gaining weight and quick. I don’t even remember ever eating during this time. I’ve always gone to the gym and kept track of all of my calories. How is this happening to me? How do I get rid of it fast? But instead of getting better it got worse. My highest weight. Ever. The last number I saw on the scale I used to be so embarrassed of: 186 lbs. My worst fear. I was so close to 200 pounds. I remember after seeing that number and thinking I was going to die. I wanted to die. I hated know I was only 4 pounds away from 190. Then only a mere 10 pounds away from 200.
Something needed to change. Something needed to change now.
So what did I do? I went into hiding, duh. How could I let anybody see me like this? I was so ashamed of what I let myself do. I was afraid to leave my house in fear that someone I might not want to see me might be at the same place I am. (And “they” did. Of course, the only person in the world I never wanted to see me like this ended up at the same gym I purposely drove out of my way to just to avoid this specific incident happening at all costs.) So after that horrific experience, I stayed at my grandparent’s house 45 miles away from my home town for three months. The whole summer of 2017 I tried to go MIA. The only place you could find me was hanging out with my grandparent’s or the only gym I felt safe at because I knew I wouldn’t be running into anyone again.
Along with living at the gym, I also started a very, very strict ketogenic diet. The ketogenic diet is a very low-carb, high-fat diet that shares many similarities with the Atkins and low-carb diets. It involves drastically reducing carbohydrate intake and replacing it with fat. This reduction in carbs puts your body into a metabolic state called ketosis. This was really easy to do at the time because my sister also stayed at my grandparent’s most days and nights since it was a shorter commute to her college. She was the one who originally showed me the keto diet and was also on it at the time (thank god), so we got to do it together and really keep each other on track.
After three months of bacon grease and cheese running through my veins, I had lost a significant amount of weight. I went from 186 to 163 pounds and was feeling soo much better about myself. I could finally post pictures of myself again and make visits back home to my parent’s house. I would even hit up the local bars every once in a while.
Eventually, in 2018 I hit 150 pounds and felt like I could go back to a normal life again. I didn’t feel like I had to hide myself anymore. I was feeling great, or at least looking back I think I was. And up until recently I have been in the 150’s a whole year. I finally just broke out of the 150’s again and reached 145 lbs yesterday (yes, I gave in and weighed myself. You can check my previous post for my update and reasoning). But, if I weigh even less right now than I did then, why don’t I feel any better this time?
This really got me thinking and it made me come to a really scary thought..
What if I look back at pictures of myself 10 years from now.. 20 years from now.. 60 years from now and realize I have never been happy with the way I look? Or what if I look back and think of how much time I spent hating myself and always trying to work on myself, stressing over food and making the gym a top priority 5 times a week when really I had been ok that whole time? It reminds me of the feeling when you look back at old pictures of yourself when you were younger and you can remember every bad thing you ever thought about yourself, but when you see yourself in the photos from “back then” you realize you were absolutely fine just the way you were and wish you could go back to that and just be happy and take back all the horrible things you used say to yourself and do to yourself and just try to be at least a little nicer to yourself.
There’s a saying I heard recently on Tori DeSimone’s podcast “Manifest with Tori DeSimone”, that goes something like “If you wouldn’t say it to a friend, don’t say it to yourself.” Meaning if you heard someone saying something negative or doing something harmful to your best friend you would defend them and make it stop. So why don’t we do that for ourselves?
I know I am still working on myself and always will be, but from now on I am going to make it a point to be nicer to myself and treat my body better. I need to enjoy life right now and not always be thinking about how much better it will once I lose xxx amount of pounds. I will not measure my life in calories, or numbers or pant sizes anymore, but in smiles and memories made with the people I love.