Reflections

Stumbling into the bathroom early one morning I was caught quite by surprise. Leaning against the sink and staring into the mirror I viewed a shocking reflection. Turning my head one way and then back, I felt my stomach lurch. It couldn’t be me reflected in the mirror; this had to be a dream, a nightmare even. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stare back into the vision before me and then quickly retreat.

It amazes me still to this day the horror of what I saw. I chose to do the most natural thing in the world for me; ignore it. Ha! Ignoring the problem is not the answer, but I tried to. I pushed it out of my head, thinking much like Scarlett, “Tomorrow is another day.”

As much as I would like to say this was easy, it wasn’t. It would be the start of why I am writing today on an issue that has been in my life since I was ten years old. What I saw in the mirror and what would follow in the days, weeks and months ahead would be instrumental in turning my focus on my health.

Reflections are a hard thing to ignore, especially for a woman. We stare at our reflections every single day as we put on make-up, brush our hair and teeth. We become so use to what we see; it can be easy to not really pay attention. This particular morning was the beginning of my reality, of my waking up.

Startled by my view of myself in the mirror was soon followed up with the realization that my face and neck were changing, that my “fat clothes” had shrunk and that my neck now had given birth to three chins. Not a very pretty thought or picture. Several photos taken in March and April soon had me shocked into action.

I was appalled by a photo taken of me on Easter. I knew I had gained weight ever since I went off a medication for migraines, but I took no action. I just kept thinking I had a handle on it. Those were my thoughts until my husband took a photo of the kids at Easter playing a musical game and of me reclining on the sofa watching them. My very first thought when I saw the photo of me with enough chins to make the Three Little Piggy’s green with envy, was to delete it and delete it quickly. My hand hovered over the delete button on the camera, finger shaking and tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I hesitated and then decided to leave the photo on my computer.

How did I get here? When did I gain this much weight? I mean, really, do I really eat that much? Questions many dieters for life ask themselves. We have all sorts of tricks up our sleeves to camouflage our abundant bellies and thighs, but the face; oh the face is so hard to hide. I had nowhere to run, no one to blame and no way I would be able to put a bag over my head for the rest of my life.

There was no denying the photo, for not just one was taken but several, all giving the same likeness. I decided to do something else that would throw me into shock, denial and finally fear I stepped on the bathroom scale. You know the one, the menacing metal thing we use as decorations in most homes by throwing towels, magazines or shoes upon. I cleared it off, tentatively stepped on the stark white monster and then just as quickly stepped off. No way! Back on I stepped again, same number stared back at me. Shocked, I felt tears well up again and I quickly stepped off the scale and flew out of the bathroom. Not before making sure that digital nightmare number had eased itself before anyone else knew my secret.

Being fat is one of the worst kept secrets, except for those of us in denial and I am the queen of denial. To make matters worse, my clothes had begun clinging to me in very unflattering ways. My “fat clothes” were tight. I felt totally disappointed in myself and I allowed myself to wallow in the self pity. The number I saw screaming at me was a number higher than I had ever reached before and it truly made me cry.

I reached out to two friends at my church and they shared their own stories. We decided to get together and try a diet we had read about. The support was great, the diet which wasn’t necessarily a diet but an awareness of fullness worked for about three weeks and then commitments and holidays kept us from getting together. The little bit I lost quickly came back. I began to feel hatred and anger at myself.

I had managed in the past many things; I was not a weak willed woman. Yet here I was with a face that was swallowed up in fat and a body that was betraying the truly thin person I was inside. It’s amazing what that reflection one early morning threw me into, not all at once but slowly. I began turning over in my mind what I wanted to do and how I wanted to look for the rest of my life and fat was not in!

My oldest daughter recently embarked on a weight loss journey and looks fantastic. I decided to not look upon my journey as a diet, although in many ways it is, but a new health plan for me. On April 25th I signed up online with Weight Watchers and have been combining both this plan and the other plan. I have turned my journey over to God and stopped fighting myself.

I am on a new path, reflecting on many things in my life, not just food, fat and the view in the mirror, but on my inner being. It’s slow, it is sometimes hard, but oh the revelations have been quite surprising.

I am not sure who is reading me here or if anyone is, I am also unsure of how many will understand or get where I am coming from. I am not sure why I decided to blog about my struggles and soon some successes, but I am in hopes I will find out soon.

In the end, I was and am unhappy with hiding away, hiding behind layers of fat and being uncomfortable in my own skin. Change is never easy, it is hard work. At my age I need to be healthy, I need to feel good about who I am. I am learning to like myself a little more each day, and it is not all about being thin. I will never be the model that stares out from the magazine stands, I will never be as thin as I would like. I am after all a woman in her fifties. I am starting to like the new reflection I see in the mirror, a little older, a little wiser and a little thinner. I do know one thing…I am ready to begin to live.

Teresa Gale