Learning how to forgive myself...

Six years ago in August of 2006 I walked into a Weight Watchers meeting for like the umpteenth time since graduating college.

 I went alone.

 I told no one.

 I sat quietly through the meeting tugging at my shirt, uncomfortable in my own skin.

 I sat alone with the leader at the end of the meeting relearning the program, again.

Two weeks before I had no idea I would be doing this.    After spending a week at the beach on vacation with the coach and the athlete and princess, who at the time was only two years old,  I came home and knew something had to change.  I had spent the entire week being forced out of my comfort zone.

You see,  a toddler at the beach doesn't mean sitting and sunbathing and simply staying put.  It means endless walks up and down the long beach in a bathing suit past hundreds and hundreds of people.  And when you are over weight and feeling very vulnerable and exposed in a suit, it's really the last thing you want to do.

But I sucked it up and I did it, day after day.  My saving grace and something I kept telling myself over and over as we trekked up and down the beach was, at least we are far from home and you don't know a single soul out here.

 Pathetic really.  I was so down and beat myself up.  I felt cheated that I couldn't enjoy a wonderful time with my young and curious little girl because once again, my weight was getting in the way.

Those feelings are what made me walk into that meeting room two weeks later.  I felt I had hit rock bottom.

I walked out of those doors with a new sense of determination.  I felt empowered.  I just knew that this time it was going to be different.  This time I was going to reach my goal.  This time I was not going to quit.

I lost 47 pounds that year.  By the time summer rolled around I was the healthiest I had ever been in my life and weighed less than I did when I was in college.  I had followed Weight Watchers to a T.  I would go as far as to call myself a Weight Watcher Psycho, there was not a single week in 8 months that I had a gain on the scale.  The weight came off so easily.  And, don't get me wrong, I worked my ass off at it.  I was walking 3 miles, 5 days a week with the princess in her stroller.  I prepared healthy meals for dinner and even made homemade snacks for the entire family.  (I was also working part time only 2 days a week, which made this all posssible.) 


I swore that I would never go back to being the way I was before.  I told everyone that this was finally the time for me.  This time it would stick.

Fast forward from there six years.  In that time period we bought our first house, I dealt with the grief of losing my grand father so rapidly and unexpectedly from stomach cancer.  I went from working as a part time nanny to opening my own daycare business and working 11 hour days, Monday through Friday.  My children continued to grow up and their extracurricular lives exploded.

Me time became non existent.  I sacrificed myself for the needs of my husband and children.  I put all the time I had into the daycare and running a successful business and being the best wife and mother I could.  Nights I was needed for homework and projects, and after that housework.  On weekends sporting events, and more housework.  I had no time for me anymore.

The results of that have been drastic. And here I sit six years later, now 35 years old,  and I'm back at  a place I swore never to come back to ever again.

I came to the realization several months ago that life is too short to live with regrets.  Sitting wallowing in the past was doing me absolutely no good.  I couldn't change the past, but I could make changes now.   Beating myself up and punishing myself was keeping me on a path I didn't want to be on.  It was keeping me frozen and preventing me from starting over.

I have forgiven myself.  I have moved on.  I am at peace with myself for the first time in a long time.  Instead of saying that I am "trying" to get healthy, I have re-framed my thinking to, I "am living" a healthy lifestyle.

I don't need to wait until I reach my health goals to stop saying trying and switch to living a healthy life.

Am  I where I want to be in terms of physical abilities or weight?

No, not yet.  But I am seeing results every single week on the scale, and in what I am physically capable of doing.  I have mellowed out a little in these past six years.  I am no longer the Weight Watcher Pyscho!  Now I'm  a much older, wiser wife and a mom who really appreciates the life she has been given and wants to make the most out of every day.  The benefits of forgiveness are amazing.

I'm linking up today with Shell's Pour Your Heart Out, over at Things I Can't Say.