The Emotional Weight of Weight Loss (or "Keep Calm and Transform On")

Me? In a frilly pink prom dress? YES!
How do you see yourself?
photo by Christine Rose Elle

Before I start, please "see" that I am holding both of my hands over my heart in gratitude to all of you for your support and encouragement of the past few posts I've written. Truthfully, my fear of putting myself out there so vulnerably nearly prevented me from sharing my story - and now it seems SO SILLY that I may not have written about my weight loss for fear that "no one" would understand it. 

As it turns out, many of you are right there with me in the trenches, trying to decide whether or not it's "time" to make thoughtful changes in your life, and the changes range from making healthier food choices to creating more meaningful relationships and discovering your true passions in work and life.  And so, as I've often learned and re-learned in my 41 years, we are never alone in our struggles. It only takes one person piping up to cause a ripple effect (which is why we must spread joy and inspiration, not negativity... but I digress; that's a topic for another day.)

Today, I want to address the emotional weight of weight loss, but you could substitute any sort of major transformation for "weight loss": the achievement of a major goal, a promotion, marriage, getting pregnant or having a baby, getting a fabulous new job opportunity, the beginning or ending of a relationship, moving to a new place, etc. The transformation does not need to be physical or outwardly dramatic; as someone mentioned at my yoga retreat, sometimes the greatest changes are not brought about dramatically (as with the death of a loved one), but occur slowly, quietly, and over a long period of time. For simplicity's sake, though, I will use my own weight loss as the springboard, but I encourage you to think about your own journey and the shifts you've experienced.

When I decided to start Weight Watchers, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't tell Raf, arguably my greatest cheerleader EVER, for at least a day. I also didn't tell my kids for a few weeks (and that wasn't my desire because I didn't want my "food hang-ups" to affect them negatively; instead, they noticed I was eating differently and I had to be honest with them about wanting to make better choices for my health). 

Why didn't I share my new lifestyle right away? For one thing, I didn't know if it would work. I didn't want anyone to look at me and ask about it, judge my food choices, tsk-tsk if I didn't lose weight. I didn't want to feel an "I told you so" coming on. (Of course, that was in my head... it's all in my head).

Also, I have to be honest: I was ASHAMED. As I mentioned in my first post about weight loss, I had already seen a nutritionist, talked to my doctor, joined gyms and fitness classes, and adopted a mostly vegetarian lifestyle (that focused on fruits and veggies, trying very hard not to fall into the "muffin-tarian" trap, in which non-meat-eaters rely upon baked goods and starches rather than "real" foods). I thought I knew what I had to do and yet... I was still "fat." (And, to be clear, by "fat," I mean my BMI number indicated I was "obese" for my height. Oh yeah, you read that right. Humbling, isn't it?) 

I kept beating myself up - I"m a smart woman. Why can't I do it on my own? I was shoulding all over myself: I should eat less, I should exercise more, I should be able to do this on my own... 

Well, my little Bodhisattva warriors, my true inner voice - the wise one, the nurturing one - was lost in the negative self-talk. Only now can I see that my body was holding onto - literally gripping within its extra pounds - the weight of old habits and stories. And they weren't TRUE. I had made them up, based on years of observations of those around me and fears and insecurities. It was so much easier to be unconscious,  to just go along with what I'd always done, to not rock the boat, to not stand up for my own life and health.

Of course it's easier! It's unconscious! 

I didn't have to think about anything. I let all those fears and insecurities decide for me. And those fears liked to eat chocolate cake. The insecurities didn't feel "good enough" for pricey, fresh, organic food. After long days with kids, I felt I "deserved" wine/chocolate/ice cream/chips/a big meal/an extra helping... 

*shaking my head*

No, what I DESERVED was a healthy, happy life free from fear and insecurity and ego-attachment to food.

(Can I please get an "amen"?)

Okay, so once I realized this basic desire - to take awesome care of myself - my WW journey really kicked up into high gear. I ate less, but what I ate *had* to be a better quality - it had to really *earn* my approval (meaning, if I was only going to treat myself to a tiny piece of chocolate, for example, it had to be the very best quality I could get, or else I'd skip it and save my WW points or calories). I started to feel better. I began to see success at the scale. I had to buy new clothes. 

I didn't want to talk to anyone (besides Raf, my WW group and my very closest friends) about it - it felt so private to me, this transformation I was undergoing - and the cool weather allowed me to cover up with bulky clothes and sweaters. But my face was thinner (even though I tried to cover that up with bangs and long hair, too) and my clothes began to hang on me. The more layers I lost on the outside, the more I felt myself building up a wall of self-esteem and self-worth on the inside.

So I was doing great on the inside... And then...

After losing about 20 pounds, people began to notice. And that's when the mind-tripping began. 

O.P.P. - Other People's Poop

Lovely, secure people say things like, "Wow, you look amazing. How do you feel? How did you do it? Yay you!" 

But some people can't let go of their own poop. Why people feel a need to impart their own "expertise" on others who clearly aren't asking for it, I don't know, but somehow my very personal transformation seemed to invite others to comment. The  most annoying comment I heard, over and over, was, "YOU LOST WEIGHT!" It was barked, like an accusation. Where was I supposed to go with that? Around this time, I also heard this one: "Are ya sick?" It came out of nowhere and the only thing I could manage to utter was, "No, I'm not, thanks."

Once I shared that I was on WW or that I'd changed my diet (because people have a very hard time understanding that I'd changed EVERYTHING - it was a lifestyle change, not a diet), even well-meaning friends and acquaintances would try to tempt me with foods I didn't want to eat or say, "But it's got flaxseed/peanut butter/yogurt/low-fat cheese/fat-free dressing/etc... It's healthy!" Some wouldn't take "no, thanks" for an answer or would take a moment to tell me about their past diet failures. "Oh, well!" they'd say and take a forkful of food, shrugging. 

Another strange comment is "You've got to stop losing weight! You'll get too skinny/wither away/your skin will sag!" Ugh. This one is tough. It's a rude comment disguised as a "compliment." Listen, you know your body. You will feel GOOD as you reach your health goals. If you exercise while you lose weight healthfully, your skin will not sag (I am living proof; and my arms look like Madonna's - ha ha!). This "too skinny" comment also implies that you can't stop yourself or that your body won't tell you what it needs or that you won't listen to it.

OPP began to overwhelm me. I couldn't hold space for their accusing words or angry energy. I felt like a sponge for all their failed expectations. It made me want to hibernate or continue hiding under big clothes or disown all the awesomeness I'd worked so hard to cultivate.

But I was only a little way into my journey - at that point, I still had at least 15 to 20 pounds that I wanted to lose. I couldn't stop working toward my goal - I felt sooo good on the inside! I had to learn how to deal with OPP or risk letting OPP derail my success.

More than anything, OPP is needless noise. Your own thoughts are hard enough to control and when you add in these crazy "opinions" from others, well, it's just plain nuts. Not only that, these "well-meaning" folks and their "helpful" comments might serve to make you doubt yourself. 

OPP tried to limit me.... But I was proving to myself that I had no limits. I could do anything, even take on my long-held beliefs about how I couldn't lose weight. 

And so, I took some deep breaths, talked to Raf and my best friends, and learned a few new things. In no particular order, here are a few things I've learned from my weight loss. Not all of them deal with OPP, but they may help you protect your own awesomeness during a time of heavy transformation.

A List of Things I've Learned

1 - People want you to succeed. No matter how awkward their comments may be, people love a success story because they want to see themselves in that light. If the comments are borderline mean, it is NOT personal. It just means they are not seeing YOU in all your awesomeness; instead, they are holding up a mirror to their own shadows and seeing failure. I have found that meeting these comments with compassion is the best remedy; if the person seems interested, I will tell her about WW and Kris Carr and plant-based eating.  If not, I smile and allow myself a graceful retreat.

2 - A support system is invaluable. You need at least one person in your corner when you embark upon a big change, to talk you off a ledge and cheer you on and share your successes. Once, when I ordered take-out and Raf went to pick it up, he saw a big order of french fries in my bag - yes, I'd ordered them as a "treat" without telling him - and he sent them back. I whined when he got home, but truthfully I appreciated his support; after all, he didn't know I ordered them and knew I didn't really want them. He had my back, even when I didn't. This is an area where WW excels - the meetings are a sanctuary of support and encouragement.

3 - Our society has an absurd, almost pornographic obsession with food. Don't believe me? Check out ads for fast food joints and really listen to the comments made on the Food Network (close your eyes for the full effect). It's all around us, as much as or even more than sexualized images of women in the media. Some foods are described as "better than sex" or "death by chocolate," etc. The old McDonald's motto of "You deserve a break today" comes to mind - but I doubt you really want a supersized dose of fat and sodium when you've had a hard day. And even the wonderful offerings at "artisanal" restaurants, butcher shops, food trucks, etc. don't support our actual hunger for a good life. I don't want to be a buzzkill Betty, but I can't buy into the hype anymore. I'd rather be "safe" and eat what I know will support my success. Often, that means eating at home, and I know it's not "fun," but you know what is? Waking up feeling GOOD, not bloated or puffy or with a sugar hangover. Take that, Ronald McD.

4 - The idea of deprivation is a fear of lack. When I thought about losing weight, I thought I'd have to "give up" all the foods I loved. WW definitely tells you NOT to give up what you love and I'd agree: if you deprive yourself, you will resent it. But at the beginning, I found myself obsessing over various foods - birthday cake, for one - and eventually I came to a big realization: I've had 41 years of eating birthday cake. I know what it tastes like. I really don't need to try it again to "remember" the taste. If I need a bite, I'll take one, but if I don't, I know it will be there again when I want it. It's not going anywhere.

5 - It's okay to say "no" to trigger foods and situations and start new habits. I had to train myself to recognize old habits flaring up and it has saved me. I sometimes decline invitations to dinner or I'll invite people over to my house so I can be in control of my food (and maybe expose them to a new way of eating). I carry snacks with me EVERYWHERE. I eat before I go out, so I'm not starving and looking at a menu of yummy food. I exercise my feelings (rather than eat them). I drink water instead of cocktails when I go out. I don't rely upon traditional foods to help me feel a holiday experience. I bring a "safe" dish to potlucks. I don't succumb to the peer pressure of eating or drinking; it doesn't support my success.

6 - We each have a remarkable body intelligence. Once you start eating to live (and not living to eat), your tastebuds will blossom and your stomach will stop you from eating recklessly. You'll be in control of your hunger, not the other way around. And that's real power, being in control of your life.

7 - You can start NOW. I have heard so many people say, "Well, I know I ought to watch what I eat, but I'm too busy/stressed/upset/etc. I'll start after the holidays/summer vacation/wedding/stressful event/etc." I have compassion for this remark, but the thing is: you eat every few hours, every day. There are hundreds of food choices to make each week, hundreds of opportunities to eat well. Saying that your health and your best life can wait is allowing yourself to go back to sleep rather than wake up to the possibility of a NEW LIFE, of NEW CHOICES, of being your BEST SELF!! Once WW told me what to do, I was on fire to do it. I couldn't wait to see progress and I jumped in head first. Changing your life isn't a toe-in-the-water kind of thing. It is a flame that engulfs you and makes you shine brighter. I was like, "Yes! Sign me up!"

And that's what I want for you: to shine bright like a bonfire of passionate living. 

Transformation isn't easy, but it is WORTH THE EFFORT!

Now tell me, how do you see yourself?

My Weight Loss Story

Seriously, if I can do this, so can you.

This may be a long post and I may break it up into a few posts, but I feel like it's long overdue. I've been uncomfortable talking about my weight loss, but I realize that not putting myself out there vulnerably may inhibit my ability to truly connect with other people who can benefit from my journey. And so, in service to anyone who may be suffering from a severe case of letting her/his thoughts dictate what's going on with her/his body, I'm ready to talk about it.

There are lots of possible titles for this post. I've tossed around a bunch of them:

Mindfulness over Matter

I'm Only Human... and I Did It

What Losing Weight Means for Your Brain

My Thoughts Liked Me Better When I Was Fat

... and on and on...

But let's start from where I am now. I lost some weight last year. Okay, I lost a lot of weight last year. For most of my adult life, I'd hovered on the larger side of what I thought was "normal." And so, through losing weight, I went from thinking -- truly believing! -- I was one thing... to discovering that I'm something else entirely. I'll get to that in a bit, but first things first. We all love statistics, so here are mine:

At age 41, in a span of about 8 months, I lost 40+ pounds. I went from 172 pounds to 130. For years, I've worn a fairly comfortable size 12/14 and now I'm a solid size 6 (and that's all the time, PMS or not).

What changed?

BEFORE: June 2012

The short answer is I joined Weight Watchers. But that is the tip of the iceberg. If you want to know the truth, here it is:

I changed. My idea of my self changed. And then my body started changing.

More often than not, when I think about the first step of any journey, Mary Oliver pops into my head. The first line from her poem "The Journey" is One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began...

With regards to my weight loss, that day was June 29, 2012.

Raf and I had gone to an eco-surfing event in San Diego without the kids, a fairly small gathering of artists and environmentalists and surfers. Because we'd already begun our quest for a more organic, clean-eating, green-smoothie lifestyle (thanks to Kris Carr's "Crazy Sexy Diet" book, which is so not a diet book but a lifestyle change book), I was thrilled by the raw vegan menu and the feeling that we were among like-minded souls. But when I looked at the picture above, I wondered, "Who's that lady standing with Raf?" 

My physical image didn't match the spirit inside of me, the curious soul who was striving to eat a more plant-based diet, drank green smoothies every morning, worked out at Bar Method 3 to 5 times a week, walked the dog every single morning, believed in the old maxim "everything in moderation"...

Clearly, there was a major disconnect and I didn't know what it might be. I'd gone to a fabulous nutritionist in my early 30s but even then I never felt entirely comfortable in my body. I was never "thin." I was always heavier than my friends. I blamed it it on a gluten sensitivity, an intolerance for sugar, a lactose "thing," genetics, big bones, being petite, having three young kids, too much volunteering at the school, not enough time for "me," approaching middle age, blah blah blah (I'm making myself bored even writing my excuses). 

You get the picture. I didn't know how to help myself any more. So I examined what I did know: my mother-in-law had just joined Weight Watchers. I had noticed an immediate change in her physical appearance and, although I had never been an advocate for WW (their old programs seemed nutritionally outdated), I needed something to help me change. I found myself at a crossroad and I thought, I can either keep doing what I'm doing... which isn't working... Or try something different.

It was worth a shot. Time would pass regardless of what I did with it.

So on June 29, the day after the party in San Diego, I found myself at Weight Watchers. I walked in like a petulant child, arms crossed, judging everything and everyone. To the sweet woman behind the counter, I said, "I don't think you can help me because I have a gluten intolerance and I eat mostly vegetarian and vegan meals..." 

Instead, her eyes lit up and she said, "I'm a vegetarian, too! You'll love this plan because you can eat what you want... Here, let's get started!"

I'm a sentimental mush-pot, so I'm sure I cried. A voice inside said, "It's okay, have faith, just try it like an experiment."

And so I did.I put my faith in the fact that, if I tried it and it didn't work, I could choose a new path.

So I continued to eat the way I wanted - more raw, vegan or vegetarian - but increased my veggies and fruits, drank loads more water, continued my Bar Method workouts, added one yoga class a week, really watched my sugar intake (turns out I was fooling myself about "moderation"), and tracked every single thing I ate (which I still do). 

I made a deal with myself just to do the program, go to meetings, and have faith. That's all. 

Eventually, the awesomeness of feeling in control of my food fed on itself. I actually liked food again, rather than just eating to numb boredom or fill space with friends and family. I eliminated a lot of the sugary and processed foods I'd relied upon for years and was able to feel the physical effects of them when I did eat them again - and it caused me to rethink whether or not I had the tolerance for them anymore. I began to realize that this "thing" I'd loathed for years - my own body - was simply a delicate organism that, like a little plant or flower, required proper care and nourishment to thrive.  I realized that I was truly the only person who cared whether or not that body was healthy - because if it wasn't, I was the one who'd have to deal with the consequences.

More than that, I began to feel like I was worth the trouble.  

Like everyone, I had "up" weeks and "down" weeks - and I still do. In fact, after telling my friend Christine about a weak moment, she immediately sent me this note, which I taped to my wall:

Fries are not allowed in the quest for awesomeness. Instead, green shakes please.

Slowly, the relationship I thought I'd had with food began to lose its grip on me. The emotion I'd tied to it began to slip away. The tradition and comfort we associate with food became mere thoughts - seriously, is it the food I craved during holidays, or my family, which is in Texas and Virginia? When I realized I missed THEM and spent time either thinking about happy holiday memories or buying gifts for them or just calling/texting/facebooking, I no longer wanted to eat a big Thanksgiving feast or gorge on Christmas cookies in their honor. I felt what I needed to feel: the love and happiness of my family connections.

(Yes, I did make our traditional Russian tea cakes for cookie parties, etc., and I ate them, but I tracked every bite and put the leftovers in the freezer. I don't believe in deprivation at all, just mindfulness.)

I want to write more about the emotional aspects of losing weight, but I'll work on that in another post. For now, I'll close with another picture. I won't call it an "after" shot because I feel like it sort of captures the "real" me. It's pretty fancy (thanks to my good friend Christine Rose Elle), but I like the look of it. For me, this is the result of mindful weight loss.

Okay, I'm a Muse

(Sometimes I can't find the perfect shot to go with my words, but this one was kind of magical, too.)

Right, so I'm working on a book and I'm nearly through the second draft (don't get too excited because the second draft reads like the first draft should have... but I digress...), but I realized in the midst of writing about magical creatures that perhaps I've missed an important detail in my own life. 

I'm a muse.

Like those mythological sisters who inspired excellence and beauty and art from mortals, I'm on a mission to gently whisper inspiration to those who seem to be sitting on the fence between "reality" and their dreams. I try to tap them with a single finger and, in essence, push them over the fence and into the garden where their dreams can bloom.

These moments are even sweeter when the "mused" person is merely an acquaintance, someone who doesn't know my strengths or absurd desire to inspire. And I had another one yesterday, when author Christine Ashworth, the president of the Los Angeles Romance Writers Association, emailed me to say that a tip I gave her has inspired a change in her diet. (You know how much I love Kris Carr. I just can't keep my mouth shut.)

Christine gave me a shout-out on her blog, and she even spelled my name right (thanks, Christine!).

Inspiration is a funny thing. I can see when a person is ready for it and when (s)he isn't. And I'm not just a junkie for nutrition and green drinks, people. My super awesome friend Kendra - if you don't read her blog, you MUST! - went from telling me she's not a writer (pssshhaw!) to having 500 avid followers on her blog. And you know what? I begged her to start a blog.

And why? Why do I care what other people do? 

I guess that's the muse in me. I like to see the intersection of dreams and action. I like to be the catalyst for change. And I like to sit back and smile as I watch these tiny sparks of inspiration catch fire and become bright, blazing bonfires of creativity.

*sigh*

*smile*

Be crazy, sexy and inspired today. If you're reading this, you're already part of the inspiration revolution!

My (So-Called) Organic Life

I recently read a book that changed my life.  Okay, so the change was about 10 years in the making, but when I read Crazy Sexy Diet by Kris Carr, it was like a lightbulb clicked on.  I bought the book on my Kindle, I was so excited to read it, and I finished it in two days, then ordered the hardcover version to keep in my kitchen.  I'm not saying it was the book itself that changed my life and I'm not even recommending that you read it, unless you are searching for a way to a more organic, veggie-based life.  

More than anything, I think I responded to the way Kris spoke to me in that book.  Like a good girlfriend calling me on my shit.  Saying, "Hey, you know that you are what you eat, but yet you still ignore labels on your food.  You still buy your produce in the grocery store without asking where it's grown or what pesticides and fertilizers are used.  You support big-box retailers blindly.  You eat meat and dairy without wondering about the care of the animals.  You put anti-aging creams on your face and use suncreens and shampoos that contain ingredients that are known to cause cancer.  And now that you know it, what are you gonna do?"

As I mentioned, this choice has been a long time coming.  When Marlowe was a toddler, she had a terrible skin rash, red bumps all over her body.  Her pediatrician said it was probably the laundry detergent, so immediately I changed to a fragrance-free option.  But that didn't seem like enough, so I sought out greener alternatives and my kids loved how much cleaner their laundry was.  I got rid of the bulk of our chemical cleaners and bought a big ol' bottle of vinegar. But when it came to the way we eat, I didn't want to rock the boat.  I chose to ignore a lot of information, thinking that the radical "green" activists were just lunatics.

Case in point: I had read the vegan manifesto "Skinny Bitch," and hated it.  The Che Guevara rebel pose of that book was off-putting, to say the least, although it lured readership with the words "skinny" and "bitch" (emphasis on the "bitch").  I think I actually threw the book away and drove to In-n-Out for a Double-Double.  But "Crazy Sexy Diet" approached me in a "you can do this, you can change your attitude about eating and living" sort of a way.  It made me feel like I could experiment with juicing and eating greener foods and just see how it made me feel.  I could tip-toe my way in.

And you know what? It feels great. I have not given up on a lot of things because I am only a month and a half into my "new" life; therefore, I still drink coffee (mostly fair trade and organic) with cream (organic), still eat fish occasionally, won't kill myself if I eat sugar (though it's tasting sweeter to me as my tastebuds change) or alcohol, still eat dairy (though I like buying organic, range-free eggs from local farms) and if it comes down to buying non-organic produce, I will (with a list of the "dirty dozen" in my purse).

The only thing is, now that the more I know about where our food and "health" products come from, the more challenging it is to live moderately.  What I mean is, I can't just pull the wool back over my eyes.  When I drink a frosty Diet Coke from a can - formerly my favorite beverage in all the land - I can't ignore the fact that it's been made from chemical sweeteners that cause both carb cravings (bad for a "diet" drink, no?) and cancer, and I also wonder about the aluminum can... where did it come from? How will it be recycled? 

Diet Coke is an easy one because I rarely drink it anymore, but when I checked out my cosmetics on Skin Deep, I was horrified.  I pride myself on my skin and am religious about my sunscreen and eye cream, but both of those (as well as my beloved anti-aging serum) are high in toxic ingredients... And what's a girl to do?  Give up on her youthful appearance to save the planet?  I'm being dramatic here, but my point is that my eyes are opened and I can't shut them. Acknowledging that I am still taking baby steps into this new lifestyle, I am going to do my best to find organic, vegan, cruelty-free alternatives to my favorite products.  

I won't go crazy with trying to get other people on my bandwagon, nor will I slap a Diet Coke out of a friend's hand - that's not at all who I am. In fact, from time to time, I may ask for a sip or a can of my own.  And I still drive an 8-year-old SUV, which I will keep until it dies and then I'll buy a more fuel-efficient car.  But being conscious makes me wary of lame articles like the one in Self Magazine's latest issue, "Detoxify Your Life," which suggests "easy" fixes for becoming more chemical-free.  I think we are far too accustomed to living the "easy" way.  It's okay to challenge ourselves to be more active participants in our health, from the way we eat to the way we clean.

I'm still experimenting, so I won't go all out and say I'm green or organic or vegan. But I feel radiant.  And that's where I wanna be.