The 4 Worst Things About My 70-Pound Weight Loss
There are no two-ways about it: Losing 70 pounds has probably been one of the most emotionally taxing yet rewarding experiences of my life thus far. It didn't happen quickly. Four years, a dozen pairs of cotton "workout" leggings from Target (this was before I knew sweat wicking material existed), and a zillion Weight Watchers 2-point smoothies later, I learned a lot about myself. I grew. I thought long and hard about the person I want to be and the goals I have for my future. As corny as it sounds, I did a lot of soul searching, and arguably the most important thing I learned was that it's just as important to sit still sometimes as it is to get out and get active.
The outcome of that journey? Mostly positive. I'm an overall happier person who enjoys life more. I have new hobbies, many of them active. I'm a healthier person. I understand the importance of reading nutrition labels. I have more energy.
But I can't lie. There have been negatives, too.
Now before you freak out, call me ungrateful, think that I'm whiny -- hear me out. I'm not complaining. I promise. I'm just being real.
1. People start pretending they care about you. They're mostly men (if you're straight). It's one of the glorious (read: questionable) results of social media. Even if you aren't "friends" with someone, your photo shows up on someone else's newsfeed and then suddenly you're slammed with friend requests from people you haven't talked to in years.
Tell me, what's the point of saying "yes" to these? Of course, I'm all about meeting new people. But in my experience, I had completely moved away from my childhood home, the town I grew up in, and these people were sometimes across the country wanting to connect with me solely because they liked what they saw.
You mean to tell me you want to be my friend now that I look different? You mean to tell me that you'll treat me differently than back in high school? Sorry. Jig is up, and I've moved on.
2. Clothes are effin' expensive. Sorry, I don't mean to curse. But it's true. It's not just buying new jeans, it's buying new tops. It's buying new workout clothes. It's buying new shoes. (Yes, your feet shrink, too!) After a while these things add up. I tried to save money by getting creative with belts, using them to not only hold up my jeans but cinch tops, add definition to oversized sweatshirts. The reality? That can only work for so long. And then it's a wallop on the wallet.
3. Your perception of yourself may never fully change. I've had my new-and-improved body for a few years now, and to say that I have yet to fully come to terms with the fact that the weight is really gone, that's an understatement. Like most women, I don't know if I'll ever feel totally comfortable in a bikini or not look at certain areas and think of them as "trouble spots."
4. I constantly worry about "relapsing". There's no doubting that in my heavier days, I had an addiction to food. I craved French fries. I loved ice cream. I couldn't just have one plate when I did a sweep by the college dining hall. Some days, now, I get those urges back. Sure, it's okay to indulge in those cravings every once in a while. I've learned how to eat what I love in moderation. Still, that doesn't mean I don't worry about the what ifs. What if I gain the weight back? what if I lose control?
Sure, losing the weight was a major journey. But the journey continues long after the last pound is gone. The journey is for life.
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