I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to write this post. It’s quite something to talk about losing so much weight because it opens you up to so much criticism, so I’m putting myself out there in the hope that my experience can help others.
Let’s start by saying that I’ve struggled with my weight since I was a kid. When I started junior school at age 5, I wasn’t overweight but always had a slightly stockier build than the other little girls. I remember looking at school photos and feeling ashamed of my thick calves, compared to the tiny, bird-like legs of the girl next to me. This continued throughout school, which meant I always felt different to the other girls- a feeling I have since learned to champion, but when you’re still figuring yourself out, being different alienates.
We all know what happens next. Through my teens and twenties, I would endure strict diets and exercise programs that would deprive, starve and weaken my body and spirit. They would work in the short term and I would lose 10, 15, 20Kgs at a time, only to put the weight back on in a few months. I did this to myself at least 5 times, putting all the weight back on, and more. Eventually I became carb-intolerant from years of yo-yo dieting and the only thing that worked for me was a drastic low carb diet with literally zero room for a single potato or apple.
I can’t even remember what triggered the last major drive to lose weight. I followed my low carb plan and did an intense cardio workout 4 times a week, and before I knew it, I’d lost 15kg. I started running- something I could never do before because shin splints would halt my progress after one day. Running felt awkward and unnatural but something clicked with me and I pushed through, running longer distances at faster and faster speeds. I experienced the runner’s high; my weight loss sped up. The more I lost, the harder I pushed at gym; the more I lost, the less I ate. I was by no means running marathons and existing on 500 calories a day, but the stringent plan was starting to take its toll (I was running 5km four times a week and eating about 2000 calories a day). I was utterly focused on my goals, which is necessary considering that when I started I was about 50kg overweight, but I had no interest in life outside of my eating plan and exercise regime. The weight fell off and I felt increasingly good (read: smug) about how I looked and what I was achieving.
By this time, I had become, quite frankly, an asshole. Anybody who didn’t have the willpower of steel that I had was a weak and spineless individual in my regards. I preached to anybody who would listen.
It felt good being able to walk into any shop and know that their clothes would fit me; that having to fit a DD chest and curvaceous butt into a dress or jeans was a thing of the past.
But here’s the thing: I was no happier than I was at my heaviest. In fact, my self-worth reached an all time low.
This poor view of myself that I’d carried around for most of my life affected my marriage badly. To be honest, only as I’m writing this post am I realising the true extent of it. I had no self-love and hinged my worth on other’s validation and feedback.
At that point, I had lost 48Kg in 10 months. I was at my goal weight and my relationship was suffering when I expected all my problems to have burned up as I burned off the calories. I blamed it on my partner, saying that my weight loss and new found confidence had upset the dynamic between us. I realise now that I was putting the blame at someone else’s feet when I was an empty shell of a person who could not be loved until I loved myself as whole person who didn’t need validation or propping up.
Sparing any readers the ugly details and also respecting my husband and our privacy, we went through a very bad patch during which time I learned a lot about myself and others. I also put on most of the weight I had lost. How the hell did I let it happen after all the work I put in? I don’t quite know- but I do remember feeling intuitively that my body needed to just BE to gain some balance again. I had stopped running and following the low carb plan- the second I stopped, the weight start to creep back on. I was so busy with other problems at hand that I didn’t care.
But strangely enough, it didn’t matter. Coming out the other side of our bad patch, I had gained something in going through the trauma of almost losing my best friend/husband and a relationship that means the world to me- I gained myself. I had gained self-worth and the belief that I am enough as I am; that whether I’m a good person worth of love, praise, admiration and respect does not hinge on my size. We all know this and its not an unfamiliar concept, so why do so many women and men still struggle with practicing this belief? It’s a daily practice that has good days and bad days, but my aim is more good than bad and I’m doing pretty damn well.
I bought myself a beautiful Billabong swimming costume, US size 12/14, this summer and had the best summer I’ve had since I was a small child. I went to the beach several times each week, I went on holiday to Thailand in minimal clothes, I swam in a resort swimming pool that was overrun with tanned, skinny backpackers and I actually LIVED.
So this might have started off being about how I lost 48Kg but in the end, this is about loving yourself. Being healthy is important, of course. Loving yourself includes having the respect for yourself to look after your body. These lessons take a while to sink in, but for now I am taking baby steps each day to change a lifetime of bad eating habits. More importantly, I’m happy in my own skin and that’s the biggest victory for me.
So please love yourself as you are now and not who you think you’ll be when you’re a size or four smaller, because it might not make the difference you think it will. It can make the difference between living your life or merely existing because you’re too afraid to get out into the world.
Thanks for reading. Have you had a similar experience? I'm interested in your thoughts and comments!