In the meantime

Sunday evening. You know, I've noticed that this little chunk of cyberspace isn't really living up to its billing as a "weight loss blog" of late. I mean, I hardly ever talk about what I'm doing (or not!) about losing weight and getting healthier. I think the thing is that, for me, those things are just happening now, they're not really something that I focus too much of my energy or thought on. I wonder sometimes if that's a good thing and then I realize that it simply is and I stop worrying. If, however, you're looking for a traditional weight loss blog, I fear I might not be your girl any more. My archives have a lot of weight loss and fitness talk, though, so I hope you'll browse through my past if that's what you're looking for. (Start in June if you want to see how this little journey of mine began.)

What I can share with you is the absolute certainty I have that, if you don't base your weight loss and fitness journey on self-love and the desire to heal your life, if you see the journey as filled with sacrifice and self-loathing, you are missing out on a huge piece of the puzzle. I've lost over 100 pounds before only to put it all back on and more and I know that, in some part, that happened because of what I was pinning my hopes to. Well, I'm here to tell you that there is no such thing as "thin enough" when "thin" equals "happy". Your stomach may be concave, your face may look tired and haggard, but, if you don't love yourself no matter what you look like there will never be "thin enough". The funniest thing I've found along the way is that, when I love and care for myself and allow that to guide my eating and physical activity decisions, the weight comes off without the miserable feelings of guilt and deprivation and without the desperation born of needing to lose weight - not for health reasons, but just to be able to look at myself in the mirror without revulsion.

Do you know what the funniest thing about this whole little journey of self discovery I'm on is? That the weight and inches are really the least of it for me. Seriously! I mean, did I have a mini celebration here in Chez Denise this afternoon when I realized that the size 20 jeans I'd just bought at WalMart (they're the only ones that fit around the food baby and don't look like clown pants around my hips and thighs!) were too big? Oh, you bet I did, it's just that it was a quiet thing and it wasn't the best feeling I've had all day. No, while it was nice, my whole day was filled to the brim with little celebrations and moments of deep, lasting happiness. From the sight of my new camelia bush ready to explode forth with blooms to the first sip of my nonfat, decaf, sugar free vanilla latte to the simple act of switching over to my spring linens (doesn't everyone do that???), I just love it all. I love my house. I love my couch with its rose-covered slip cover. I love my TV armoire and my Breakfast at Tiffany's poster and my big, green velvet armchair and matching ottoman. I love the little cream silk ribbon tied in a bow on the door handle to my bathroom. I love sitting here after dinner, laptop in front of me, my baby girl kitty sitting on the couch next to me, tapping out words that people I'll never meet will read.

I love my life and I love myself and that is "enough".


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