The One About My Ass

I’ve been on this incredible weight-loss/weight-maintenance journey for more than seven years, and I continue learning more about myself than I thought possible. I’ve met inspiring people – virtually and in real life – who motivate me to think positively, to accept myself where I am in every moment, and to see myself through a different lens, one that’s not focused on weight all the time. I’ve listened. I’ve implemented. And although I no longer weigh 125 pounds, which was insane for me, I remain committed to being physically active and mindful of my food intake. I can stand in front of the bathroom mirror and say, “You look nice, Lynn.”

Then I walk out the door and sometimes it’s like the last seven years didn’t exist.  

The more things change, the more the past comes and bites me in the ass. And I mean, literally, my ass (the biting part is figurative).

I’ve never been comfortable with the shape of my ass. When I’m thin, it’s flat. When I’m overweight, it’s flat. I have absolutely no bootie. Paired with long, gangly legs and a thick waist, I’ve never found the perfect pair of form-fitting jeans.

This is a first-world problem, I know. White Whine. It’s like complaining I can’t get cell service in the Squirrel Hill Tunnel. I get it. But still…this self-perception is real and I want to work toward ass self-esteem and move on.

I found this on KnowYourMeme. Blogger Jessica Hagy drew it.

It started in high school. I remember climbing the stairs behind a cheerleader and her boyfriend. The cheerleader was a petite blond with large breasts and a small round butt. Her boyfriend was a football player who often picked her up in the lunchroom and threw her over his shoulders. I was behind the boyfriend who was behind the cheerleader when the boyfriend said loudly, “I’m making a sign for your ass that says, ‘Wide load.’” He laughed and laughed. The cheerleader turned around and playfully hit his arm, but I was horrified for her. Then I was horrified for me. If he thought his girlfriend’s ass was fat, there was no hope for mine.

I became the master of backing out of rooms, or walking sideways when I was in front of someone. After awhile, I did it without thinking. And the times when I had no choice but stand directly in front of someone, I obsessed over how awful my ass must look to whomever was behind me. Self-centered? Yes, kind of. But with a psychological bent that told me I wasn’t good enough because I had created in my head this belief that my ass made other people uncomfortable. Like people woke up that morning and prayed, ‘God, I hope I don’t see a flat ass today.’ Crazy thinking, I know, but seriously, don’t we all have some insecurity that makes us nervous? Cautious of? Hell bent on hiding?

You recall my last blog was about getting back into the dating scene after losing a lot of weight. I had the good fortune of meeting “Steve” a few weeks ago. Yesterday, he invited me to a 30-year anniversary party at a restaurant he’s been going to since it opened. I chose to wear a pair of jeans and a black knit shirt and a cotton jacket that would cover my ass. Only I accidently left the jacket at home because I couldn’t wear it under my winter coat. As you can imagine, and I knew, a lot of his friends and neighbors were there. Steve led me to the opposite side of the bar from the juke box and rest room, introducing me along the way. If I wanted to use the bathroom or play the juke box, it meant I’d have to walk away from Steve and past his friends and other bar patrons.

This is not me being egotistical. This is me responding to years of programming, advertising, and comments from people I thought cared about me that nothing short of a perfect body is good enough. Ergo, I’m not good enough. I’ve worked on those demons for many years and I’ve exorcised a good deal of them, but my 16-year-old insecure self still lives inside and she was all up in my head yesterday.

I fidgeted a bit in my chair, thinking about this first-world quandary, as Steve talked to a few of his friends. They were having a juke box challenge – who could play the worst song from the 60s and early 70s – and I knew exactly what I wanted to play: Tom Jones’ “She’s a Lady.” I’m competitive and I wanted to play that song more than I wanted to hide my ass. So I grabbed a dollar out of my purse and I walked around the bar, perhaps a little red-faced, but I held my head high and kept my ass in perspective. I plugged the song in the juke box and when it played, got a great big laugh from the crowd. I didn’t win the challenge, but I rose above the ass-hating, if only for a few minutes.

I logged online this morning and read Tippy Toe Diet Cammy’s blog and I thought, ‘Man…she’s in my head again.’ This graphic was at the top of her entry:

Reality check!

There are a lot of things about me that I’ve learned to love and accept. There are a lot of other things that need work. And I will work. Giving up, while it might linger in my head some days, is not an option.

I had a therapy appointment this afternoon. I’ve been seeing Julie on and off for two years. As I was making an appointment for our next session, she said her schedule was tight next week, so could I be flexible. I said my schedule is usually flexible. “That’s the beauty of me!” I said.

“That’s what you need to tell yourself in all aspects of your life,” she replied.

She definitely got me on that one. And we hadn’t even discussed my low ass self-esteem in our session!

I suspect we all believe things about ourselves that are either simply not true or that might be true, but we view them through a magnifying glass and not in their proper dimension. It can get in the way of our happiness, our goals, our hopes for whatever outcome we want to strive for.

I want a bootie and that ain’t gonna happen without major medical intervention. But more than that, I want to accept my bootie and every other part of what makes up the real me. And as I said before, I’m not giving up. I am who I am. And that’s the beauty of me.

Throwing Out The 300-Pound Pitch

In an interview in 2008, Neal Conan asked Carrie Fisher on “Talk of the Nation” why she wrote “Wishful Drinking,” a memoir about her experience with manic depression, addiction and ECT, particularly given its stigma. She answered: “The thing about telling it is, if I make it a secret, it has enormous power. Then I have to be scared. ‘Will they find out?’ And I’m, like, ‘If you find it out about me, I’ve already got there first, so you’re gonna hear my version.’”

Google my name and it’s easy to find me and my 300-pound truth. I put it out there willingly in 2005, hoping to find kindred spirits, people who were on a path to embracing their own truth about weight. With more than 1.5 million page hits since 2005, clearly there are more than a few of us out there seeking that truth.

I don’t mind telling you I was 300 pounds. You get it. It’s not so easy telling someone with whom you’re out on a first date and you’re ordering a salad and he’s ordering wings with blue cheese dressing and he jokingly says, “New Year’s resolution?” and I say, “Well, kinda.”

The story of me isn’t an easy story to digest, so to speak. It’s one thing to say, “I weighed 300 pounds seven years ago.” It’s quite another to say, “My weight impacts my life every day.” Some women seek tall, dark and handsome. Me? I seek someone who won’t eat Doritos in front of me.

In Pittsburgh, we call it “nebbing.” When you want to find out about someone, you neb. I have one of the nebbiest neighbors ever. He’s forever watching my house. There isn’t a light that goes on or goes off that he doesn’t know about. He’s harmless enough, but it’s a little unnerving having your every move observed.

That’s kind of how it feels when I meet someone new and they find out my name. They’re gonna neb. Heck, I do it, too! But I prefer he hear my weighty truth from my lips and not from a photo of 300-pound me in a purple dress contrasted with the me he has just met. Yes, my blog is my truth and my voice, but for someone who isn’t accustomed to reading weight loss blogs, my blog can be a lot of truth to take in without some prior warning.

While I don’t consider obesity a character flaw, many in this world do, especially the judgy mcjudgers who tease, roll their eyes, and all out hate fat people. So there’s an added chance of judgment I have to take when the “So tell me about yourself” convo starts.

A few years ago, I met someone who, after a few dates, asked me straight up about loose skin. “Do you have any?” was his exact question. My response? “You’ll never find out,” and I kicked him out.

Now while that sounds all bold and Go Me, in truth it was embarrassing and it made me wonder how many other men would wonder the same thing.

It wasn’t long after that that I met C and we dated for about 18 months. My truth became a part of our relationship, an almost non-entity except that he didn’t eat Doritos in front of me. Now that I’m single once more, I’m wondering if I have it in me to, as I wrote in 2011, “…roll my eyes back and throw it out there again,” a reference to that the scene in Bull Durham when Nuke is on the mound wearing Annie Savoy’s garter and he rolls his eyes back and pitches the ball.

My choices are either stay in and hide or get out there and try. I choose to try. After all, I was who I was and I am who I am and the guy up to bat has a number of options of what to do with that curve ball. If it’s to inquire about loose skin, then he isn’t worthy. If it’s to stick around, then I’ll explain the part about the Doritos.

Remember The Ant Farm!

Tara Brach tells a story of her son who, in first grade, received an ant farm for his birthday. He watched the ants living life the way they do, and in the process, he grew to know them. He saw fellow ants take their dead comrades to an “ant cemetery.” He watched them build homes and share food, and observed their interdependence. Then one day at school, he saw his classmates on the playground squishing ants and laughing. He was devastated. He couldn’t understand why they were killing the same kind of creatures he’d witnessed living their lives in his ant farm. His mother said, and I’m paraphrasing, that his classmates, unfortunately, didn’t know the ants like he did.

You can’t destroy that which you love or know intimately. And, on the flip side, you cannot love what you do not know.

So why is it that we do things that hurt ourselves, the person who should be our own best friend,  the person we love most in this world?

The hurt is often subtle. A bag of Cheetos, a donut at a work function, some ice cream after a long day. In and of themselves, these things aren’t “bad” when consumed mindfully. For instance, I chose to eat a few baked chips while writing this blog. I wasn’t subconsciously destroying my food plan. I’m PMSing and I recognized the craving for salt and crunch. It feels awkward to say I “loved” myself enough to eat baked chips, but satisfying that craving by consciously choosing to eat a small portion was, in a subtle way, an act of love.

Now the decision I made yesterday to sit on my ass all day and not exercise when my body was clearly needing movement? Not so loving. My excuses and distractions were like squishing ants on a playground. I was not intimately in touch with what was going on in my body. I put my fingers in my ears and refused to listen to what it was saying.

I attended a lecture last Saturday on the topic of how to change your life. I’m not looking to change my entire life, but there are parts that could use some tweaking. The speaker, Eileen Colianni, is the one who said, “You cannot love what you do  not know,” and she went on to emphasize that “knowing” isn’t enough. We must act, too.

I “know” eating carrots rather than carrot cake is a healthier choice. I “know” going to the gym is a better choice, too, than…say…going to Dunkin Donuts (unless it’s for a non-fat latte AFTER a workout!). I know these things and yet…sometimes something stops me from choosing the better path.

As Eileen said, we are often caregivers and are used to asking, “What do you want from me?” She challenged us to turn the question around and ask, “What do I want from me?” And to get what we want, she said, we have to decide something. De-cide. The root of “cide” is to kill. So in order to decide, we must (proverbially speaking) “kill” something to get what we want. For instance, if I want to lose 20 pounds, I need to “kill” the thought that floats around in my head that 20 pounds will magically disappear simply because I want them to. Therefore, the death of a negative thought or a misheld belief is the key to knowledge and, in turn, the pathway to love. Loving what we know.

(Maybe now is a good time to take a deep breath and reassure yourself that you don’t have to fully ingest or even accept what I just wrote. I know I get all tight in the stomach and I scrunch my shoulders and wince my eyes when I read convoluted philosophies about “how to” live my life. So…OK…take a deep breath. Hold it a few seconds. Let it out. Feel better? That, my friends, was an act of love.)

We all have it within ourselves to discover our own truths about what we truly want and need. And it is without self judgment that I urge you to examine what those somethings are. What good is self flagellation anyway?

If you need a reminder about not being able to destroy that which you love, remember the ant farm! Make it your mantra and do what it takes to love your bad self!

The Mental Price of Skinny (and how I’m finding middle ground)

It felt good to write and publish my last post, “Intentions and Confidence.” It feels right to have my voice out here again, even though it is a somewhat changed voice. But isn’t that what our voices do? Change, grow bolder, and perhaps wiser?

Ever since first grade, I’ve been honing my voice. (Read “The GleefleThat Sneefed” from my ZenBagLady blog.) I can shut it up for awhile, but it doesn’t take long for it to start knocking in my brain, “Let me out, damn it! I’ve got something to say that you (meaning me) need to hear!”

And so last week I let my voice out of its mind cage and resurrected Lynn’s Weigh. You see, months ago, I thought I’d written the last chapter of my weight-loss, weight-maintenance journey. I thought I had nothing thoughtful to say anymore. I wasn’t losing weight. Hell, I wasn’t even maintaining! I am 20 pounds heavier than my goal weight – weight brought on, in part, by arthritic and personal issues. But the biggest reason I’d gone blog rogue is, quite frankly, I was ideologically exhausted. I didn’t know what I believed anymore.

For six years I was a food purist. I became a vegetarian along the way and I ate a salad every day and two servings of fruit. I limited my carb intake, and shunned white sugar, white flour, white rice, white potatoes, Splenda and Tofurkey. I weighed myself every morning, naked and evacuated. Every point-something number mattered and was recorded. When the scale read between 128-132, I was happy. Anything more than 132, I panicked.

I ate, drank, and slept weight. I wrote about it, talked about it, and even got on camera a few times to show what losing weight looks like. Weight was a full-time job that didn’t pay the bills and left me emotionally drained.

Then I got divorced, and for the last two years, life has morphed into something very unlike the life I lived in the comfort zone of yore. Weight used to be my purpose. For the last year, it’s been more of a backdrop. It is my Intention to find a middle ground. A place I can lose or maintain without losing perspective. A place in which I can walk and chew gum at the same time.

This doesn’t mean I’ve changed my belief that good nutrition and balanced food choices and portions are essential to weight loss and maintenance. And I still believe in the power of exercise, both on our minds and bodies. Those themes will remain the same here. What I’m learning is how to set my train back on the tracks when I get derailed by physical issues and emotions beyond my immediate control. I listen much more closely to my body and treat it with even greater respect than I thought possible. I’ll share these insights with you along the way, as I’ve always done, but with less absolutes than before. Balance, I’ve learned, allows for some wiggle room.

I’m also back because I have the best readers in the blog-o-sphere! Readers who aren’t afraid to speak up, share, ask questions, and support one another. Call me selfish, but I need y’all (or “yinz” if you live in Pittsburgh). Thanks for sticking with me, and if you’re new here, welcome! I’ve posted 400+ blogs here in five years, so start reading! There will be a quiz on the material in a few weeks. Oh wait, that’s MY life. I’LL have a quiz on material I’ve read over the next few weeks. I’M the one in school. Everything gets so tangled up in my head sometimes :)

As a quick update, my daughter, Carlene, was married in October.

Luca is 3 1/2. Claire is a squish over 5.

Maelie (AKA MaeMoo) will be 2 in four weeks!

And my grandchildren keep growing like weeds!

Grandbaby #4 is due the end of February. My daughter, Cassie, amazes and inspires me every day. She teaches spin and a strength training class several times a week this late in her pregnancy. When I had 6-7 weeks left of my pregnancies, I went to work (in an office), came home, and plopped in front of the TV. I’m still guilty of that, and I don’t work in an office and I’m not pregnant! I have no excuse! 

------------------------------------

Congratulations to MariankaK for winning Carla “MizFit” Birnberg’s book, “How to Build Muscle and Lose WeightWithout Losing Your Mind.” As I mentioned last blog, I’ve been reading Carla’s blog for years and her down-to-earth approach to life, fitness, motherhood, you name it has grounded me many times, especially those times I didn’t realize I was ungrounded! Give her blog and book a look-see if you haven’t already. 

Intentions & Confidence

I thought its time had come and gone, its 15 minutes of blossoming fame, but I woke this morning to two open flowers on my Christmas cactus, with the budding promise of eight or nine more. This 7-year-old cactus has been flowering since late November, more than making up for last season’s one-and-done blooming performance. It’s the perfect mascot for my new year’s Intentions, ones filled with a desire to achieve my goals despite the inevitable changes, setbacks and general bumps in the road.

I like the word “Intention” rather than “resolution” because there’s something more mindful, more encompassing about Intention. So, forget all that “road to hell” BS about Intention because the way I’m writing about it here, it isn’t just a nice thought of what we’d like to do but forget two seconds after we think it.

Intentions are a breeding ground for mindfulness. They are my inquiry into why I behave and think the way I do. Intention, to me, is a proper noun and therefore needs to be capitalized Intention is a friend, a teacher, a counselor with a name. Ms. Intention. And she has a big job ahead of her this year.

For instance:

·     *   “My Intention is to understand and be mindful of why I still – after 7 years – wander around the kitchen looking for something to stuff in my mouth when I’m on a deadline, even though I’m not hungry.”

·     *   “My Intention is to carve a career that is based on what I want to do and not what others thinks I should do.”

·     *    “My Intention is to find peace in my personal life, and to understand how I am responsible for my own happiness.”

Intention isn’t a road map. It’s a starting place. It’s a consciously made list of the behaviors and thoughts I most want to engage in in order to live the life I want. Intention isn’t a wish. “I want to be skinny” is different than “I Intend to lose 20 pounds because I want to better control my blood pressure and arthritis.” Intention implies action.

Of course “imply” isn’t “does.” Intention isn’t going to go to the gym for me or meditate for me or fix a healthy meal for me or study for me or save money for me. Intention is my go-to place when I need to be reminded why I’m going to the gym instead of playing Angry Birds all morning; making a healthy meal, even when I’d rather nose dive into fettuccine Alfredo; doing my homework instead of wandering aimlessly on the web; not buying something I don’t need in order to save money for the things I do need.

Whenever someone asks me how to lose weight, I tell them to not start with a “diet,” but rather to start with writing down the reasons she wants to lose weight. That reflection leads to Intention, and it’s her Intention that she can look back on when faced with the challenges of weight loss.

Intention can’t work alone, though. It needs Confidence (or Faith) to succeed.

Unlike Intention, Confidence isn’t a statement of goals. It’s not a reminder. Confidence isn’t an action, but rather a muscle that takes time and repetition to build. For instance, when I’m aware that I’m wandering around the kitchen, I have the capacity to ask myself, “What’s going on here that is making me mindlessly stare into the refrigerator?” Remembering to be aware builds my Confidence that the next time, I have a good chance of staying present.

It’s not rocket science, yet at times it feels like it. I mean, if our Intention is to lose 10, 50, 100 pounds, it our actions toward that goal that build our Confidence, right? But tracking food intake isn’t easy at first (and sometimes never). Neither is figuring out what food is best to eat in terms of our desired carb/fat/protein ratio, which in and of itself can be confusing! But the more we learn and the more we track, the better we get at it, and in the process, we’re living our Intention.

I liked the example Buddhist teacher Gil Fronsdal gave in a recent dharma talk, “The Faculty of Faith.” If your Intention is to learn to ride a bike, then the more you ride, the more Confidence you gain. And if you fall off and your Confidence is shaken, remembering that it’s still your Intention to learn to ride a bike is what will get you back in that seat.  

Say you develop a food and exercise plan because your Intention is to lose weight and get fit. You go for a few weeks spot on every day with your food intake and exercise goals. Then you go out to a restaurant or to a party and your favorite foods are there and you take one then three then twenty bites even though in the back of your mind something’s screaming “Stop!” But you don’t listen and then you wake up the next morning feeling guilty. Your Confidence is shaken. Do you say, “I can’t lose weight! I’ll go eat donuts!” or do you get into your workout clothes and hit the gym? Distraction from our Intentions isn’t a crime worthy of guilt. It’s not a crime at all. It’s the perfect place for reflection and mindfulness.

In the ancient Buddhist texts, the root word for Confidence meant “hospitality.” As Gil said, it means “being a good host to your experience, a good host to whatever’s going on.” Intention and Confidence does not want us to treat ourselves unkindly when we forget or when we fall down. They merely want us to stay present, to pay attention to what’s going on with ourselves and to be kind.

I’m choosing this year to live my Intentions, moment by moment, to the best of my ability. To build Confidence at the gym, in the kitchen, at school, within my relationships, when I’m lonely, when I’m happy, when I’m afraid. And when I feel myself striving too hard or separating from the present, I will call on my Intentions to set me back on the path.

So I may be a little late to the Happy New Year party, but I wish for all of you a year filled with mindful presence and self-kindness. And look for me a little more often here, too. Blogging regularly is another one of my Intentions *grin*

Book Giveaway! 

If it’s your Intention to get fit and you’re looking for some wise (and fun) counsel, I strongly encourage you to read Carla “MizFit” Birnberg’s book “How to Build Muscle and Lose WeightWithout Losing Your Mind.” I’ve been reading Carla’s blog for years and her down-to-earth approach to life, fitness, motherhood, you name it has grounded me many times, especially those times I didn’t realize I was ungrounded! Her book is helping me rev up my fitness routine and no, she didn’t pay me to say that! I just love Carla’s honesty. It works for me.

To win a copy of Carla's book, all you have to do is leave a comment and your name will be thrown into the hat for the drawing on Monday, January 14. You don’t have to write anything profound. Just “Hi” will do. Or you could list one of your Intentions. That would be great! Good luck!