A conversation occurred between me and my mom the other day. The subject was a family member. My cousin has been living with the same girl, Marla, for about six years. I see her sometimes, at family gatherings. I like this girl. I want her to be married into the family.
Marla is the only one with artistic sensibilities in our family. Besides me. I like her. A lot.
But, considering that her dog moved into my cousin's house before she did, I doubt he is going to marry her. Which makes me sad. What makes me sadder is her weight. Like me, Marla has struggled. We have both been through weight watchers. We shared this with each other. It is an act of trust, sharing this with another woman. Very, very scary. It is opening up venerable spots and saying, here, take a look.
I have maintained the thirty five pound weight loss. She, on the other had, has exploded.
I was discussing this with my mom. How sad I feel, how powerless. I want her to be with me, now that we live in the same town. I want her to start again, on the road of being healthy. And I am powerless to help her.
This is where my mom jumps in:
"I don't know WHY you feel sorry for HER! She has a great job, she is really good person. She is a really NICE GIRL! Why do you think she NEEDS HELP?!! SHE'S A GOOD PERSON, WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT SHE IS UNHAPPY? She looks happy, she obviously is!"
Discussing weight issues with my big mom is well, pointing out the elephant in the room. This defense of Marla's character is an attempt at redirection from the real issue. The real issue is how big she is. The fact of the matter is, there is shame there. This is what women feel.
I can tell you right now, no woman is happy underneath a heavy weight. Especially this woman. I hadn't seen how far she had exploded, how much weight she had gained. And when I saw her, she didn't make eye contact. Talked very fast and left the room and then the house. She hunched, she blustered. I felt bad for her. We both felt this uncomfortable energy. Yuck.
There is nothing worse than having another woman feel sorry for you because you are chubby. It is demeaning in a way.
But, I felt bad for her. Not sorry for her. I did not pity her. She has been through weight watchers. She has seen the light. She just needs to find it again. And this will only happen when she is ready, when she wants to. Until then, I see her pain on display and I feel bad.
All of this relates to what this post is really about.
I feel myself falling of the wagon. I am eating too much, my belly is gr owing, I feel down and sluggish. And even though I am still 35 pounds lighter, I need to attack a second level here.
Reinforcing the healthy house of Hall. Building up what is standing but shaky.
With that being said, here are the stats:
Percentage body fat: 25%
I will blog each week, on Wednesdays,about what is going on in this area of my life.
Should be a good read.
And for the love of God. Leave comments. Supportive wonderful comments.
It scares me, this stuff. Scares me a lot.