I have never, ever successfully completed a diet. Which means I have never, ever intentionally lost weight. I say this with full (and thankful) knowledge that I haven't really ever been overweight by more than a few pounds either. Granted, I'm not the lanky, tight-bodied thing I was at 15, but I've managed to maintain the illusion of an athletic body type. I've never felt particularly "fat" in my life -- until now. But not just any kind of fat....the mixed blessing of "Happy Fat."
I did drop a great deal of unintentional weight once before, during the months after the Naval A-hole breakup ("disappearance" is a better word). I was thrown into such a pit of despair, apparently food did not cross my mind. For those of you who know me personally (or those who've read Pork Me, Please), forgetting to eat is a BIG deal. I love me some food.
I didn't even notice my weight loss until co-workers started teasing me for my droopy pants (I hate belts). Others would compliment me on my newly slender figure. With every comment, I would cringe. Every ounce of that weight loss came from pain and misery. It was nothing I was proud of and every time someone brought it up, it just served to remind me of my most humiliating life experience to date. My response to every "Wow! You look so slim!" was a terse, "I'd rather be fat and happy."
Then one day I snapped. A sweet but busybody co-worker chirpily complimented me on my slender physique. It's sort of fuzzy because I clearly had lost my mind, but I think I said something like, "Well, maybe your husband will leave you with no warning and then see how skinny you get." Yes, I apologized profusely a few minutes later. That was rock bottom for me.
When I met Wine Guy this past April, I was slim, trim and finally on an emotional upswing. So was he, apparently having dropped almost 50 pounds just prior to meeting me. Perhaps a bit of false advertising on both of our parts because once we came together and got mushy gushy, we started adding on the pounds. At first I didn't care. Like I said, I've never had much of a weight problem and figured I could exercise it off once the honeymoon phase was over. I also remembered my curt little reply, "I'd rather be fat and happy." And, damn it, it was true and I was thankful.
But Wine Guy did care, and he soon started feeling pretty awful about himself. It's really hard to eat right when your partner isn't on board so we both kept on munching. But when the many new pairs of smaller sized pants I bought for myself a few months earlier started to become too tight, I realized I had to put a stop to this immediately.
So last week, Wine Guy and I decided to do a 21-day detox diet he had done about six months earlier. Last night we planned the meals for days 1 and 2, bought our groceries and began the diet today. So far I'm tired from no caffeine and have a headache, but I hear if you get past the first 2 or 3 days, you start feeling terrific. Please, oh please let it be true.
I'm determined to successfully finish this detox diet.Not just for me, but to support Wine Guy and get him back to where he feels as positive about himself as he deserves to. If I succeed, this just might be the first time in my life where I find the happy medium between "Skinny and Depressed" and "Fat and Happy" -- let's call it "Healthy and Happy." I guess it couldn't hurt if there was just a little less of me to love.