If you want to send a thin woman into a depressive episode, just tell her she’s lost weight. We DO NOT, under any circumstance, never ever ever ever want to hear that. Not from friends, not from family, not from total strangers, not even from the doctor. I had a friend Facebook message me not too long ago that I look great and asked how much weight have I lost. Umm, I don’t do scales. I told her I avoid scales. I have no desire to know how much weight I’ve lost. Ignorance is bliss when you’re thin. Today, the doctor’s assistant tried to steal my bliss.
Today I weighed in at 150.6 lbs. Welp. The funny thing is, 150 actually used to be my dream weight. Yes, even small girls have a dream weight. Only difference is, we usually want our numbers bigger, not smaller. For years, my weight stayed in the range of 140, give or take five pounds. I could never seem to gain weight, no matter how much I ate. I hated that. I don’t know why I chose 150. I guess because it seemed like such a far, impossible number to reach. I just felt like, maybe 150 would be the magic number to finally get people to stop calling me skinny or making other comments about my weight. All my life I was teased about my weight. Maybe 150 would be enough to finally be normal.
Last January, I found out that not only did I meet my dream weight, I exceeded it by almost 20 pounds! My weight before starting my 21-day raw foods/juicing detox was 167 lbs. Unbelievable! All those months of eating pasta sometimes three or four times a week, no exercise and stress really paid off for a sistah. Only problem was, I didn’t like how I felt and really didn’t like how I looked. I got my weight up, but almost all of it went to my stomach. My cardio sucked, my HDL cholesterol levels were in the “increased risk of heart disease” range and I didn’t feel like what a healthy 31-year-old should feel like. Not to mention (but I’m about to), my parents’ health challenges really didn’t genetically set me up for success. I had to decide what was more important to me: continuing to get bigger (but not better), or taking back control of my health (even if that meant sacrificing the weight I worked so hard to gain). I chose my health. The choice has been bittersweet.
The last time I saw my doctor and had my weight taken was in March, shortly after I finished my detox. I was down from 167 to 158. I was NOT a happy camper. I think I looked just fine, but the numbers still nagged me. I read somewhere that your body will eventually balance itself out to its ideal weight. Unless you’re really working hard to tip the scale one way or the other, your body will maintain its proper weight. I feel pretty good, so maybe my body is happy with this size. I know my body type is what it is and I have to work with it. It’s not about the number; it’s more about how I look and feel. If I rely on the numbers, my dream weight as this point is probably closer to 180 lbs, but with a flat stomach, LOL.
The grass is always greener on the other side, I know. Somewhere, there’s a woman wishing her 180 was really my 150. So what’s a thin girl to do? She leaves the doctor’s office and buys a chocolate baby bundt cake and chai tea from Corner Bakery.