Hey, y’all. Thought you might like to see a sample chapter from my new book about worrying and fretting. I don’t know about you, but I seem to have graduated with honors from Worry 101. Oh, don’t look so sanctimonious! I know I’m not the only person who can take a tiny little thing and worry it to pieces—you know, important things like worrying about bad hair days…or our (gasp!) weight. See if you can relate to this one…
Worrying About Being Overweight
Well, this one is a given. I’ve never known a woman who didn’t worry about her weight. Get a couple of women together, and invariably the topic will arise. Usually, it’s the two skinniest women at the table who talk about how fat they are, causing the rest of us blimps to shrink into our seats trying to be invisible. Fat chance of that. Um. . .no pun intended.
Sometimes no words are needed to make us feel bad. Recently I sat in church behind a young mom. As I looked towards the pulpit, I noticed the tag was sticking out from the back of her dress. “Size two,” it screamed. Church was over for me at that point. That’s all I could notice for the rest of the service.
But that’s okay. She inspired me—and I decided that whatever it took, the tags in my clothes would also say “size two.” Six months later, after months of hard work, every item in my closet had a size two tag in it.
Wow, I was impressed that it only took me six months of consignment store trips to buy enough size two clothes so I could cut the tags out of them. And you’d better believe that once I’d sewed them into my clothes, I made sure the tags stuck out. I mean, I’d worked hard for that.
She inspired me—and I decided that whatever it took, the tags in my clothes would also say “size two.”
Is there anything worse then going clothes shopping with your skinny friends? It irks me that they always put the big woman department in another part of the store from the other women’s clothing. You know, tucked into a logical spot between the luggage, linen departments, men’s clothing, and outdoor furniture.
So I would just pretend that I wasn’t looking for clothes whenever we went shopping so my friends wouldn’t know I had to shop in the big woman department. And then one day, as I passed a three-way mirror and looked at my larger-than-life self, it hit me. They knew! It wasn’t a well-kept secret! Oh my.
I’ve tried most all of the diets without success. I even discovered a diet in the pages of the Bible, “Touch not, taste not, handle not.” That one would probably work.
I remember years ago when I was on one of the milkshake diets. My four-year-old son would beg for one every day. I explained to him that it tasted nothing like his favorite milkshake from the fast food place, but he kept asking.
So one day I decided I’d go ahead and make him one. I figured he’d just take a sip and then he’d leave the rest. To my surprise, he drank all of it. “You’re right, Mama. It isn’t very good.”
A little later, I heard a banging sound in the bathroom. I eased down the hall to see what he was doing, and discovered him standing on the scales, hands on his little hips and a disgusted look on his face.
“Look, Mama,” he said. “I drank that whole milkshake and I haven’t lost a single pound.”
Absolutely hysterical, but I think most of us can relate to his mind-set because that’s what we want—instant results.
I’ve come to terms with my weight. . .somewhat. One only needs to look at my family genes to know that becoming a willowy thin goddess isn’t in my future.
But I finally decided I wanted to lose weight because I wanted to be healthier. Psychologically that was huge as I realized that every time I cheated, I wasn’t just hurting my weight-loss plan, I was hurting me.
The results haven’t been instant, but the weight gain wasn’t either. No, I’m still nowhere near skinny but I am eating healthier and taking pride in that. Maybe you’d want to join me, and then both of us could be around to see our grandchildren get married.
And, hey, guess what? I really do have those size two tags in my clothes now. Let’s just keep it as our little secret that it’s accompanied by another digit.
There’s a skinny woman hidden inside me. Unfortunately, she’s buried at the moment.
Poem: Food for Thought
I know there’s a skinny gal inside of me,
Oh, I hope I can find her some day,
Then maybe I’ll hear those sweet words,
“Stop losing weight! You’ll blow away.”
But that’s not too likely to happen,
Despite what I’d like to think,
So I guess I’ll just go eat some chocolate,
‘Cause I’d hate for my poor hips to shrink.
I’ve lived on that diet roller coaster,
With its dizzying ups and downs,
It seems I only need to look at food,
To gain some additional pounds.
But I guess that I’ll keep on trying,
To make those pounds go away,
Or the next time we gals go to dinner,
I won’t have nothing to say.
“The content of this blog post has been used with permission from Product Concept and is copyrighted material from There’s No Sense in Stewing and Fretting ‘Cause Wrinkled is All We’re Getting, written and compiled by Michelle Cox. Content is not to be used or copied without permission from Product Concept.”