The other day someone asked me what prompted me to lose weight. I feel as if I’ve answered this question, in part, but never really verbalized it in a non-calculated way at least.
I took a moment to ponder the question since this person was really asking out of concern for her husband who has gotten to the point where it’s difficult for him to tie his shoes. I could see that she was wondering what it was going to take for him to lose weight.
I’d like to say that I realized I was in danger of developing diabetes or that I absorbed what my mother said when she warned me that there were heart problems on my father’s side of the family or that the creeping number on the scale was a motivating factor but it wasn’t.
I cope by denial.
It takes me a long time to wrap my mind around bad news. I just deny, deny, deny.
It was a gut feeling that hit me in May of 2007. It was an inner voice that said enough is enough. I also think that I did not like my image in the mirror at that point.
After years of wondering why photographs of me were so skewed, I finally saw a true reflection and it was too hefty.
I no longer wanted the NBA-sized body minus the fit part.
What can I say? A light went off in my head. Or, it was like my moonbeam clock (when it works), the light flashing and flashing until it gently wakes me up.