As I’m nearing my goal of 165 (although it seems to be slowing down a bit…), I find myself actually getting more and more anxious. I think that’s perfectly illogical, but I can’t shake the feeling. I spent so much of my time when I was fat daydreaming about if I weren’t fat. Did anyone else do this? I would have internal dialogue that always started with, “When I’m not fat..” or “If I wasn’t fat..”
For the most part, a lot of that dialogue is starting to see results. I can sit in an airplane seat comfortably. I can go through a turnstile without fear of being stuck. I can be in line for a roller coaster and not have to worry the whole way up about if I don’t fit having to cross over in shame. I can find clothes, I can buckle my seat belt, I can walk for reasonable distances without being winded.
Unfortunately there is another side that I’m not sure I will see results without some additional assistance. I always thought once I was a normal weight, it would magically fix all my personality flaws because surely my personality flaws were connected to my fat. Yeah, not so much I’m finding. I’m still fighting with insecurities out my ear.
I still feel like people stare at me, in the bad way. I still feel uncomfortable walking into a new situation without someone there I know to lean on. I still feel like I’m not good enough for people to desire, or want to be friends with, or just be in the same room with me. Isn’t that silly? I still require the approval of others to find any worth in myself, and I hate that. I want to change that so badly, and I thought once that if the fat were gone, it’d magically appear.
But it’s not. I think that’s the hardest lesson I’ve learned while I was losing the fat: losing the fat doesn’t fix it all.