Every year since I was a kid, I’ve resolved in some form or another to lose weight. At ten, I had this plan to do calisthenics in the backyard everyday like I was from the 1960s or something. I’d lose a ton of weight, especially over the summer, and then I’d be popular and pretty and life would finally start. I’d have my teen movie moment.
I’ve been self-conscious of my body forever, aware of the space I took up and all my flaws and imperfections.
My oldest brother posted a TBT photo from when I was four or five and I couldn’t believe it. I looked like normal kid. Perfectly normal. I can’t get it out of my head, because I don’t remember ever feeling like a normal sized person.
My parents both had a on-going struggle with their bodies and their self-image. Mom was always trying a new fad diet. Dad bought home gym equipment from infomercials. My brothers and I were always trying to change our bodies (still are) and it stems from how my parents treated theirs.
There’s an age gap between each of my siblings and me, so I got to watch my brothers’ struggles before I even hit puberty. My oldest brother, whom my mom had plenty of commentary about, cycled through weight loss and gain in his teen years and then joined the military, where his body was even more regulated. Our middle brother packed on muscle and played sports. He wrestled throughout high school, obsessing over his weight class, actively dehydrating himself to gain advantage. He would obsessively binge and fast in turn to sculpt his body. Since he graduated from high school in the early 2000s, we didn’t see this as an eating disorder. He was just disciplined.
My parents attempts to lose weight and get the perfect body always failed. Mom would eat low-fat or Atkins or whatever was trendy for a few weeks before quitting and starting the cycle all over again. Dad never used the equipment that promised ripped abs for only payments of $19.99 for 36 months.
I am on the precipice of 30. This year, this decade, has a lot of baggage for me, but I am trying to gain perspective. I don’t want to continue this cycle, this family obsession, for the rest of my life. It’s unhealthy and unproductive. Throughout my 20s, I made lifestyle changes that I think improved my overall health. I’ve incorporated forms of exercise that I love (hiking, walking, yoga) and plan to focus on that more. I try to put better food in my body, largely cutting out the junk I grew up on.
As I’ve said in a previous post, I lost 70 pounds in 2018 and maintained it (or you know, had a super long plateau) in 2019. This year, I gained a bit back due to, well, 2020. I never hit my UGW before I started to plateau/maintain and while I felt more comfortable in my body after losing weight in 2018, I didn’t feel like I was done.
I want so badly to resolve to lose the last thirty pounds this year, I really, really do, despite having typed all this up. I want to just write that down and feel that little accomplishment, like I just bought gym equipment I will totally use or a new diet book. Cycles are easy to fall back into for a reason. It would be easier to follow the same pattern I had ingrained in me, the one I inherited and know like an instinct.
Instead, I resolve to fix my lifestyle: setting fitness goals and developing a consistent daily routine; focus on healthier foods and cut down/out added sugars and processed food; examine my relationship with food and my mental health to reduce emotional and bored eating.
Here’s to a better 2021 for us all, y’all.
Do you have a cycle you want to break?
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