I found a journal entry of mine from when I was 13; it was a list of goals I had for the new year. One of these goals being to lose 30 pounds. At that point I was confident that this was the final time I would start again. That that instance was going to be the last time I set that goal. Spoiler Alert: it wasn't. I've had an off and on relationship with weight loss for a while. This was a really terrifying thing to see for a couple reasons:
- I pushed away opportunities/plans while I "waited" until I lost the weight. For a long time, my weight was something I was preoccupied with. I don't know how common this is, but the idea of "I'll do _______________ after I lose ___ pounds" is such a dangerous way of thinking. Was life on pause until I lost weight? Are certain achievements/experiences only allowed for when I'm comfortable taking a photo of myself after the fact? This is dangerous because even if I never lose the amount I'm supposed to in order to be content, I'll have never lived fully. And honestly, fuck that.
- My weight has become a numerical reflection of my tendency to quit on goals that can make me healthier and happier in the long term. Why? I can watch all the videos about weight loss, read all the motivational stories, and still I find myself doing nothing to remedy my habits. Intuitively, I know how to lose weight. It's mathematical and objectively simple. However, I'm stuck in this cyclical tiredness and I sometimes feel like I'm watching someone else make self-destructive choices. Like I'm screaming at the main character to maybe not go into the dark attic alone, and they never listen cause they can't hear you. And that's kind of what I gathered from this: life can be horrific (or I guess ironic) because we have so many choices and opportunities to better ourselves even just a little everyday, and yet we feel... powerless. It's a disconnect from reality, a disconnect from what you are capable of and what you believe you are a capable of.
So, what is it? A fear of failure? A fear of succeeding and nothing changing? The fleeting feeling of happiness after a good ol' bowl of sugary cereal? Honestly, that last one was a little too real lmaooo. My point is I can't pinpoint exactly what is stopping me, but I know that the feeling of my heart dropping when I read my journal entry with the same exact goal I have now was not worth the million little things I could have done differently. I don't want to be in my late 20's looking back to now, or my late 40's looking back at my 30's. Or at least, I want to promise myself that at any age, I won't allow myself to believe it's too late to do better.
Anyway, I'm writing this mainly as a reminder to myself that my mind is fickle and likes treats. Set manageable goals, and even if means just going through the motions for now, just do it. (Imagine this whole tangent was a Nike ad, lol) Maybe I'll do a check in every Saturday for accountability, or make a monthly schedule with space for weekly goals. I'm excited to try again, and I'm looking forward to the challenge of pushing through even when the motivation isn't there.
Thank you for listening. :]
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