There is a drawback to losing weight. At least, I have suddenly become very aware of something that I am unhappy with due to my loss of pounds and inches. I never thought I would feel this way, but a part of me is very sad about the changes I see in the mirror.
Really, this all started with my last progress picture. I can see the differences. With my September and October photographs I had a hard time identifying the fruits of my labour; I couldn’t see how major the changes were that my body was going through. Now, I can.
And I actually feel sort of awful about it. I look at the image of myself from the beginning of this blog and compare it to my recent one and I realize just how far I have come… which also shows me just how far I had let myself go. How could I have ever let myself get to such a neglected state?
As long as I was not seeing the differences, I was alright. I could lie to myself and reassure the internal me that I carried it well. Unconscious thoughts like, “hey, look, I’ve lost forty pounds and can’t really tell! Guess I couldn’t have looked too bad to begin with,” must have been floating around in my head all the time before. And now? Now it makes me want to cry when I see what drastic alterations I have brought about with only three months of work.
I am not saying that this has been easy. I am not saying that I want to revert to the old me. I am, however, saying that it makes me sad to see what I did to myself when I look back at the proof.
My wedding pictures - and many other precious memories captured on film - will always be those of the fat bride and woman. The experiences from the last fifteen plus years will forever be marred by the limitations I imposed on myself because of this overweight body. I will have never been anything but technically obese in my twenties. These are unalterable realities.
Yes, I am making the changes now and I feel great about that, yet I can’t help but also feel a sense of loss for what I had never known I was missing. Losing weight is hard in so many ways.