A funny thing happened to me yesterday. For a moment, I lost weight.
Don’t think I can’t hear you. ”No one loses weight just for a moment.” Well, I beg to differ, although some of you may find it difficult to believe.
My head knows that I’ve lost weight. In fact, my surgeon says that I’m quite a successful bandster. Since my surgery, the scale says I’ve lost roughly 50 pounds – a not insignificant loss.
I can see that I’m eating smaller meals. Even on days that I feel like I’ve eaten like a horse, an objective assessment says that if that’s the case, it’s at least a much smaller horse. I ate dinner with friends not too long ago, and my ‘appetizer’ would have made 3 meals for me if I hadn’t shared it.
I know that I’m wearing smaller clothes. It may be TMI, but I had to make a trip to the store last weekend to buy new undies. That big stack of jeans that I had stashed in the back of the closet? You know the ones – the jeans that you keep because someday you’re going to be able to wear them again. Those jeans have been moved to the front of the closet. Some of them have even gone into the give-away bag because they’re too baggy.
But while my head knows that I’ve lost weight, I haven’t felt the weight loss. I look in the mirror, and I don’t see anything any different than I’ve seen all along. I can intellectually accept the idea that my body image was skewed in the first place, so maybe what I’m seeing now is actually what’s there – it’s what I was seeing before that wasn’t right.
But that’s neither here nor there. Because yesterday, just for a moment, when I looked in the mirror, I could see that there’s a difference. I looked at a recent picture, and there was a moment of ‘Hey, you look different – that’s what your friends are talking about.’
It didn’t last for very long. Today I got out of the shower, and found myself focused on my chubby knees, my round butt and that really annoying bit of extra belly above my waistline. But yesterday, I lost weight.