Note: I have been thinking about writing this post for a long time. It wasn’t easy to write. I share it because I believe many struggle with this issue. It is not my intention to fish for compliments, but if you would like to share your perspective or wisdom born of your experience, I welcome it. I hope that, in sharing, it is helpful or validating for others.
Me at different ages, shapes and sizes:
The weight. It is physical, it is emotional, it is mental. I am 66 years old, and I am still carrying it.
“The weight” is an image of myself. I have always seen and felt myself to be a fat person, and I have internalized the belief that a fat person is less worthy. At this point, I don’t blame my parents because I have been an adult for a long time and need to take responsibility for myself. I also understand they were a product of their times and their own struggles with self-image; but they were always talking about weight – losing it or gaining it. My mother, in particular, was fixated on appearances. It wasn’t just about health, though they were certainly concerned about that, too. Our whole family, almost all of my aunts and uncles, struggled with weight. It was a frequent subject of conversation – what diet folks were trying was a common topic. I went to Weight Watchers for the first time when I was 12.
This was long before the idea of body positivity had taken hold. I know it hasn’t truly taken hold, but the concept is available; certainly more so than when I was forming my notion of what a woman should look like.
Today I look at pictures of me as a youngster, and I don’t see a fat child. There were times I was chubby, but certainly not obese. Looking at those photos today, I realize there were times I wasn’t even chubby. I look like a normal child, then a normal adolescent, and even a normal young adult. My weight bounced around within a 10- to 20-pound range. After retirement, and during COVID, it got a lot worse. I gained more weight. I was officially obese.
Over the last two years, depending on how and when you measure, I have shed almost 60 pounds. Even at my lowest point on the scale, I still carried “the weight.” Some of it has crept back in recent weeks – crept is probably the wrong word. It didn’t sneak up on me. I knew I was eating it back on. I am trying to get a handle on it. I am hoping writing this will help me do that. Again, depending on how and when you measure, I have gained 6-10 pounds. Yikes! On the bright side, that still leaves 50 down. I don’t want to get hung up on the numbers, but it is hard not to. It goes far beyond the scale.
The reality is that I suffer from body dysmorphia. That became clear to me when we were planning my daughter’s wedding, several years ago. When Leah tried on my wedding gown, and it wouldn’t zip up, I was flabbergasted. I thought I was huge at my wedding. My dress, bought in 1983, was a size 12. [Note: I have since learned that sizes have changed – a size 12 in 1983 is equivalent to a size 8 or 10 today. That change itself raises a whole other set of questions.] My daughter is not huge; she is beautiful. I’ve written about my wedding dress before in several contexts, but I didn’t realize until that moment how distorted my view was. While that experience was an ‘aha moment,’ it didn’t rid me of my body dysmorphia. How does one get a realistic or objective view of one’s body?
I have been to therapy, but the focus wasn’t on that issue. I worked on getting out of my own way (unrelated to weight, or so I thought). I felt stuck. Therapy was successful in many ways. I stopped ruminating long enough to write a book! I didn’t understand then how debilitating this distorted view of myself was.
I have also had any number of conversations with Leah about this topic as she has navigated this territory herself, especially since she became a mother to a daughter herself. Leah has made me more aware of the insidious nature of the “beauty industry,” and the subtle and not-so-subtle ways we are influenced to believe that we need certain products, exercise regimens, diets, books, etc. to be our best selves. Some of that may be healthy, but it goes too far. Women spend a great deal of mental energy (not to mention money) on their appearance. I hope my granddaughters won’t be as burdened by this endless, fruitless effort to measure up. I certainly don’t want to contribute to it.
I wonder if it is possible to truly accept my body. In many essays I read, the advice is to appreciate one’s body right now – in whatever form it takes. They tell us that in my yoga classes. I want to meet myself where I am. After all, in the most important ways, my body is very functional. Every so often, I pause to appreciate that. And in the next moment, I assault myself with negative thoughts. My self-worth shouldn’t be tied to my weight. When I was 50 pounds heavier, I was still a loving wife, mother, and nana. I was still a contributing member of society. I managed to be active regardless of my size. I’m not more valuable today than I was three years ago, when I was my fattest. I know this intellectually, yet I am petrified that I will gain it all back and be even harder on myself.
Of course, the main reason to avoid regaining it is my health, specifically my physical health. I don’t want to develop type 2 diabetes, which runs rampant in my family. Diabetes can be a devastating disease.
I also want to remain active. As I am aging, body parts are weakening. My hips and knees ache – and sometimes it is more than an ache – carrying an extra 50 pounds will only speed up the breakdown of those joints. I imagine I could find alternative ways to get my heart rate up, or maybe get replacement parts, but that causes anxiety, too. I like being active. I want to stave off surgery and giving up things I enjoy doing, like tennis and hiking.
Another reason I am writing this is to explore the role of GLP-1s. They have been part of my journey. Two years ago in June, I started taking Wegovy, which led to slow, steady weight loss. Unfortunately, I was one of the people who experienced gastrointestinal side effects. I start off with a slow digestive system. I managed the side effects for a while, but then I couldn’t. I went off it. After a while, my doctor, my husband, and I decided to try Zepbound. Once again, it was helpful for both weight loss and for returning my blood sugar levels to the normal range. The reason I started medication in the first place, aside from obesity, was that I had become prediabetic. But once again, the side effects of Zepbound proved too uncomfortable.
My most recent blood work, without the benefit of a GLP-1, had me in the prediabetic range again. Now I am faced with another possibility. I can try yet another drug – Foundayo, which is a pill, not an injection. Injecting myself was not an issue for me. I don’t know if the formulation is the same as the other GLP1s I’ve tried. If it is, and the mode of action in the body is the same, why wouldn’t I react the same? But maybe the method of absorption will make it easier. Trying it is the only way to know.
Oy!
It is such a complicated issue. What I want most is to stop being so negative about my body. Losing a substantial amount of weight didn’t move the needle much. Yes, I felt better. And yes, dressing for social events was less anxiety-provoking. But the belief that I still didn’t look good enough persisted. Even if I miraculously reached my goal weight, whatever that might be, I suspect I wouldn’t be satisfied because what I see in the mirror isn’t reality. What is reality when it comes to looking good? What does that even mean?
I need to address three separate things: my health (as measured by my A1C), the aches and pains in my joints so I can maintain the activities I enjoy for as long as possible, and, most challenging of all, the voice in my head that tells me I am not attractive enough.
I will try Foundayo. Hopefully, that can help with the first and second issues without too many side effects. Whatever happens with it, the real question is: can I feel good about myself regardless of my size or weight?
I am open to suggestions! If you have found a way to come to peace with your body, please share.
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