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Who’s That Girl?
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That’s the question I ask myself when I look at the photo on the left. This was me, fifteen years ago. 40 pounds heavier than now, miserable in my corporate power jacket. No amount of make-up, hair spray, tan or jewelry could hide the fact that I loathed my body, just for its shape.
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Food has always been my friend (or so I thought). Sometimes maybe not the company I needed to keep, it has brought me comfort, joy, escape and satisfaction, often even replacement for unfulfilled dreams and relationships. Growing up in Germany, my breakfast as a child consisted of bread with two thick layers: butter and Nutella, a soft boiled egg on the side. Dinner was the typical German smorgasbord of breads, sliced meats and cheeses and, yes, butter. Always butter. I also knew how to polish whole bags of chips and don’t get me started on chocolate. Needless to say, I was always a bit on the heavy side. Nothing wrong with that in general except that I loathed any kind of athletic activity and quickly learned that this was obviously not “pretty”. So throughout my adolescence, I struggled with my weight, always trying this or that diet Old news, so many of us have done this. Most of all, I came to hate my body as a woman, in my eyes it matched nothing that was portrayed as attractive.Fast forward a few years, I moved to the US with my first husband at age 21. The introduction of a southern diet didn’t exactly help my body, neither did a culture of worshipping thin models. Unbelievable to me at the time was the $5.99 all-you-can-eat buffet at Ryan’s where, as struggling college students, we would eat until we’d almost burst, mostly to “get our money’s worth”. It wasn’t until my father visited from Germany and noticed that about 90% of the patrons in this restaurant were seriously overweight. Point taken, but my struggle continued. I took a corporate job at a Germany company and faced the challenge of dressing professionally. For a couple of years, I tortured myself with hose and heels, the only bearable option was to dress in pants and a suit jacket to cover it all up. The highlight of the day at jobs I dreaded was usually when a supplier dropped off donuts in the break room, or a greasy lunch followed by more caffeine. One day in the dressing room of a plus size clothing store, I broke down when the size 18 pants were too tight, I just couldn’t believe I’d have to move into the 20s and felt helpless in making a change.
On a business trip to I can’t remember where, I wondered into the airport bookstore looking to entertain myself waiting for my delayed flight. A paperback about weight loss fell into my hands. The tag line was “Eat, Breathe, Move…” and had a word I liked: EAT. I bought the book and read it in three days. My eyes and jaw wide open, I had learned to read nutritional labels and finally understood what I was putting into my body. Most of all, I followed her advice: I cut the fat (anything white and creamy, fried food, red meat) and some processed foods, started moving (walks every day) and paid attention to my breathing while I moved. These were HUGE shifts. Now, I’m not advertising her book as the bible for weight loss, some of her nutritional advice was not healthy (like cutting out all fats, oils etc), but her blunt style and straight forward information hit me right at the most opportune time.
I have never had so much fun eating! The amounts of food I was “allowed” according to the author were enormous, as long as they were lean and healthy. So I ate. LOTS! I also made light exercise a must and this was no easy feat for me then. What helped a lot was a spread sheet I created in which I recorded the minutes of daily exercise, my own fitness companion. It had a graphic chart attached to it and I was motivated not to see that chart line dip! Ah yes, the power of observation! This process started in June 1995. I ate like a race horse, more than ever. For three months, nothing happened in terms of my weight. Nothing! Again, I followed the advice, “if nothing’s happening, so what, ask yourself if you feel better and keep doing what you’re doing”. Well, I certainly felt better, so I kept going, swinging my 1lb hand weights as I walked through the neighborhood at 95F, huffin’ and puffin’, I didn’t care. If you have ever tried to implement a shift in your life with new habits and worthwhile goals, you understand that three months is a long time without results! Then, sometime in September, the weight started to literally fall off. That’s when the whole process really began to be FUN! I kept eating and moving and breathing, at that point I thought “wow, this is easy! is this really all I have to do??”
So what’s my relationship with food now? I’m still learning, that never stops. Food is still a source of pleasure and comfort, and sugar is certainly a tough one for me to cut out. Chocolate was put on this Earth for only one reason. :-)) But I have learned moderation, mostly through listening to my body. It readily tells me when I’m full, when I’m eating things it doesn’t like, and rewards me with great comfort when I treat it well. I’m immensely grateful for each meal, for this flow of abundance we experience every day. On that note, I think I’m heading out to get some healthy delicacies, right after my walk!
Guten Appetit!
