Okay, *I* don't need motivation, but that's the feedback I've gotten from a lot of you.
I hate to be the one to bear bad news, but if you want me to motivate you, you're going to be sorely disappointed. I can't do that. Your motivation has to come from YOU. I can tell you what motivates me. That might trigger something in yourself, but I, personally, can't motivate you. I wish I could! You'd all be size sixes by now!! :)
There are hoards of things that motivate me. It changes daily, depending on my mood. Typically though, when someone decides to lose weight, it's based on one of two issues: health and vanity.
Let's address the health factor first. This isn't one I'm immune to. To spell it out, my mother died of colon cancer when she was 50. I was 15. I was the one to take care of her throughout her disease and I would NEVER wish that job on anyone, much less my own children. My grandmother died of heart failure when I was a child, too. My sister suffers from diabetes & heart disease and has since her early- to mid-thirties. I'm thirty-five. I'm surrounded by health issues that could take my life if I'm not careful. I have entirely too many things planned for myself to die at a young age. I had to make changes. Permanent, life-long changes.
Vanity. Ahh yes, vanity. I could ramble on about how I hate my double (triple?) chin, how my thighs rub together when I walk, how I can't sit up to a table at a restaurant because my belly's too big...but if you've ever struggled with weight, you know all this already. My vanity is a more personal issue. I spent much of my life in this frumpy life of mine. I've spent the majority of my life with women like myself who don't see themselves as anything more than ____'s wife or _____'s mom. I was like that too. It was as if a light bulb went on for me. I don't have to just identify myself in relation to someone else. I'm my own woman! I've got a fabulous smile and amazing eyes and a fantastic personality, but because we're so fueled by appearances, nobody can see that, not even my husband.
Now, before it comes across like I'm dogging on my husband, I want to clarify this is NOT about him. He's a very very good man and loves me regardless of what I look like or how big my ass gets. But let's face it. After several years of marriage, the fire can slip from the flame, if we're not careful. That's where we're at. I know that my appearance (and lack of energy) is partly to blame. I don't blame HIM. I blame ME. When I feel like I look like crap, the LAST thing I want to do is get naked in front of him. I want to throw on my tshirt & sweats and crawl into bed. I don't want to have sex. But more importantly than that...I don't want to hear "God, you're beautiful" when the first thing that crosses my mind when he says that is "You're only saying that because you HAVE to. You're my husband." I've let my own hang-ups about my appearance interfere with my sex life.
No matter how many times he tried to convince me that I was beautiful...or that he loved me no matter what I look like, until I see MYSELF as beautiful, he's not going to convince me otherwise. And let's address that whole "I love you no matter what you look like" issue. To me, that's code for "I know your ass is twice the size of when we met, but I love you anyway." That's not a compliment. That's his way of settling for me and the size I've become. NOBODY should settle. Including my husband.
Hmm..I kinda got off track. My apologies.
What specifically motivated me?
I hated the way I looked. I hated the size I wore. I hated the fact that I had exactly TWO stores to choose from if I needed to shop for new clothes. I hated that I couldn't sit in an armed chair without those arms digging into my hips. I hated the fact that my seat belt choked me. I hated the fact that I had gotten so fat that my scale was just a few pounds away from NOT being able to weigh me anymore. I hated the way my belly stuck up out of the water when I took a bath. I hated the way other people looked at me. I hated the way *I* looked at me. I hated second-guessing what people thought when they saw the fat girl (uhh, hi. that's me) ordering a super-sized meal at McDonald's with an apple pie (or two). I hated knowing that my daughter had to lie to me everytime she said "Mom, you're NOT fat." I hated everything about my appearance, my confidence (or lack thereof), my poor health. I hated that I whined about all of that and yet STILL chose not to do anything about it. (That little revelation came to me about 2 yrs ago when I blogged at Sparkpeople)
Several months ago, I had the TV on and was watching "Half-ton Mom" on TLC (followed by "Half-ton Man" and "Half-ton Teen" and all the other "let's see how much of a spectacle we can make of these fat people" shows). It hit me. That is going to be me. One of these days I'm going to wake up to a phone call from TLC and they're going to want to do a TV show about ME and my fat ass. Okay, so reality check was cashed and I realize that's probably NOT the case, but really, as I watched the show, I realized just how many similarities I had with these people. My question for them was always the same: Didn't you see how fat you were getting? Didn't you want to do something about it? And I realized that I couldn't even answer those questions myself. I didn't see how fat I'd gotten. I didn't want to do anything about it...at least not for very long. Its not like they woke up one morning and they were suddenly 6oolbs and said "Holy shit! How'd I get here?!" The same is true for me. I didn't step on the scale every day and see 150lbs and then one morning, BLAMMO! 267! It snuck up on me....and if I didn't put a stop to it, I would end up that big.
That's where it started for me. That's what motivated me....realizing if I wasn't careful, I could become a reality show. While I sometimes have a flair for the dramatic, I do NOT want that kind of attention. Ever. I don't want to be the "fat lady freak show."
And with that, I'm heading to the gym. :)
I hate to be the one to bear bad news, but if you want me to motivate you, you're going to be sorely disappointed. I can't do that. Your motivation has to come from YOU. I can tell you what motivates me. That might trigger something in yourself, but I, personally, can't motivate you. I wish I could! You'd all be size sixes by now!! :)
There are hoards of things that motivate me. It changes daily, depending on my mood. Typically though, when someone decides to lose weight, it's based on one of two issues: health and vanity.
Let's address the health factor first. This isn't one I'm immune to. To spell it out, my mother died of colon cancer when she was 50. I was 15. I was the one to take care of her throughout her disease and I would NEVER wish that job on anyone, much less my own children. My grandmother died of heart failure when I was a child, too. My sister suffers from diabetes & heart disease and has since her early- to mid-thirties. I'm thirty-five. I'm surrounded by health issues that could take my life if I'm not careful. I have entirely too many things planned for myself to die at a young age. I had to make changes. Permanent, life-long changes.
Vanity. Ahh yes, vanity. I could ramble on about how I hate my double (triple?) chin, how my thighs rub together when I walk, how I can't sit up to a table at a restaurant because my belly's too big...but if you've ever struggled with weight, you know all this already. My vanity is a more personal issue. I spent much of my life in this frumpy life of mine. I've spent the majority of my life with women like myself who don't see themselves as anything more than ____'s wife or _____'s mom. I was like that too. It was as if a light bulb went on for me. I don't have to just identify myself in relation to someone else. I'm my own woman! I've got a fabulous smile and amazing eyes and a fantastic personality, but because we're so fueled by appearances, nobody can see that, not even my husband.
Now, before it comes across like I'm dogging on my husband, I want to clarify this is NOT about him. He's a very very good man and loves me regardless of what I look like or how big my ass gets. But let's face it. After several years of marriage, the fire can slip from the flame, if we're not careful. That's where we're at. I know that my appearance (and lack of energy) is partly to blame. I don't blame HIM. I blame ME. When I feel like I look like crap, the LAST thing I want to do is get naked in front of him. I want to throw on my tshirt & sweats and crawl into bed. I don't want to have sex. But more importantly than that...I don't want to hear "God, you're beautiful" when the first thing that crosses my mind when he says that is "You're only saying that because you HAVE to. You're my husband." I've let my own hang-ups about my appearance interfere with my sex life.
No matter how many times he tried to convince me that I was beautiful...or that he loved me no matter what I look like, until I see MYSELF as beautiful, he's not going to convince me otherwise. And let's address that whole "I love you no matter what you look like" issue. To me, that's code for "I know your ass is twice the size of when we met, but I love you anyway." That's not a compliment. That's his way of settling for me and the size I've become. NOBODY should settle. Including my husband.
Hmm..I kinda got off track. My apologies.
What specifically motivated me?
I hated the way I looked. I hated the size I wore. I hated the fact that I had exactly TWO stores to choose from if I needed to shop for new clothes. I hated that I couldn't sit in an armed chair without those arms digging into my hips. I hated the fact that my seat belt choked me. I hated the fact that I had gotten so fat that my scale was just a few pounds away from NOT being able to weigh me anymore. I hated the way my belly stuck up out of the water when I took a bath. I hated the way other people looked at me. I hated the way *I* looked at me. I hated second-guessing what people thought when they saw the fat girl (uhh, hi. that's me) ordering a super-sized meal at McDonald's with an apple pie (or two). I hated knowing that my daughter had to lie to me everytime she said "Mom, you're NOT fat." I hated everything about my appearance, my confidence (or lack thereof), my poor health. I hated that I whined about all of that and yet STILL chose not to do anything about it. (That little revelation came to me about 2 yrs ago when I blogged at Sparkpeople)
Several months ago, I had the TV on and was watching "Half-ton Mom" on TLC (followed by "Half-ton Man" and "Half-ton Teen" and all the other "let's see how much of a spectacle we can make of these fat people" shows). It hit me. That is going to be me. One of these days I'm going to wake up to a phone call from TLC and they're going to want to do a TV show about ME and my fat ass. Okay, so reality check was cashed and I realize that's probably NOT the case, but really, as I watched the show, I realized just how many similarities I had with these people. My question for them was always the same: Didn't you see how fat you were getting? Didn't you want to do something about it? And I realized that I couldn't even answer those questions myself. I didn't see how fat I'd gotten. I didn't want to do anything about it...at least not for very long. Its not like they woke up one morning and they were suddenly 6oolbs and said "Holy shit! How'd I get here?!" The same is true for me. I didn't step on the scale every day and see 150lbs and then one morning, BLAMMO! 267! It snuck up on me....and if I didn't put a stop to it, I would end up that big.
That's where it started for me. That's what motivated me....realizing if I wasn't careful, I could become a reality show. While I sometimes have a flair for the dramatic, I do NOT want that kind of attention. Ever. I don't want to be the "fat lady freak show."
And with that, I'm heading to the gym. :)
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