As I have been maintaining my weight for the last several months (I never dreamed I'd be able to say those words!), I've been learning new things about myself that give me some insight into the mental aspects of losing such a large amount of weight.
I lost 125 pounds in 16 months (from August 19, 2009 until December 15, 2010). Even though I lost the weight at a healthy rate, dropping 125 pounds (nearly half of my body weight) was quite drastic. Sixteen months is not a lot of time to fully grasp what is happening, and I always felt like I was trying to catch up mentally.
But first, my current Wednesday Weigh-In (from yesterday):
Each week that goes by that I stay close to goal, I am surprised. I don't think I will ever NOT feel surprised by it. One thing that has changed about my mentality (for the better) is that I don't fret over the number being up or down when it's within reason. For example, if I weigh in at 132 one week, and then 134 the next, I don't think, "Oh, I gained! What did I do differently? How am I going to explain this?"
I wish I knew when I started losing weight that small gains don't necessarily mean that I did something "wrong" to cause the gain. Sometimes gains just happen for no reason.
Until recently, I would feel like I had to explain why my weight was up two pounds in a week. Now, I don't think anything of it (except for my vacation weight gain--that was a six-pound gain, which is significant enough to mention). But as long as I'm not binge eating or consistently overeating, I don't worry about the actual number on the scale. I trust that it will stay within reason.
It has taken me a LONG time (a lifetime, actually) to get to this point. Even though I knew, logically, that weight fluctuates for all sorts of reasons, I always felt like I needed an explanation for it. I felt like gaining was a bad thing. I felt pressured to take it back off, no matter how small the gain. I think this came from years of dieting.
I wish I'd known how much damage that sort of pressure to lose weight would do to my mentality.
Weight Watchers was especially damaging. At meetings, when I would weigh in and my weight was down, I was congratulated and told I did a good job. I was a "good dieter" that week.
However, when I weighed in and my weight was up, even just a couple of ounces, the receptionist would look at me with sympathy and ask if I had a bad week, or if I was struggling to stay on track, or even say, "Don't worry, you'll take it off this week!". This made me feel like any gain at all was a bad thing. "Don't worry"? So that means a small gain is a reason to worry?
Nobody noticed I was losing weight until I'd lost about 40 pounds. That's a lot of weight to lose! It was discouraging that it wasn't very noticeable, but I kept reminding myself that eventually, I would drop some clothing sizes. I looked forward to that, and I always had a pair of jeans handy in my closet--a size too small, so I could try them on frequently until they fit.
I wish I had known that it was going to take a very long time for the loss to be noticeable.
I felt so disappointed when it wasn't noticeable, and I wished I'd been prepared for that. I needed to be patient. It wasn't until I'd lost 40 pounds that I noticed a difference (and that others did, too).
When I had lost a decent amount of weight, I started getting so many compliments as I got smaller. It felt wonderful! My self-esteem was growing with each pound lost and each size I dropped.
I wish I knew ahead of time just how insecure I would start to feel regarding the compliments.
I started to question what people thought of me before I lost the weight because I very rarely received compliments on how I looked. When everyone was suddenly telling me how great I looked, I started to wonder about how I would feel if I gained the weight back. It would make me feel very insecure about how I looked.
The above photo shows my weight loss in 10 pound increments, starting at 253 in the top left and going clockwise, ending in the middle.
I know that people had good intentions, and I appreciated the compliments so much--it felt great that people noticed and recognized my hard work, and it kept me wanting to keep going. It just left a little nagging thought in my mind about being extra careful not to gain the weight back.
Once I got to a certain point in my weight loss--it was when I reached the 140's, actually--I had a bit of a breakdown. I felt completely panicked. Everyone had seen me drop over a hundred pounds, and they seemed to like me more (I know that is probably not true, but it's what was going through my head at the time). I started to think about what would happen if I gained the weight back (and statistically, there was a 95% chance I would).
I even started to wish that I'd never lost the weight in the first place.
I feared my relationships with friends and family would change if I gained the weight back; I feared that I'd never be able to maintain my weight; I feared that gaining it back would destroy me mentally.
I wish that I had known how much fear I would feel as I dropped more and more weight.
For a few weeks, this panic was deep in my gut and it gnawed at me. It was too late to turn back, is what I kept thinking. If I had only lost 10 pounds or so, I would not have felt this way; but once I got to the point where the weight loss was very noticeable, people would then
know if I was having a tough time because the gain would be just as noticeable.
I also got very scared about the number going down lower than I ever expected. The 140's were unbelievable to me (I hadn't weighed that little since I was in the fifth grade--and that was extremely overweight for a fifth grader, so I never enjoyed being that weight).
When I hit the 130's, I was completely in shock. I wasn't feeling panicky, like I did when I hit 149, but I was feeling like it was truly unbelievable. And I started to get excited about it. I was thrilled that I was approaching the weight that most of my "thin" friends were.
I finally felt like I just fit in (physically) when I was with others. For the first time in my entire life, I wasn't "the fat friend" that stood out when in a group. I loved that I blended in. I wasn't craving attention at all--I just wanted to be like one of them.
When I started losing the weight, and was actually sticking with my plan, I felt thrilled that I was doing it. After I lost the first 10 pounds, I excitedly asked Jerry to take a comparison picture so I could see the difference for myself.
And just like that, I was devastated when I saw the photos side by side. You couldn't see one bit of difference! I was
so disappointed, and I contemplated quitting trying to lose weight. I didn't feel like the sacrifices I was making were worth it.
I wish I had known that the way I looked wasn't the only change I had to look forward to.
I shouldn't have felt disappointment--I should have felt proud that for once in my life, I was doing something that was healthy for ME. And I was feeling better. There were several non-scale changes that I should have been proud of instead of fretting over the fact that the weight loss wasn't visible yet.
When I got under 200 pounds or so, I became very rigid about my eating plan. I was following Weight Watchers' Points system, and I was meticulous about counting my Points, weighing my food, etc. I was
so determined to keep dropping the weight that I didn't want anything to stop me.
In retrospect, I wish I hadn't been so strict.
There were several parties or events that I feel like I missed out on because of it. For example, my wine club would get together once a month to try different wines and pair them with food. Unless I knew exactly how many points were in things, I avoided them. I wouldn't eat things like homemade cookies because I didn't know all of the ingredients and therefore, the number of Points it contained.
I wish I'd have known that estimating the number of Points (or calories) was totally okay, and wouldn't affect my weight loss much (if at all).
As I lost weight, I became closer with several friends who I started having more in common with (Renee, for example, because I'd started running halfway through my weight loss; we had conversations about running and races.)
I wish I had known how much my weight loss would affect my friendships.
On the other hand, I became more distant with other friends. Some people were clearly jealous, which made me sad. I wasn't trying to do anything other than improve myself. These "friends" would come up with lots of reasons I should stop what I was doing. When I got down to about 165 pounds, some of them would even tell me that I was "too skinny" and I should put some of the weight back on.
My sister and I were never very close before--she is eight years old than me, and she moved to Illinois when I was in my early 20's. She's my polar opposite--thin and curvy, blond hair, extroverted. When I was losing a lot of weight, she started calling me frequently to see how it was going. I had always looked up to her, and I was so excited that she was showing interest in my life. She was super supportive.
This is why, then, I became very insecure as I continued to lose weight. I worried that if I gained the weight back, my sister and I wouldn't be close anymore.
I wish I had known how much my weight loss would affect my close relationships.
As far as my marriage, Jerry was complimenting me more and more frequently. He had always complimented me often, even when I was at my heaviest; but as I got thinner, I could tell that he liked my new figure better. And I began to fear that I would never feel pretty to him again if I gained the weight back.
I wish I had known how much more there was to weight loss than smaller jeans.
As I've written above, there is a LOT that I wish I had known before I started losing the weight. The biggest is the constant fear of gaining it back. I wish I was able to shove that out of my mind, but that fear is so ingrained in my brain that it just may be there forever.
There were several positive things I learned along the way, though, too. Like I wrote above, I learned to make peace with the scale and the small gains that come frequently. I learned that enjoying life is worth far more than the number on the scale, and I won't miss out on things for fear of gaining weight. I learned that the number on the scale is only one small measure of success; there are so many other benefits to losing the weight.
It's been nearly seven years since I lost 125 pounds. As I've stated, I keep learning new things about weight loss and maintenance (and even weight gain). When I first started losing weight, I expected it to be a simple process (not *easy*, but simple)--drop the weight, and reap the benefits. There are so many emotions that go along with weight loss, and even though a lot of them were unexpected for me, I'm glad to have experienced them!