Pot Pies aside, I have a newly developing theory. I'm still fine tuning this theory, but it goes like this:
Diet = Karma.
Not quiet E=MC2, but close enough to rock 'n roll.
I'm 51 now. When I was 21, I was on a diet to GAIN weight. I am not kidding. This was before bulemia or anorexia, which was good, because I'm sure my mother would've been right there insisting I had one of these diseases. I didn't. I certainly don't now, even if I had, which I didn't. I simply wasn't interested in food. So my doctor set me up on a 3,000 calorie a day diet. After a month, I gave up. I simply could not eat that much food daily! Oh woe was me. Meanwhile, most of my friends and one of my sisters were life members already of the Sisters of Perpetual Dieting. I had no concept of what they were going through. And (here's where Karma began to take notice) I would intentially do rotten, torturess things like eat whatever I wanted (cake, pie, CHOCOLATE) and as much as I wanted right in front them KNOWING THEY COULDN'T. Ha Ha Ha!! Karma hates this sort of thing you know.
Then, at around 27, the clock struck 10pm. My metabolism when from 100mph to about 35mph overnight. I gained weight! Oh joy! I was thrilled. Finally! And I discovered food was good (I know, DUH!) about that same time. I continued to bask in the Dietless wildnerness. Happy with my extrra 20 pouncs (yes, I was THAT much under weight!)
Karma, meanwhile, had not forgotten the indescretions of my youth. Karma does that. It just lies in wait, and then one day, when you least expect it, WHAM. Karma smites thee (me). The clock, for me, struck eleven about 9 years ago when I had to have a partial hysterectomy. I gained more weight. Karma was now giggling. I on the other hand, was baffled. What do you mean I can't eat that? I've ALWAYS eaten that! Lots of that! And that too! Oh yeah (says Karma) go ahead. Ha Ha Ha!! Damned Karma.
Midnight struck right along with menopause. Do you have any idea how hard it is to battle Karma AND Menopause? Alone they are formidable. Together (coupled with the partial hysterectomy), weight gain is no longer a laughing matter to anyone BUT Karma. I still have no clue how to deal with this body that thinks it's a fat warehouse. Stupid body. Stupid Karma. Okay. I promise not to tease anyone EVER again about food they can't eat. So can I have my old metabolism back? Please?
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2 comments:
I would love to have EVER had a metabolism like your old one, Sue!
I am a charter member of the Sisters of Perpetual Dieting.
I have to admit, though, during the last 10 years I have also had a revelation. For as long as I can remember, at every stage of my life since hitting puberty, I thought I was fat.
Now, when I look back at those pictures of me
- in the microscopic bikini I sewed myself at age 16 (just to wear in the back yard to get the maximum tan!),
- in high school where I never had a date,
- in college, wearing huge bibbed overalls I probably couldn't squeeze into today,
- as a young working mother juggling children, marriage, and career,
I realize ... at each stage of my life, I had NO IDEA what FAT really felt like. Yet.
My biggest fear is that, 10 years from now, I'll be thinking the same thing about the ME that exists right now.
How do I stop thinking this way, and just enjoy where I am right NOW?!?!?
We're always that little kid deep inside and there's a nasty little voice programmed into us that tells us we will never be pretty enough / thin enough / anything enough. We'll never be good enough. Isn't it a shame that the little kid in us lives with that nasty voice? How do we ignore it? I don't know. Why is it so easy to believe the nasty voice and not the evidence in pictures or a mirror? I don't know. Personally, I like looking at pictures of Rita Hayworth and Marilyn Monroe. Anorexia NEVER got a toe hold there and they were beautiful women. Develop an appreciation for Rembrandt's nudes. Hang a few around the house. You're a beautiful woman Sharon. Inside as well. Be proud of who you are today. You're wonderful and beautiful and a loving mother and wife and friend.
(I remember those bib overalls, BTW! And the boys in your high school were STOOPID.)
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