Friday, January 15, 2010
Houston...we have a problem
All of my life I've felt like a big girl. Most of that time I wasn't actually fat, just (quite literally) big boned. I'm tall, I have a large frame and next to the average woman I look like someone hit the zoom in button. Just like the average woman only everything is bigger.
When I was in my early twenties I worked very hard on becoming OK with this. I told myself that I was never going to be small and petite. I wasn't ever going to be a pin up but I could be attractive in my own way. I worked really hard at that but while I was starting to feel better about myself the numbers on the scale were ever so slowly creeping up.
One of the side effects of being a larger person is that you have to gain 10 to 15 pounds before you really notice it in your body. I'd see that my weight was up 6 lbs and not be too worried about it because I knew that if I skipped lunch and danced all night it would go away. That worked for a long time. But while I was busy ignoring the actual numbers on the scale, I was developing some deplorable eating habits.
I loved getting late night gyros at Mon Cheri in Georgetown after dancing and drinking all night with my friends. The place would be packed with fellow drinkers and lively conversation always ensued. All this over some greasy "Lamb" and a pita. I also fell in love with Mountain Dew and Cheesy Puffs from 7-11. This was cheep and when I was broke, it was occasionally my diner.
Then I met my husband, a man who loves to analyze the various distinctions between domestic Cheddar, who glories in a good Steak Au Poirve and spent years developing a pasta dish based on one at his favorite restaurant. He was a foodie and I knew how to cook, it was a match made in heaven.
So I started cooking for him and over the years I've gotten pretty good. I've developed a few of my own recipes and I know how to make things taste good. The problem is that the way to make things taste good is to add salt and fat, usually butter. Really, is there anything better than that combo right there? We went to a restaurant in New York called Prune and were served the lowly radish with butter and sea salt, it was a revelation. Butter and salt can make anything good.
As babies have come into our lives and I no longer have that "no one besides your mother will love you if you get too fat" voice in my head to spur me to occasional starvation, the weight has crept up further than I thought was possible. And now, with two kids constantly demanding to be fed I find myself no longer able to pass myself off as just "big boned."
What's worse is that my compulsion to eat is getting stronger and harder to hide. When I was on my own I could curl up with a box of donuts and a bottle of merlot without anyone noticing but now with a family I find myself turning my back on my kids while they eat lunch so that they won't see me scarf down a brownie.
My real addiction is Chic-fil-a. They have a drive through and people who speak English and say thank you for stopping at Chic-fil-a. They have sinfully delicious waffle fries and chicken fingers that are the awesome. I am disgusted with myself for pulling into the parking lot but I don't ever turn around and drive away.
And this brings me to my point. I've been saying that I want to loose weight for years but in truth that's not it. What I want to loose this year is the sick and twisted compulsion to eat, the urge to eat out of boredom , the urge to eat only things that will be bad for me. I want to loose the urge to self-destruct.
To that end I have decided to join Overeaters Anonymous when we get back from Wisconsin. They don't have a meeting that I can get to before the trip or I would do it then but better late than never I guess. This year I am deciding to confront my food and body issues in a way that I have never really done before. In admitting that this is something that needs fixing rather a simple opting out of the skinny olympics, I hope to finally get this monkey off my back and go back to simply being big boned.