When I first joined Weight Watchers, I did it wrong. Instead of learning to control my portions and “eating my activity points,” I eliminated most food altogether. I let myself get out of control. I hurt my body, and I didn’t learn anything—especially not the right way to eat. In less than a year I had lost nearly 100lbs. But, it slowly (and surely) crept back up.
Ever since high school, I’ve fluctuated. I’ve been as high as 254 and as low as 152. When I moved back home from Korea this summer, I was shocked that I had gained about 40lbs in the two years I was there. I’m not at my highest, thankfully, and I definitely DON’T want to get back there. So, I dragged Jason to a meeting.
We joined in September, and it’s been a bit of a struggle. I know that it works, and really it’s just me standing in my own way.
I think it really does take a village—a village to raise a child, and a village to support one another in our self-improvement quests. Heck, four of my closest friends (two of which can be read here and here), in addition to Jason, do Weight Watchers, and another one is considering it.
So, today Jason and I went to our WW meeting, begrudgingly. I am proud to report that HE had a loss. I, on the other hand, didn’t fair quite as well: a nearly 3lb gain. I haven’t had a loss in a month, officially, and I blame the holidays. I blame myself.
It’s time to turn over a new leaf…
We are cracking down, Jason and I that is. Holding each other accountable, however excruciating that is likely to be. I am great at helping others, bad at helping myself…accepting help. So again, I defer to the village, which consists of individuals, some of whom I know and love, and others I have never met, but whose words resonate in me. I need it, even if it doesn’t need me as much. Even if it can hold its own—I need it.