I finally got on the scales a few weeks ago. As I feared, all that rich food was too much. I’d gained six pounds (2.7kg).
I have no one to blame for this but myself. It took me months to lose that weight but days to regain it.
I told myself I would post the update the same day.
I didn’t.
I went into a bit of a funk and felt miserable about myself. I know that posting here is generally just for me alone. I doubt anyone reads this blog but that is not the point. When I post an update it makes it real. I have publically said the truth. Which is why my unhappy brain went and let me forget.
I only thought about posting an update because I woke up in pain after long sleeping. I feared a red day (bad day) as my initial pain was seven out of ten. It settled down after I gave my neck some extra support and just waited. I am now just about on an okay day with danger of a bad day.
Anyhoo, I have had time to get some perspective on my failure and weight gain. Christmas was never going to be a feast of healthy eating. I can choose to feel miserable about it and kick myself. Or I can choose to forgive myself and get back to the task of not being such a massive fatty.
I chose to forgive myself but not before I spent far too long feeling like a failure; feeling like I can never do this. Because maybe I will never hit a “reasonable weight”. Maybe I will always be a tubby mo-fo. I’m okay with that because my weight is morally neutral. Being lighter does not equate with being a better person. The only thing weight loss does is make my clothes cheaper and easier to buy.
Being fat, I realised, is not a moral failing. It is an obstacle to dressing in the clothes I want. It is an exacerbation of my pain. It might even indicate that my lifestyle needs to be refined. Being the owner of a big fat arse is a hurdle not a moral.
Weight loss will never make me a better person. That’s what being kind and generous is for.
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