So I'm Going to Lose Weight and Blog About It

Not that the concept about blogging about weight loss is ground breaking, or anything, but I have finally come to the place where I have decided it's going to happen for real.  And I'm not going to follow a "diet plan."  And I'm not going to follow an "exercise plan".  I'm going to try to lose weight by doing something new.  It's called Liking My Body.  Yep.  I really think that if I start to actually like the vehicle I was gifted when I was born, that maybe I'll start to take care of it naturally, and maybe, just maybe, my body will start to take care of me.

Let me tell you how I got here.

About three years ago, a girl in the ward I lived in introduced me to something called Dressing Your Truth.  I thought it sounded kind of cheesy.  I don't usually like things with titles like that.  I don't like talking about "your truth" and "your true self."  I don't know, it feels so hokey, so "lets-get-married-naked-in-the-redwoods-to-commune-with-nature-and-not-shave-our-armpits-or-legs"-ish.  It's not me.  I'm realistic. I'm practical. I'm normal.  So anything that discusses my truth...well, let's just say it sounded weird to me.

But then she talked to me about it. She told me how it had changed her life, and how she had realized that the things she didn't like about herself were her gifts.  Well, that didn't sound weird to me.  I mean, I've been raised to believe that through the Spirit of God that our weaknesses can become strengths. Isn't this was she was talking about, I thought?  Yes. And believe me, I knew I had plenty of weaknesses I would like to see magically vanish into strengths.

So I went home.  I googled Dressing Your Truth. I watched the free videos that were sent to me everyday to help me "find my truth" so then I could proceed to "dress my truth."  I was skeptical.

I found myself being prompted to buy into the program.

I know.  I KNOW. Totally out of character for me.

 I'm thoughtful. I'm smart. I think things through. I weigh pros and cons. I don't just buy expensive dressing programs on a whim.  There is only one other time when I did something so totally out of character for me, and that was when I got engaged to my husband after dating for three weeks, and married him within 4 months of our first date.

I KNOW!  Who does that?  Not me.

Usually.  But when I got engaged to my husband, I knew I should do it, and the same feeling came over me when I saw those Dressing Your Truth videos.  And well, getting married to my husband has worked out pretty well, so I thought, why not? and purchased the program.

Fast forward three years.  Dressing Your Truth has been fun. My fashion and my makeup style are great. And all those weaknesses?  Well, it turns out that your weaknesses don't magically turn to strengths, like I thought (I imagined I would suddenly stop being a big mouth and start being a quietly spiritual person).  No, instead, Dressing Your Truth changed my perspective about those weaknesses, and taught me how to use those things I didn't like to bless others.

I wasn't so hard on myself about my personality and my parenting style.  I started to accept those gifts I didn't like before.  My wardrobe and makeup were better. But I still wasn't totally happy with my station in life, and particularly my body, especially after having my last baby. I wanted that total happiness and acceptance of my body that so many women in the Dressing Your Truth community talk about, and I just wasn't finding it.

Finally, earlier this year, I decided I needed to be proactive about my happiness.  I read some books, a few by Carol Tuttle, and I prayed a lot. About a month ago, I received what I believe was my answer to all my prayers.

I was in the bathroom, following my daily routine: Looking at my outfit and berating my body for it's appearance. My internal monologue went something like this:

"Geez.  I am so fat. It's not fair. Why can't I have a body that bounces back from pregnancy like everyone else? It's not fair that I have to give up carbs just to lose a few pounds. Stupid native american genes. Stupid floppy skin. Stupid fat..." and on and on and on.

Suddenly, a thought came to my mind so incredibly loud, it surprised myself. That thought was so loud and forceful that I couldn't help but stop and pay attention.  It said, "What the hell do you want from me?  I've carried you through your life for 33 years--THIRTY-THREE YEARS--with basic good health. I've grown three PERFECT BABIES for you.  THREE PERFECT BABIES! I digest your food, I filter out all the crap you insist on eating, and I am strong enough to get you through your day so you can hug and kiss the THREE PERFECT BABIES I GREW FOR YOU. And still it's not enough.  Go to hell!"

My body apparently has a potty mouth, but who can blame it?  It was pretty pissed. I had done nothing but bitch and moan about my body since the time I was ten and my body developed breasts earlier than I thought it should have. My body did grow and deliver three perfect babies for me, and all I did was tell it that all that effort wasn't enough. My body has kept me pretty dang healthy all these years, and I kept telling it how stupid it was. I would be pretty pissed at my boss, too.

It occurred to me that I was meaner to my body than I would ever be to any other person. I would never, for example, accept a 12 page, perfectly researched, perfectly written research paper from one of my students and then say, "A red folder?  I thought it should be blue. Stupid red folder. Why couldn't you have picked a blue one. It would have made your paper so much better, you big dummy." But that's what I was doing to my body. I was accepting its perfect gifts and then berating it for not looking like what I thought it should.

Never once had I said thank you. Never once had I told my body that it was enough. Never once had I thought that my body served me well. Yeah.  I deserved the butt-chewing I got. I vowed from that day on that I would start to thank my body, and accept it no matter what.

But 23 years of hatred doesn't heal so easily. So that's where I am today. For the last month, I've been trying to find ways to help me change my mindset, to start to thank my body and accept and love my body. Maybe then, if I just love the way it looks and am grateful for the functions it preforms everyday, maybe it will start, you know, functioning better. Maybe if I actually liked my body, I would give it food that it liked, instead of food that I liked. Maybe if I liked my body, I would work a little harder to give it the activity it craved. Maybe, if I loved my body, just maybe, my body would heal itself and be fit and healthy, just because it knows it is loved and appreciated.

So that's what I'm going to blog about. How I'm striving to love my body everyday, and seeing if loving myself, appreciating my body for the miraculous vehicle it is, makes a difference. I've tried Weight Watchers, MD Diets, Insanity workouts, Zumba, jogging, Atkins, the Insulin Resistance Diet, and I'm still in the same place.  I might as well give actually liking myself a shot.

Welcome to my journey,