Sunday, July 24, 2011

Goodbye, fat, it's been real

So, I know it's not exactly a surprise to everyone, but...... I'm fat.


There, I said it.  

It wasn't too hard.

It's the word that makes me bristle every time I hear it used in conversation, as I awkwardly wait for that moment.  

That horrible suspended moment when someone, be it friend or stranger or acquaintance, hones in on the fat girl in the room and, backpedaling says something canned like, 

"But, not you, you're beautiful inside and out."


Uuuuuuuugggggh.


I have been curvy for most of my life.  I've been teased, taunted, encouraged to diet, pigeon-holed, (because, don't you know all fat people got there by eating a tub of fried chicken and pork rinds every night?), and told flat-out that I am fat.


Honestly, it is astounding to me the entitlement that people feel in informing one of one's fat status.  

As if it's not on my mind constantly: creaking knees or painful joints, having to shop in over-priced plus-size stores, worrying about fitting into an airplane seat, not being able to keep up with my sweeties, fretting about wobbly belly exposure or ham hock arms.


I have been told by my fourth grade crush that I needed to go on Slimfast....Oh, and also by that jerko shop owner in the Old City peddling his wares....  BRUTAL, I tell you, just brutal.

I have been told by a David's Bridal consultant...wait, scratch that...my mother has been told in front of me, loud enough for me to hear, "We don't carry dresses in her size."

I have been informed all throughout India that I shouldn't eat, that I should try ayurvedic medicine to lose weight, that I was just too big.


I've been stared at, ogled, whispered about and pitied.


And, believe it or not, I survived a severe eating disorder.  After a calorie-tracking assignment in high school freshman health class, I starved and puked my way to a size I thought was more beautiful. 


Although much time has lapsed since that chubby high schooler, and much healing has taken place, self-hatred and criticism lingered into my adulthood.  No person, no relationship, no magic pill could remedy the wounded girl hidden under these layers of flesh until I accepted my place as a child of God.

Our semester in Israel provided much time for thoughtful reflection, soaking in the grace of such a holy land which only encourages one toward deeper gratitude for the life we are given.  And, I tell you, more and more I began to admit there are some pretty kick-ass gifts God has given me.  

I can cook a mean meal, I sew, I sing, I play, I nurture, I induce laughter, I am a good friend, I bring people together, I have a unique sense of style, I give great back rubs, I am (in Kev's words) an awkward-diffuser, I teach, I intuit, I crochet, I read at a mad pace, I photograph and capture beauty.


Little by little, and with Kevin's encouragement, I began to see some parts of my physical body that are beautiful.  My almond eyes, my clear skin, my hair, my smile.


At the end of our time abroad, I was blessed to take an overnight retreat with the French Benedictine sisters at Abu Gosh, one of my favorite places in the world.








 It was there, amongst the lovely men and women who dedicate their lives to Christ, that I realized.


Who am I to deny my intrinsic beauty, as a creature of God?



~~~~~~~


Flash-forward.  Now, let me say this. 

I am not a junk-food addict.  

I have not spent my life inhaling Big Macs and apple pies. 

In general, we have eaten decently as a family. 

Not to be used as an excuse, but I do have hypothyroidism which complicates weight management.  I also have PCOS,  endometriosis and fibromyalgia.


Wow, that's tough seeing it all spelled out like that.


Though it has been a constant source of humiliation and pain in my life, for various reasons, I haven't made losing weight a huge priority.


That is until I recently ended up in the ER with abdominal pain so severe I felt like I was in labor.  Talk of gallbladder problems and fatty liver issues kicked my tuckus in gear and my Dead Poets Society gumption pushed me to Carpe that there Diem (How weird is it that Robin Williams also starred in the film adaptation of Saul Bellow's novella Seize the Day?  The book is better than the film. -KJH).


Here's the thing.  I have tried many diets/lifestyle changes/workout strategies.  I have lost weight and gained it back umpteen times. 

Never in my life, never, have I felt everything is in sync:
a).  I am convinced of the immediacy and urgency of losing the weight.
b).  Because of a). I have the motivation and discipline
c).  I finally found a program (Weight Watchers) that I feel I can and actually want to do for the rest of my life.  

Honestly, it's as if a switch has been thrown inside me and I can see this body as a gift to be tended and nurtured.  It's almost like a game to see how much healthy food I can work into each meal.  And treats are treats, not daily occurrences.


Today, as Jacob and I talked about healthy living, snacking on our kale chips and fresh-picked blueberries, I was overcome with emotion.





I cried, because I do this not only for me, but for Kevin and Jacob and Ceci and all those whom I love.


He wrapped his arms around me saying, 
"Mama, you are the best, best mama in the whole wide world.  You are sooo beautiful."  


And you know what?  


I believed him.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Photo ode to Maine, Mourning Gramps

Our week in Maine was just amazing.  The weather was beautiful, most of the family was able to come, and we had innumerable moments of beauty.  From lobster lunches to tubing,  splendid sunsets to viewings of The Room, lazy afternoons and chats by the victrola, 'twas a true respite from the workaday.  Whenever we return to Maine, after almost 20 years of coming, it truly feels like home.







































































































Little did we know that, amongst chats about reality TV stars or anecdotes about Grammy, this would be our last visit with Gramps. 

Harvey Joseph Humphrey, Sr, my grandfather, passed away on Friday night.  He lived a life full of many adventures, many heartbreaks and many loved ones.


 Gramps, we'll miss your twinkling blue eyes and hooting laugh as you drop into the lake.  We'll miss your thick Boston accent and knowledge of all things mechanical.

Though we may have had differences and disagreements, I am forever thankful for your presence in my life.  You are the only grandfather I have known, and you have taught me of loyalty, devotion, faith, marriage, how to make a pot of coffee stretch and the importance of family.

I love you, Gramps.