I have struggled with my weight since I was a teenager. Okay, looking back, I wasn’t remotely fat. However, I had morbidly obese aunts on my paternal aide and a maternal great-grandmother I never knew with obesity issues. This caused my parents to be scared at the least hint of weight on my part. I always assured them that I would not be obese due to my love of clothes. That being said at one low point in my life, I weighed about 50 pounds more than I do now! I am about 30 down from when I joined SP. I weigh the least I have in my adult life. I find it funny that I obsess now if I go up 2 pounds and I literally feel and see it.
This year, for the first time, I have been referred to as tiny. I find this difficult to wrap my mind around.
This week I did a tea party with people I’ve never met. I wore my little Boho thrift shop find dress. It says it is a size 4 but that’s a manufacturer vanity lie. Anyway, I walked (relative term) into the house and the host and her sister exclaimed that I was “adorable” and “so tiny”. I guess it must be true. I do not, do not perceive myself as tiny but am thinking I may need to rework that assumption.
Adorable was problematic for me as well. Egads, I have entered little old ladydom!
What else did I learn/ reflect?
Well, the reason that I finally achieved tinydom was because of my condition. It’s not a diet. I have changed the way I eat for health reasons. Wait! Isn’t that why people diet? For me, it was the realization that what I eat impacts how I walk and possibly the progression of my condition. If I am doing it correctly and completely, I do not have, gluten, eggs, yeast, dairy, red meat and sugar and very low fat. The reality? Even if I limp for the rest of my life, I am gonna have that chocolate. I do need to get back on a stricter track as I feel and see my deterioration. I am a fighter.
The host’s sister was diagnosed in the last year with another version of my diagnosis. Mine is supposed to be a continual path of deterioration; hers can come and go. It was great to physically speak with someone who gets it. But also what I realized is that I may be made of sterner stuff. My parents NEVER accepted anything a doctor said as gospel. I went to Johns Hopkins and was exposed to pre-meds so know that clay feet are a step up for some of these people. I persevere. I saw this woman as giving in. Yes, I get fatigued. Yes, I get discouraged and upset. We pulled up to this woman’s house and I freaked. There was a small flight of steps going in. Once in the house, which was beautiful and charming and originally built in the 1920’s, there was a step but no railing into the main part of the house. It was about 2 inches but I needed help. In the main area, there was a minute saddle dividing the area. Luckily, I saw someone else trip so I didn’t need to fall on my face. I definitely felt I was getting the little old lady treatment by the guests. I know, I know I should be grateful but there’s that issue of perception again. I still think of me as that young, vibrant woman instead of a vibrant, older lady with mobility issues.
I also realized that attitude means a lot. I have down days and yesterday, I pretty much couldn’t move due to the expending of physical and psychic energy the day before. But I continually fight. I believe in the possibility of miracles. It makes a difference.