Thursday, November 1, 2012

What am I doing?

People do what they want to do.

At least, that's what my mother once said to me when I chose to do something other than come home from college for my Dad's birthday celebration.

It's a statement I have pondered over oh these many years.  I argue with it.  I tell myself, I don't always get to do what I WANT to do.  There are things I HAVE to do...where I don't have a choice.

But, ultimately, I think she was right.  I choose to do the things I don't want to do because I don't want the negative consequences that happen if I don't do those things.  So, technically, I'm doing what I want to do, even if I don't want to do it.

Yeah, I know.  It's confusing.  But let's assume for a moment that the statement is true.  People do what they want to do.  To personalize it and take responsibility for it...I do what I want to do.  So, if that's true, and I'm not losing weight right now, it must be because that's what I want.  I must want to treat myself here and have a little extra there.  I'm starting to understand that right now, I want to stay where I am, weight-wise.  I don't want to gain, but I don't want to lose either.  I want a break from the relentless pursuit for the next two-tenths of a pound weight loss.

Part of this wanting to stay where I am comes from that part of me that rebels against my worth being attached to my weight, or in this case, my weight loss.  I love that I feel better, look better, and that people compliment me on the accomplishment.  But at the same time, I wish we could talk about something else.  Being in the weight loss limelight (pardon the pun) wears thin sometimes.  I just want to be about more than my size.  It all gets confusing for me.

I'm sharing my confusion because I believe that all of us on this journey are struggling with this "doing what we want to do" question, even if we haven't thought about it in those terms.  It's like, there's this mental bridge we have get across to make it to the land of the normal weight people.  I'm standing at one end, afraid to step out over the abyss below the rickety rails.  My knees are weak.  Right now it feels safe to stay where I am.  For a while.  That's what I want to do.


1 comment:

  1. Since we already discussed this on the phone, I'll just tell you that I love you. :)


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