"There is no failure except in not trying," Elbert Hubbard
I almost didn't blog today. It's because I skipped my weigh-in yesterday. I was tired. I was hungry. I wanted to spend time with my b/f. I was also nervous about what the scale would say.
I didn't have the mental strength yesterday to beat myself up for not going and I don't want to do that to myself today either. Instead, I turn to my blog and to all of you. I am accountable for my actions and in the end, I'm just hurting myself by not going or by giving up. (Important to note: I am not giving up!)
I don't believe in quick fixes but believe you me, there are days I wish it was possible. A little pill to shed away all those imperfections. A magic potion to swallow away excess pounds. But what would I have learned that way? I need to work hard to get this weight off. It's a mental and a physical challenge and journey.
While at dinner with the b/f last night, we ordered our entrees and I flipped through the dessert menu. I made mention that we should get something to go since we'd be too full to eat it at the restaurant but could have it later while watching a movie. He made some comment about how his grandmother used to always leave food on her plate so she could make room for dessert. I said that was a good idea. He said why order dessert when you're full. I said she probably left food on her plate so she wouldn't be full and could comfortably and guiltlessly enjoy some dessert too. He then said it's no wonder people are overweight when they eat even after they are full.
This last comment struck a major chord with me and I was very upset with his comment. Indirectly I felt it was aimed at me - it honestly wasn't. He was just talking about his grandmother being large and mainly because she constantly ate her way through life. All the way home I was quiet with him and seethed inside. The worst part is that I knew none of his comments were aimed at me. He loves me, adores me and thinks I'm perfect. Seriously. He supports me with WW because it's something I want to do for myself to feel good. He thinks I look fabulous all the time.
When I told him that his comment really bothered me, I thought he was going to start to cry over how upset he thought he had made me. He started telling me how I'm ridiculous if I ever thought anything other than how wonderful he thinks I am. Exactly as I am.
Moral of this story - go get weighed. Ha!