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Happy To Be Me

Categories: The Good, The Fat and The Hungry, Diet & Weight Loss


Welcome to the Good, the Fat and the Hungry. I'm Karla and I have been -- or am -- all those things. Here, I will share with you my lifelong struggle with my weight, and I hope you'll follow along on with my determined attempt to lose the last 40 pounds. I promise to tell you every Wednesday about every win and setback along the way.

A few weeks ago I woke up in the quiet of my home and suddenly realized that in that moment, I was perfectly content. I awoke with no aches or pains, a little cash in the bank and my bills paid. Everything I need, I have. I lay in bed a few minutes longer simply to relish the sound of quiet and the realization that my life is more than alright, it's darn near great.

Of course, I couldn't lay long. This is New York, and there's always work to be done. As I got up to prepare for a quick pre-work jog, another realization set in. For the first time in my life, I like me, physically. When I set out on the path to lose weight, getting to a magic number was never my aim. I had established milestones that mattered to me, but surprisingly, no magic number. My doctor had another idea. He did have a magic number -- 160 pounds.

He's a doctor, so what else could I do but accept his number. I've held that number in high esteem for three years. I have stepped on the scale a thousand times and watched in excitement as I get closer and closer to 160. Today, I am within 15 pounds of seeing it light up on the scale. All this time, I've waited for the day. I've never lost sight of the goal my doctor set. However, does the magic number supersede my current happiness about my physical self? Am I forced to continue on to my doctor's goal when I'm already satisfied?

If you were to ask my doctor, he would be adamant that 160 pounds is my ideal weight. He'd run off the stats about my BMI (body mass index) and all the reasons this number is golden. Ask me, and I will say that I'm fine right where I am. I'm not so sure that 160 is for me. I'm a size 12 on bottom and size 10 on top and have satisfied my final personal milestone. Thin was never my goal. I'm a southern girl, and hips and thighs do not offend me.

Being at opposite ends of the spectrum on my weight poses a serious conflict between the doctor and me. It also promotes an inner conflict. Do I stop where I am because I'm content or do I continue on to meet my doctor's goal? If I stop now, does that make me a failure? These are not questions I can answer today, but they are ones that I ponder. I look in the mirror and am pleased with my reflection. I am happy that I can run up subway stairs with ease, cross my legs and move about without pain. No doubt my doctor is the more knowledgeable party in the debate, but that doesn't matter. I am happy with me. I will continue on the weight-loss path but the importance of the number will still be in the background. Front and center will be happy and confident me, loving and embracing right where I am today.

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