Wednesday, October 8, 2014

225

225.

That's my weight right now. It's a nice round number.

It's 25 less than it was a year ago, but that 25 pounds lost has made a tremendous difference in how I feel. 225 feels better to me than 250 did. I have more energy and my pants fit the way I like.

One of the things that I find so fascinating about our society is our obesssion with weight. We talk about dieting, the best foods to make us lose weight, the best times to eat to lose weight. We discuss celebrity diets, friend's diets, diets we read about and try, and diets we wouldn't try for all of the money in the world.

But rarely do we mention the actual number.
Most people don't want anyone to know the actual number.

I have watched my mother diet my entire life. She has turned down more desserts than I can remember, and spent weeks on end eating nothing but fat free turkey sandwiches on fat free(and nutrition free) white bread. She has measured her food, eaten diet dinners galore, and subsisted on diet shakes. She goes to the gym, goes to Weight Watchers, and dutifully writes down every bit eaten into her little blue notebook.

Every family gathering begins with the conversation about who has gained weight, who has lost weight, and what diets they are using. I remember one year where Thanksgiving dinner was fat free turkey slices with lowfat canned gravy(yes, its as disgusting as it sounds), instant mashed potatoes with fake butter, and chunks of baked pumpkin instead of pumpkin pie.
My father took pity on us and took us to Hardees so we could have burgers for Thanksgiving.


The funny thing is this: She still looks exactly the same to me as when she started. Exactly.

She has spent the last 36 years losing and re-gaining the same 30 pounds.

And she has never, ever told anyone what she weighs. The number she obsesses over is a number that nobody will ever know. She's too ashamed to tell anyone the number.

Kinda silly, isn't it?