Bill and I were dressed in our Sunday finest...he in his Browns' jersey (Tim Couch, although he is no longer a Brown) and I in my Giants' jersey (Tiki Barber is my imaginary boyfriend). And we decided to pose up on the hill with our backs to the woods to have our picture taken. This is what one of those pictures looked like (let me say right here that it pains me to post this photo, but I think it's important for me to do so for reasons I will get to momentarily):
When I saw this picture, all I could think was, "When did I get so fat?" I look as if there is an entire spare tire resting around my waist. I look like a Weeble...or Humpty Dumpty. I certainly don't look like the person I see in my mirror every morning. Well, apparently, mirrors lie. However, photos tell a horrifying truth.
It was like a kick in the gut to look at this picture. I haven't stepped on the scale in a while because I have known that I would not like what I would see. I haven't been watching my eating at all, in spite of the fact that I am getting married IN 18 DAYS!!! Instead, I have been continuing my usual rather self-destructive pattern of living to eat, instead of eating to live.
Add to that awful wake-up call the fact that I picked up my wedding dress on Monday. I LOVE my dress, and in it I feel like a princess. It looks good on me as well, even though I am a little wider across the beam than I would like. But I think it would look even better if I could depuff a little and look a little less uncomfortable standing in it in front of the mirror. So off I went to Barnes and Noble, to buy some of those little pocket calorie count books, as well as a new food journal. I came home and dug out my Weight Watchers Points counter and food companion guide, and I have begun counting Points once again. I stepped on the scale this morning, and while the number wasn't as high as I feared, I can't believe I have let myself get to this point...and I can't wait to gain some control over it.
I cropped the picture and blew it up a bit to make it signature mat-ready. And there won't be any evidence of all that extra weight that I am carrying around when people see that picture. As for me? I will carry that picture with me to remind me that the mirror may be lying...but that photo certainly isn't.
It's a powerful lesson...now, just to learn from it.
8 comments:
OH, I hate that feeling. I did exactly the same thing before my wedding, if it makes you feel better - just ate ate ate ate ate. Why can't we be the types who lose their appetites during exciting and/or stressful times?
Besides, I think it's just the jersey. Those things are totally unflattering, unless, of course, you are a hot football player with a 6-pack stomach. Ooh. There are some hotties on the college circuit these days. Brady Quinn? Yum. Auburn guy whose name I forgot? Yummier.
I hate the photos can make you look fat. They lie or mirrors do, or whatever. You'll be beautiful, don't worry, but I totally know what you mean!
I agree with GG that it's the jersey. If the jersey stopped where your shirt stopped, it would be a whole different perspective. We girls can't expect something to go over our hips and bottom and somehow still be flattering.
Good luck with your point counting, though.
Good for you for taking control Mary! That's what matters and if it takes an unflattering picture to keep you motivated, put that thing in your purse, on your visor, tape it to the ice cream. Whatever you have to do to remember that it isn't where you want to be.
I have to agree that I think the jersey is most definitely more unflattering than necessary.
I just love your outlook and perspective on this.
I think you are beautiful just the way you are!
Those jerseys were not made for curves but I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times I've been on the verge of feeling I look okay and then I see a photo someone took and I'm mortified.
I try to focus on being healthier rather than the superficial aspect. I find it more motivating and less self defeating. I wish you well in your quest for wellness.
Wait a second. You threw up on a stranger in a bar? That warranted its own blog entry, I think... :)
Oops, and also, YES, it's the jersey! Those kinds are from SATAN! Also, um, your fiancee is freakin' attractive. Is that okay to say? (I deleted the first word I had there to try and show SOME respect...)
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