Weighing the consequences

For the past few weeks I've been struggling with the desire to write a real post ("real" being defined as 1. more than a mobile update and 2. an honest account of the current state of affairs) while feeling self-protective.

Some days I wonder if this blog is a good idea. I'm not a bare-my-soul to strangers type of gal by nature. I'm generally preemptively-protective, concerned about my reputation and the capacity of others to use my experiences against me, more likely to reveal less about myself and ask more about the other person. Yet, I started this blog two years ago and while my motivations may have changed slightly over the last two years, I find myself resonating with one of my original intentions: to share my process with weight so that I could create accountability for myself. Over time, I have also come to value this space as one that has spurred commentary in others. Interestingly, most folks who have read this blog and felt personally touched have emailed/messaged me individually instead of commenting on the blog. Few people have signed up as readers though I've been told that they're reading this. This lends me to think about why and leads me to identify a discovered motivation for writing this blog AND one of the main reasons I'm finding it difficult to write a "real" post: shame.

We all know that weight-related issues, eating disorders, exercise patterns, and weight itself are common conversations, especially for women. Our magazines are filled with commentary on weight-loss plans to "drop pounds fast!" and exercise routines to "blast belly fat" and "create lean lines". We are less desirable as new hires if we are overweight. If we are obese and happen to pick up a candy bar at the grocery store checkout aisle or drive-thru the Dairy Queen for a cone, we risk derisive commentary for strangers. Twisted faces and loud whispers about our weight, our size, our choices. Or, as I experiences this past April when picking out a couple of desserts from the Roche Bros bakery counter, a passive-aggressive tirade from a middle-aged white man on the addictive effects of sugar. Really. He must have thought that I don't listen to NPR.

There's a lot of shame attached to weight. You could say that weight weighs heavily on many of us. Not all. I have met some amazing fat-positive people, and I admire many of them and oft wonder how they manage to hold their framework in the face of such anti-fat social commentary. But for the rest of us we're held in check by shame.

I've often wondered why weight is difficult for me. I'm accomplished in other areas. Scholastically I've succeeded in achieving two Master-level degrees. I anticipate a PhD someday. I am accomplished in my work. I create strong relationships. I have a solid partnership with my wife. Why can't I crack this weight thing? No matter how I frame this issue as a "process" and convince myself that it's okay to tread slowly through weight-loss and maintenance, I too feel shamed. Shamed that today, I'm 10lbs heavier than I was at the end of May before my wedding. Shamed, that 18 months after joining WW the last time, I've only lost 25lbs (mainly because of my 10lb weight gain. I was down to 35 lbs lost). Shamed that I've not figured this out yet. Shamed that I need to admit that, still.

But, this shame is also one of my found motivations for writing this blog. I want to break down shame for others by sharing my story. I am sad that most folks do not comment and instead message me privately. I'm sad that I don't have many public followers (though this may also be because my posts are not that interesting!). But, for those few I know are reading and the ones that have been in touch and are struggling with this issue too, I want to break that silence open. And, I suppose that if that means I shame myself in the process a bit then so be in. Perhaps I can reframe the shaming consequence as a lesson in humility.