The Scales of Justice

I have been thinking about a subject for a post that centers on one of our rules.  The only thing is, it is not something I have ever seen mentioned on any of the blogs I've read, so I am a bit hesitant.  So was Sam when I first brought it up for discussion!  So here goes.

Controlling my weight has been hard for me my whole life long.  It's up - It's down - It's way up!  I have tried all sorts of diets, books, CDs, doctors, and of course, Weight Watchers.  How much have I lost?  Probably 500 lbs!  One night after falling off yet another diet, I burst into tears.  Sam was quick to comfort me as he always does.  After the tears slowed, I started to talk about an idea I had for being held accountable about my weight.  Sam objected immediately!

"No way!" he said.  "You are just perfect the way you are.  You are beautiful to me."  (I do love when he says that.)  I asked him to hear me out.  We curled up on the couch together.  I reviewed how I struggle with my weight and how my failures make me feel so awful about myself.  Sam was listening but still shaking his head like no - absolutely not.  When I continued, I changed course and started adding up how much of our money I had wasted on Weight Watchers dues and special foods and drinks and books and fat clothes and skinny clothes and who knows what else.

Yes, I finally had his attention.  MONEY BEING WASTED?  "Just how much money?" he asked and his brow furrowed.  So I estimated how much I thought had been wasted over the previous 18 months, because I didn't stick to it.  Any of you who have ever attended Weight Watchers meetings know that if you reach your healthy weight goal, you don't have to pay anymore.  Easy, huh?  Not really.  I had been paying for so long, they should have added on a memorial "Chubby Ella" wing to the building.

So a new rule was born that very night.  Every week after weigh-in, if I had to pay, then I was going to "pay" when I got home, too.  And these spankings were damn serious; we are talking hairbrush applied with gusto.  You can bet I stuck to my sensible foods and portions.  Six weeks was all it took to get back to goal weight.  Every Monday night we went over my food diary/tracker and discussed how I did.  I felt SO proud when Sam would gather me up in his arms and tell me how great I was doing.  And he still does.  He won't let me go any lower for fear his favorite target might get too small.

Before vacations, we set a certain number of pounds I can gain, so that I can treat myself to whatever foods I want.  But there is always accountability.  I have a certain number of weeks to get back to goal or there are consequences.  There are no more M & M binges  No more falling off the wagon just because there is another pot luck at work.  If we are planning to go out, I will actually plan ahead and drop a pound or two prior the the special occasion.  If we are heading to my favorite pub on a weekend, I can still have 2 pints of my special draft IPA.  So yummy! 

There are still times when I slide back into my old ways but not nearly as often.  When that happens it is entered in my journal, and Sam is there to decide if I just need a little encouragement to get back on track or a serious reminder.  Sam does not keep track of what I eat or drink.  I do and I have learned to manage my weight in a much more sensible way.

Never in my whole adult life have I maintained a healthy weight

for a year and a half.  My clothes fit well and I feel wonderful.  More than anything else, I have stopped hating myself.  It is the me I always wanted to be.  When people pay me a compliment about keeping the weight off or being able to turn down a piece of cake, I just smile and tell them I have an excellent diet coach.  I do not mention talking to Mr. Paddle.