A Lie of Omission is Still a Lie

 

Right up front I want to tell you that I have been thinking about writing this post for quite a while.  Part of the reason it took so long could be blamed on the rush to finish up all the last minute holiday tasks - the cooking, baking, cleaning, decorating, yet another trip to the grocery store, wrapping, visiting neighbors, and an outing to see the light displays with family and friends.  Yeah, sure.  I was busy.  But the real truth of the matter as to why I was reluctant to put this in writing, is that I really messed up.  Not in just a little way.  In a big way.  It was hard to admit this to Sam, and it is hard to admit this to all of you.

For the last 2 years, Sam has helped me to reach a healthy weight and maintain it.  For those who may just be visiting my blog for the first time, let me reiterate that his attention to this as HOH was at my request only.  He could care less what I weigh.  It is me who cares.  I was a person who binged on certain foods, especially sweets.  Just pass me the M & Ms and no one will get hurt.

For years I struggled to lose weight and keep it off.  I would have a bit of success and then pile it all back on.  Spent a ton of money at Weight Watchers but never achieved the practical goals I set.  Spent a ton of time on self-loathing.  So Sam is my coach, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I have managed to stay at my goal weight for 2 years now.  That has never happened before in my whole adult life.    

It is definitely easier for me now.  I make most of the decisions about what am eating with never consulting Sam at all.  I think ahead so that I keep to just a good, healthy eating plan for most of my week, but know that I am eating whatever I want for a dinner out with friends or a large piece of cake.  Still, Sam and I go over my food journal regularly, and I show him my weigh-in record once or twice a month.  If I feel myself starting to crave something when I am already full or because everyone else is digging in, we have a plan for me to talk to, text, email, or phone Sam so that it doesn't slip into mindless eating.  Some nights he will ask me why I am wandering back into the kitchen after dinner.  There have been times when I fall from grace.  Sam usually says, "Talk to me or talk to Mr. Paddle."  This is good for me, and I like myself the next morning on the scale.

So the last week at work was chock full of food and parties and pot lucks and gifts of the chocolate kind.  Smooth sailing - never fell off the wagon all week.  Everyone was looking forward to a 2 week holiday!  On the final day of work for 2015, my doctor gave me a present of a small box of chocolates - maybe 15 pieces and very fancy ones.  I put them on the counter at home, and Sam had one.  It is better for me not to even start on stuff like that because I do not stick to just one or two.

I was in a joyous "no more work for 2 full weeks" mood!  The first night I got into the candy, I really did think about talking to Sam.  Then I convinced myself that was silly.  I could certainly handle this on my own.  Just lifted 3 or 4 out of the container and sort of spread out the other ones.  But the next night, it happened again; I was in full binge mode.  Pretty quickly the box was empty.  "OMG," I said to myself, "this is the 'old' me."  The one I hated.

Right then and there, I should have 'fessed up.  I knew if I did, there would probably be a spanking.  Funny thing about ttwd.  Yes, I do want to be spanked, and no, I do not want to be spanked right now.  A Jekyll and Hyde conundrum.  I buried the candy box with all the little gold paper cups deep under the other trash.  Boy, was this the old me!

As Sam spooned me that night at bedtime, he asked if I had gotten into the candy.  There was a pause that was just a second too long.  It was dark, and he couldn't see my face.  "Maybe 3 or 4," I said evasively.  By this time I was digging the hole deeper and deeper.  I convinced myself this was not a lie; indeed, I had eaten 3 or 4 (or 10 or 12.)  

The next afternoon we were putting on coats to head outdoors.  He asked me where the candy was.  I managed to dodge this one, too.  "Hon, please grab that bin of glass, and we'll stop at the recycling center on our way."  He fell for it, and now I was sinking in quicksand up to my chin.  I was also feeling extremely guilty.  Just because I hadn't actually "lied," did this omission really mean I was "lily-white?"  It most certainly did not.

Back from errands and Sam just stopped me cold, "Go get the box of candy."  I couldn't even speak.  I just turned and walked to the bedroom.  I have never, ever asked for a spanking before, but I just returned with the paddle in my hand.  When he saw it, he had a confused look on his face that quickly became stunned when he realized what had happened.

"You lied to me about X@%&* candy?!?"  I honestly don't remember what expletive he used, but his face could now be described as just plain pissed off.  I felt awful.  I am always honest.  I tell Sam if I mess up on anything we consider a rule even if he would never find out.

He was right.  How could I have let something so dumb as chocolate lead me down a path that included lies?  Truly felt ashamed.  Like there was a scarlet letter on my chest.



The spanking that followed was one for the record books.  First, with real anger and disappointment in his voice, I was told to take off all my clothes.  This doesn't usually happen, and he knows I just hate it.  I did not hesitate, but there were tears starting to well up in my eyes.  Even though I could not help making some noise, I was

not in any way protesting the fairness of this consequence.  As the strokes fell, Sam blasted me verbally as well.  The candy wasn't the issue.  It was the lie and the lack of honesty.  He found it totally unacceptable.  "We have never been dishonest with one another.  Never," he said.  The tears fell, and I apologized over and over again.

When Sam finally lifted me up to hold me, he whispered in my ear how it was OK now and how much he loved me.  I hugged him very tightly and just didn't want to let go.  There is no typical, witty Ella conclusion to this post.  I just held on until I was sure the connection was back.  There will always be another time that candy gets the best of me.  There will never be another time I don't admit it.