In this issue:

In this issue, we take a lighthearted look at the complicated emotions that go along with how honest we are about weight loss or weight gain and have a heart-to-heart about self-image. Explore why Michelle loves vintage cameras so much, and learn about the resource that was the inspiration for this blog.

 

 

Podcast

Inspired Life: Getting Honest with the Scale

In this issue, I want to lighten it up a little while staying true to my mission of inspiring and encouraging readers. Let’s chat a little about getting real. Some of you got through Christmas and then realized you were going to have to kick it into gear in the New Year and get rid of the Christmas cookies and buckeyes and fudge that are gone from the long-ago washed and put away candy trays and now residing on your back side.

If you’re like me when you decide to drop a few pounds – or fifty – you have had to get on the scale. Thus begins the games of leaning side to side, claiming water weight, and so on.

And then the scale moves. For. Real.

And some clothes start to fit.

You wonder if anyone will notice, but you don’t really want anyone to notice.  Let me explain.

It’s great when friends rejoice with us.

Unfortunately, it is more likely that someone—typically someone about your size who has no intention of dropping any pounds—will look you up and down and then accuse, “You’re losing weight, aren’t you.”

It’s uttered with the same tone someone might use to say, “You stole money from my wallet, didn’t you!”

By the time I get back in my skinny jeans (like as in lower size and not what we now call skinny jeans), they might be back in style again. Those stonewashed, pleated, belly-button-high jeans are coming back. I saw some at Target the other day.

So back to the story. This is when my insecurity begins to kick in.

I have discovered that once some moderate weight-loss takes place, people begin to gush and carry on about how great we look. For some people this would not be a problem, but for me it’s where my more complex side comes out.

We like it when someone notices we’ve lost weight.

On the other hand, if someone says the smaller version of me looks fabulous, this would indicate I have looked like a water buffalo for the past six years.

When I gain twenty pounds does anyone say, “You’re getting really fat. What plan are you on?”

I am waiting for the opportunity to say, “Oh, I couldn’t be happier since discovering the South Beached Whale Diet.”

The Real You

Let’s just get real for a few minutes about hiding stuff. We have perfected the art of bluffing, counterfeiting, and playing games, and we do it so well that we have no idea where authenticity leaves off and the façade begins. Why is it so hard to be authentic?

I can’t even be honest with the department of motor vehicles! My driver’s license reflects my pre-baby weight from eighteen years ago. Mercifully, the tactful workers at the DMV never tell me I’m the fluffiest 134-pound woman they have ever seen.

I think we hide the truth, because it reminds us that there is more pain under the surface. The script in our head says: “You’re worthless,” they say, “Ugly. Flawed. Worthless.”

Perhaps your pain comes from years ago when someone caused you to be insecure about your physical appearance—your nose, your chin, your lack of curves, too many curves, your hair.

Whatever the source, we’ve packed away perceptions and ideals that make it difficult for us to be authentic with even those closest to us. It makes us skeptical of loving words and compliments, too. When someone says, “I love you,