Weddingbee Blog

Image via Flickr / Photo by Donna Grayson

*Note: I’ve been composing this post on-and-off for weeks now trying to find the best approach to this topic. It not only touches upon the sensitive subject of weight, but it also brings up some unsettling memories for me. Everyone wants to look their best for the wedding day. However, that absolutely doesn’t translate into “needing” to lose weight. If you *want* to shed some pounds, though, there’s a “right” way and a “wrong” way to go about it. This story is about the latter.

The elusive lesson of self-love is one I’m still trying to embrace and learn to this day. It wasn’t until I learned to be happy with who I am that I could develop any sort of meaningful relationship (platonic or romantic). And, in full disclosure it caused a lot of problems along the way with Mr. Tartlet. When we first started dating I was so full of self-loathing that it drained his emotional reserves to crash my pity parties for one. We almost didn’t make it. To this day I’m incredibly thankful that he saw something in me that I didn’t, and stuck around to help me become a better person.

Most of my negativity stemmed from a poor, distorted body image. I’m intensely self-critical by nature and growing up nursed a bad habit of comparing myself to others, particularly to the media’s portrayal of “beautiful.” Throw in an abusive ex-boyfriend who constantly criticized my appearance, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Unrealistically I thought I should be “modeling” my own image after women who looked like this:

Image via mystyle

If this is how you look naturally, then that’s not the point. It’s just impossible for my body to look like this, and yet I was hung up on the fact that I couldn’t be 5 inches taller or have longer legs. It’s one thing to want to look pretty and sexy, but it’s an entirely different ballgame when it becomes your primary focus and you start hurting yourself to get there. Throughout high school and undergrad I struggled with a combination of anorexia/bulimia because what I saw when I looked at my body and what my body truly looked like were two completely different things. When I moved to Ann Arbor for grad school my issues manifested in the form of binge eating. I rapidly gained 40 pounds in a matter of months, and then for four years tried losing the weight using really, really unhealthy tactics (like purging). I’m not proud of this, and it still pains me to admit how disrespectful I was to my own body. It’s been a daily struggle these last two years, but in the process of evaluating my issues with weight I pinpointed a few key mental blocks:

I had an unrealistic goal for my body. The fact is, I’ll never have sculpted Michelle Obama arms no matter how many push-ups I do because that’s how my arms are. Blame genetics, but there’s no sense in beating yourself up over things you can’t change.

I was full of negative “fat” talk. I’ve become especially aware of this now that I have friends with children who are cognizant of what’s being said around them. What kind of precedent am I setting if I eat a normal-sized meal and then groan “ugh, I’m so fat!” in front of them? That, and I always recall my first, timid experience at the University rec center: I was drenched in sweat, laboriously working on an elliptical when two (in my mind) perfectly sculpted girls pranced by wearing next to nothing, paused in front of my machine and lamented: “Oh my God. My ass is so big.” “Seriously, I think I’ve gained 20 pounds from eating that burrito.” Discouraging? Yes. What did I do? I went out and ate a damn burrito, thankyouverymuch.

I was approaching weight loss as getting thin. Instead, I should have thought of it as getting healthy. I was surprised by what a big difference the change of mindset made.

I ate for the wrong reasons. This was my biggest problem by far. Most of the time when I ate I wasn’t even hungry. I ate because I was bored. I ate because I was stressed. I ate because it was my civic duty to polish off that pint of Ben & Jerry’s. You get the idea. It’s important to get to know your body and recognize when you’re actually hungry and when you’re trying to fulfill a different kind of emptiness by filling your stomach.

Along the same line, I wasn’t accountable for what I ate. I’m a snacking FIEND. To the point where I actually had to stop bringing certain items home from the grocery store with snacking potential. Cool Ranch Doritos? Not in my home. Cheese? I can annihilate a block of cheddar like you wouldn’t believe. However, if you have more self control than I do, don’t deprive yourself of the things you love to eat! Just eat in moderation (I haven’t quite reached this gastronomical zen). As a side note, does anyone else have a SO with the metabolism of a hummingbird? Mr. Tartlet can polish off an entire box of Oreos and lose weight while doing it. *momentary death glare*

I hated the exercise I was doing. For some reason, I thought the only cardiovascular workout was running. I suck at running. My lungs tighten up, my throat gets dry, and I usually get a stitch in my side that gives me a distinct gallump when I move. Not surprisingly, I would find excuses not to run or cheat and lapse into a shuffle halfway through. It took some time and “shopping” around, but I eventually found activities that I liked: step aerobics, spinning, and dancing.

There are some amazing ladies in this community who have opened up and shared their experiences in becoming a healthier version of themselves. Their stories—along with unwavering support from Mr. Tartlet and my best girlfriends—have been a great source of inspiration and have helped me tackle the lesson of self-love: believe in yourself. Act like yourself. Whatever makes you who you are, own it with confidence—and you become unstoppable. That, dearest Hive, is what I believe to be a gal’s best accessory on her wedding day.