How to deal with weight issues

Do you crawl under the covers and emerge only for rice cakes, bathroom breaks and spin class until you lose it all?

Do you cancel your gym membership, move to a place without any Internet access (so no one can take photos of you and put them up on Facebook) and subsist on chocolate croissants for the rest of your life?

Believe me, both options have crossed my mind over recent weeks.

You see, I’d been overweight my whole adult life and never imagined I could change. But a couple of years ago, I started making commitments to myself that were totally foreign to me—exercising regularly (and enjoying it!), eating meals that would make Jillian Michaels proud, sleeping. I didn’t recognize that person, but I liked her. A lot. I was documenting my journey as the “shape up” blogger on glamour.com, and writing about all the weight I was losing, how great I was feeling, my newly discovered confidence and energy and overall optimism. Once I lost the weight (more than 75 pounds), I was able to keep it off for about 8 months.

So what happened over the last couple of months? It would be a lot easier (and a lot less embarrassing) to tell you all that I started gaining weight again because of one specific circumstance, but the reality is that those circumstances were just life. I’ve learned the danger in feeling like I have it worse than other people, or that I have a better excuse to not take care of myself, because the truth is, I don’t. But old habits die hard—and instead of dealing with stress and anxiety by doing the things I know help—eating well and working out—I turned to the things I know only make things worse: food, isolation, and very little physical activity.

There’s a phrase I’ve heard that comes to mind: “If you have a problem and you eat over it, now you have two problems.” It’s so true. I started to grow increasingly anxious about just what I was going to do about the weight I’d started to gain back. What would people think of me? Had they always expected I’d regain the weight? Why had I bothered working so hard to lose the weight in the first place? See, Margarita, you were destined to be fat.

Sounds awful, right? It was. And this is the conversation I’ve had with myself over the past couple of months. Here’s what I’ve learned about talking to myself this way: I have no chance in hell of getting off the hamster wheel of bingeing and no motivation (zero) to take care of myself when I beat myself up. Eating well and working out are literally gifts I give myself, so when I’m being mean to myself emotionally, I feel like I don’t “deserve” these gifts. I know how destructive those negative thoughts can be, yet it’s so easy for my mind to flip the switch and for them to become my default setting. I need to actively replace those thoughts and beliefs with new ones. I am—just by writing this blog entry—consciously making an effort to flip the switch back to the self-compassion position.

And here’s the thing: I know what kind of life I can have when I love myself. I saw glimpses of it, and I want it back. No, I haven’t regained all the weight (the clothes I was wearing a few months ago are tiiiight, but I can still zip them). The numbers on the scale? Well, the nicest thing I have done for myself is thrown it away, so don’t ask! So in addition to getting a new mind soundtrack (i.e. “I love and accept myself exactly as I am), are there any actions I’m going to take? Yes. Of course, I could take drastic measures, cut out all the oil and starch from my diet, start working out twice a day like I was doing when I first started my weight-loss plan, but I am not going to do any of that. I am not going to allow myself to go to the other extreme—restriction and excessive exercise—because I know that’s just the other side of the coin; it’s still punishing, it just looks a little bit different than eating cookies. Instead, I’m going to focus on what’s right in front of me instead of looking back.

I’m going to plan my meals and snacks in the morning so I know what I’m eating all day and can set myself up for success. And my food is going to be satisfying and healthy. I’m going to do it this way because I trust that if I’m patient (so hard!), the weight will start to come off again in time; I’m not putting myself on a any sort of timeline, because that falls into “punishing” territory. I don’t need to go on a diet because, really people, they don’t work. And, finally, I’m getting back to the gym. I’m registered for a spin class at 6:30p.m. with my favorite instructor of all—it isn’t something I dread, and that’ll help me get there tonight.

So that’s the plan: One day at a time, one foot in front of the other, and a daily dose of the following mantras: “I am not a screw-up. I am not a failure. I am not an embarrassment. I’m human! And I love and accept myself exactly as I am.” Repeat as often as necessary.

Can any of you relate to having lost a bit of weight and then regained some of it? How did you handle it?