It’s 8:13am and I have already yelled, cried, moved a dresser and thought about my upcoming surgery. Let me explain. As I am sure you do, I have a lot going on. I hate to say that “I’m busy” because that implies that I’m just flitting to and fro from this to that filling every moment with something. Wait. That is what I do, but… I don’t like to call it busy. I say, “My life is full,” or “There’s a lot on my plate,” (so many food references in our societal jargon). Ok, back to my point! I was in my son’s room and thought, “I bet I could fit that dresser into the closet to give him more room to play.” So, with the help of my strong seven-year-old, we moved the many many items that were on the floor between the dresser and the closet. And then we pushed! I’m not so good with measuring and all that nonsense, so I eye-balled it and knew it would fit. Well, it did not. So,there it sits; half in and half out of the closet, awaiting some magician to push it one inch more until it fits.
What is it about parenting that makes me feel more guilty when I lose my shit than the child who “encouraged” me to lose my shit? When I say, “lose my shit,” I really mean fussing vehemently. When I ‘lose it’ my actions mirror a toddler’s tantrum; stomping up the stairs, throwing my clothes here and there, fussing all the while to NO ONE, BECAUSE NO ONE IS LISTENING. I swapped my jammies for sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt. I tossed off my night bonnet and grabbed a hat, which I then kept in my hand and not on my head. I zoomed down the street to hopefully catch the bus before it screeched away. Boom! We made it with time to spare. Then I started feeling horrible for yelling this morning about the things I’ve gently fussed about for months. I felt sooooo bad! I apologized for yelling. I felt like I should take McDonald’s to my daughter for lunch. HOLD UP! What about this scenario makes me land on taking tasty, addictive, awful, processed, salty food to my daughter as a way to brighten her day after (she helped) mine get off to a rough start? Can I switch this over to something she really would like from me, like a walk or time together after school? Yes, but that is an afterthought. Why is it easier to fill generations with the foods we loved, and then learned were not good for us even after we have learned they were not good for us?
Moving on to why I cried. I am full of emotions about my surgery. I am excited, a little nervous, curious and hopeful. Take that and wrap it around the fact that over 20 years ago, my mom had a similar surgery. She did not have the same doctor or support that I have, nor did she have the success she’d hoped for. Her doctor stopped practicing shortly after her procedure and we found, three years later, that he had left a cloth in her stomach cavity. This foreign item wreaked havoc on her system. About 15 years after her surgery, it was discovered that she was not absorbing iron or protein that was needed to help her body function. I don’t know what appointments she had or what vitamins she did nor didn’t take, but things did not work well for her. This was the first thing that came to mind right after I considered calling for a consultation with the surgeon. Will I be successful? How do I measure success? Will I feel guilty if I lose more weight than my mom did?
Two years ago, on the evening of Valentine’s Day, my mom passed away in her sleep and joined my dad who had transitioned eight months before. I miss her and I miss him deeply; thus the tears that I felt falling down my face. When my mother was alive, and she would kill me for saying this, I never wanted to lose more weight than she had. I did not want her to be the biggest of the five women in our family. WHAT IS THAT?! Yes, I speak my truth because I know this is a safe space to do so. As a child, I saw my mom struggle, fight, work and starve to lose weight. Nothing worked to her satisfaction. So, I sabotaged my own progress in order to make her feel comfortable. She had no idea about this, of course. No one did.
Are you living your life, making decisions, sabotaging success, or holding yourself back for another person? Why? Is that what they would really want, or is that an excuse to keep pushing that boulder up the hill, only to let it roll back down and then you try again? When do you matter? When is it only about how you show up in the world and not about what others think or how they feel. We are not responsible for the feelings of others. I’ll say that again. We are not responsible for the feelings of others. We have influence over them, but ultimately, each individual chooses how they express their emotions. It sure was easier to look outside of myself and find reasons for my weight gain.
In the end,it comes down to you living for you. In doing that, you are able to help others, love others, support others and do all the other things that make you, you. First, you have to discover who you are living for. Are you even seeing the dangling oxygen mask, or did you cut the cord to offer it to someone else? Am I doing this surgery for my children? No, but I can’t wait to sit on the floor with my children when they invite me to. I look forward to saying YES when they want to go outside to play. Am I doing this for me? Yes! I also anticipate walking without laboring and descending the stairs without knee pain (these are for me). Never again will I put the hypothetical feelings of another unsuspecting person ahead of my own goals and success. What’s the point, unless it’s just to have someone else to blame.
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