Motivational Memories

Failure is not an option. Quitting is, though.

When things get hard, I quit. But this time, I'm powering through. I had a memory today flash in my mind of how far I've come. Let's call it temporary motivation.

Flashback:

I was a bridesmaid in my sister's wedding in Puerto Rico this summer. I believe it was around the end of January that we had gone shopping for bridesmaid dresses when I realized how unhappy I was with myself. Saying that trying on dresses with a bunch of skinny bitches is miserable would be an understatement.

Watching everyone else come out of the fitting room in several dresses, all of which needed to be clasped to keep the dress from falling, my heart felt like it was being gouged with a butter knife, or a dull, rusty machete. Either way, it was violent and upsetting. The sample dresses were all a size 10, and I, after being measured, came in at size 18 for my boobs and hips, but a horrendous 24 for my "bulging ripple-iness" (to quote Peter from Family Guy). Oh, I mean my gut--stomach--whatever you want to call the tire that sits just above my hips, but below my jugs. To say that I hate my body is quite obvious. Clearly.

A couple months passed, still eating like I just came back from the holocaust on a daily basis, my dad suggested a weight loss program. I've always struggled trying to lose weight, but at one point I just accepted that I would always eat like a bulimic--well a bulimic with no gag reflex. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted, and my taste buds thanked me, but my reflection didn't.

With Jenny Craig and support, I lost 22 pounds before the wedding came around, having my dress altered to a more satisfyingly smaller size. I thought back to that day in House of Brides. I stood in front of the mirror, sobbing, while Madeline (my sister's mother) consoled me. I compared myself to everyone else and all I saw was the Michelin Man. I was a lumpy, hideous person. (most days, I still see lumpy and hideous...but that is a whole different matter) But I had accomplished something. I was actually proud of myself.

After that, I lost roughly 18 more pounds. But school started again and motivation went out the window as I adjusted to different friends and stronger temptation. (and a mess of other meaningless issues...but this isn't a therapy session...so lets forget it.) I'm back to only having lost 29 pounds, which is almost like a slap in the face to myself. I worked so hard, staying motivated all summer, and I threw it all away.

But I digress.

My point is that I thought of that day in House of Brides, in front of that horrible mirror unable to put any dress on my body, and remembered why I was doing this. I have felt few things worse than hating myself. And every little bit of me that leans towards quitting is a step to hating myself to that degree again.

So this is my temporary motivation, that memory.