Is Saying Goodbye to Dieting An Admission of Defeat?
In 2008, I was 46 years old. One day I cleaned out my closet and was amazed to find clothes I hadn’t worn for nearly twenty years. At that time I wore a size 18/20, and had come to grips with the fact that the size 6 Betsey Johnson black and purple mesh star slip dress I had loved passionately wasn’t going to fit me anytime soon.
As I longingly stared at it, draped over the light blue satin padded hanger, my thoughts wandered and I remembered the last time I had worn it. My husband, Angel and I were invited to his best friend, Ricky’s wedding.
It was November 1992, almost a year and half after our son, PT, (Paul Thomas) was born. According to Weight Watchers®, I was still a few pounds away from my goal weight. But at 137 pounds I was feeling pretty confident that I looked great.
All day long I stressed about wearing that dress. Although I knew it would look wonderful, I couldn’t do anything to risk having a tummy bulge so I ate like a bird.
On the day of the wedding I ate steamed vegetables and salad with diet dressing and sipped on endless amounts of water. The reception was in the evening around 7:30 p.m.
As I stepped into the car I smiled as I thought about how stunning I looked. I thought about the price I had paid to fit into this dress; all the personal training sessions, the buckets of sweat, the weigh-ins, the Weight Watchers recipes, all the money spent on low Cal foods, workout clothes, gym equipment, membership, personal training, and even sneakers.
I ran through my mental files remembering all the walking and running, the stair climbing and dancing, the pushups, pull ups, curls, sit ups, lunges, squats and sprints, and all the temptation that I did my best to resist, culminating in this very moment. I felt so incredibly proud of my accomplishments and as I slid gently into my car seat, I silently patted myself on the back.
When Angel and I arrived at the reception, I felt like the belle of the ball. All of my husband’s friends and brothers swarmed around me, paying me compliments and saying how wonderful I looked with my satin skin and creamy white shoulders.
My husband beamed with pride. We danced a bit. And during our time together all I could think of was how I looked in that dress.
“Did I look fat? Did my belly pooch out from that last glass of water?” I made up an excuse and told Angel that I wanted to sit down, knowing full well that my motive was my fear that standing up made my tummy bulge more obvious.
When it came time to eat at the reception, I picked at my food. I had a few grains of rice and some chicken along with a couple sips of water. I just couldn’t risk not fitting into that dress and having my tummy bulge out. It was all I could think about.
It was just before midnight as we were coming off the highway heading home. I was starving and so hungry. I asked Angel to stop and pick up some Chinese food before the take out place closed. Ah! Anticipating a real meal, I breathed a sigh of relief. That marked the end of my obsession of fitting into that dress that night.
It was all over and I could celebrate my achievement by eating.
That was the legacy that being food and weight obsessed for years taught me. I learned how to play the game and fool myself and others into believing I had control over food. It was all an illusion and in reality food had me in its thrall.
Today I’m 61 years old. Sadly my beloved Angel passed away nearly 3 years ago. And as a widow I have a lot of regrets, but making the decision to stop dieting is not one of them. That decision to stop dieting put me on a journey of self-love.
I thank the Lord that I don’t obsess over food anymore and that I no longer fear being seen as imperfect. Alert the media. The secret’s out. I’m not perfect.
That dress? Mmmm. First I passed it on to my daughter, Cara. For Halloween 2008 she was the most fashionably dressed witch in all of Rockland County, New York.
Then one day I found my precious dress crumpled up in a ball at the bottom of her closet. I realized she didn’t understand what that dress really meant to me so I took it back.
For Christmas that year I gave it to my step daughter, Janelle. She beamed with joy when she opened the box. I just knew that she would love it as much as I did.
Looking confused, she asked me, “Andrea, why don’t you want to keep this for when you can fit into it?” With a bold resolute certainty, I told her, “No thank you, sweetie. It really was time for me to let go of that dress. That was the old Andrea, this is the new me and that dress just doesn’t fit in with who I am anymore. Wear it well, honey and take lots of pictures. I want that dress to go out dancing a lot. Okay?”
I made the decision to stop dieting 18 years ago. Now when I think back to the days of craziness and insanity that dress represented, I realize my decision to stop obsessing about food and my body was not giving up. In fact, it was taking a bold stand for myself and honoring the woman I’ve become.
When I gave up allowing a diet or a program to tell me what I could and could not eat, I took back control over the rest of my life. I’ve decided that like that dress, body obsession and dieting just doesn’t fit me anymore. I’ve simply outgrown them.
There may have been some good memories from diets in the past, but for the most part, it was a lot of pain. Now I say, “Goodbye to Dieting” and “Hello Life.”
Since my beloved husband, Angel passed away on April 21, 2021, I’m reminded of what really matters in life. Love
As I write this today, it’s a lovely, cold sunny day in New York City. But I’m aware of a poignant sadness as I remember all the precious weekends I could have spent snuggling with my Angel and instead I chose to squander the day in pursuit of researching weight loss tips. A tragedy.
My sweet husband never did quite understand my obsession with wanting to be thinner. He always loved me at every size and his affection and passion never wavered. I was perhaps the luckiest woman in the world.
But for me, the problem was I allowed my body shame and insecurities to steal years of joy from our marriage. It wasn’t until I stopped dieting in 2006 that I was finally able to settle into seeing myself from my husband’s adoring eyes. As the saying goes, “we accept the love we think we deserve.”
I’ll never get back my sweet man or have the chance to relive those years I wasted. But I can move forward with a greater degree of gratitude, love and self-compassion for myself so that I’ll never waste another precious moment going forward.