Since yesterday's post about Adam, I've been determined to find the one picture of him that I remember taking. Just to help me remember him better. And I did find that picture.
Which led me right into this tribute...I have hundreds of printed photos and even more digital ones that I am able to look back and reflect on. As I dug through my collection, I found pictures of moments and stages of my life that I had almost forgotten about.
Perhaps stages I would've rather never went through in the past... but I can actually look at and laugh at now. Like this...
Or stages that I don't remember that well, but am able to still reflect on...
I am so thankful for photography and the memories that a single photo can provide.Tribute to Thanksgiving #8: "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves." - Victor Frankl
In June of 2010, I was gearing up to open Annie Get Your Gun at Rodgers Memorial Theatre. It was just a couple of weeks before we opened when a few of our costumes were brought in for us to try on. My double was teeny-tiny and had no trouble fitting into the adorable costumes the theatre had rented for us. They gave me the ones that they had rented for me and I went into the dressing area to put them on. Not a single one fit.
I lost it. I went back into the fitting area and just wept as I put my street clothes back on and put the costumes back on their hangers. My director knocked just as I was finishing the task. She saw that I was crying and didn't say a word. She just wrapped her arms around me and let me just fall apart.
It wasn't just those costumes. There had been things that hadn't fit me before. This was really nothing new. But I suppose this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I wasn't huge, but I was definitely overweight, and I was unhappy with myself because of it. It seemed to be validation of how crappy I was feeling about myself. I remember thinking that this was an obvious reason for me to not love myself, why my self-esteem was as low as it was.
For three months, as I've mentioned before, I lived in a state of self-pity. The worst I've ever been, the most self-hate I've ever doled out to myself, the most depressed I've ever been, the most uncomfortable I've ever felt, the most unlovable I ever imagined feeling. I felt like my life was honestly falling apart.
Then on September 27, 2010, I woke up at 7 AM, as usual, and sat up in my bed. My mirror hung on the north wall of my bedroom. My bed sat in the center of the western wall. As I flung my feet over the side of my bed, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing my orange 2005 Tony t-shirt and my pink- and green-striped pajama bottoms. My hair was in a messy bun on the top of my head. Of course my face was clean of any make-up.
I sat there for a very long time looking at myself, I remember, before I stood up, grabbed my towels and went to shower. During my shower, I thought about how long I had just spent staring at my reflection and how, while I was doing so, I was absolutely disgusted by what I saw. And what's worse, I knew that every time I looked in the mirror, that is how I felt about myself.
I knew something had to change. I knew that for years I'd said, "I'm going on a diet," or "I need to lose some weight," but I'd done nothing about it.
So I turned to the only thing I knew:
I'd done the program with my mom for a short time in high school (with no success because I didn't commit to it). I called in to work and said that I would be running a little late. I stepped on the scale and logged my weight. I turned on my laptop and went to Google's homepage. I typed in the words, "How many Weight Watchers Points am I allowed?" I clicked on the first result and calculated my points. I opened an Excel document to put in my information. I finished getting ready for the day and went to the store where I bought Special K bars, Progresso Light Soup, light string cheese, some Lean Cuisine, a new water bottle, a banana and some Diet Coke.I've told very few people this next thing because I consider it a very personal thing...
I don't remember that week. I remember it was tech week for The Drowsy Chaperone, but I don't remember how "hard" it was to start eating better. All I really remember is stepping on the scale the next Monday and seeing a weight loss of 7.1 pounds. That was all I needed to keep going. I truly believe that Heavenly Father took my hand, covered my eyes and walked me through that week in order for me to start. Because seeing those results made me happy... and He knew that.
As of today, I've lost a total of 45.3 pounds, and I am the most confident I have ever been. I remain the happiest I have ever been. The goal is 50 pounds, but I am in a place right now where my body is no longer an issue to me. Instead of hiding it, I don't mind showing it off. I'm proud of it. But more than proud, I'm grateful - for Weight Watchers, for that first week, and for the support around me always.
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