13 Pounds

Last week, I had a gyno appointment at the hospital. Like most women, I wasn't jumping for joy for the appointment, but when you are a woman, you can not avoid these things. One of the reasons I was not excited was because I was going to ride into the city with my aunt to save money, and she would drop me off at the hospital on the way to work. I miscalculated how long I would be waiting for my appointment. It was a whopping three hours! When it was finally time for my appointment, I could hardly keep my eyes open! Another reason I was not excited for my appointment was because I was not looking forward to getting weighed. 

Let me tell you, nothing can ruin my day like getting weighed. However, I decided to force myself to get weighed so I could see how much weight I had gained. Even with changes in diet, I was feeling more sluggish and even heavier than usual. I was not excited. When the moment of truth came, I stood on the scale and cleared my head completely, a trick I found keeps me from screaming when I see the usually tragic number. When my weight came up on the digital screen, I was shocked. I had lost 13 pounds! 

This may not sound like a lot to you, but it is beyond a lot for me. I was beginning to think that I literally could not lose weight, seeing that I never do. I have consistently gotten bigger my whole life. I didn't even lose weight in New Orleans, walking to my classes in 120-degree heat! Yet somehow, I had lost 13 pounds. For the first time ever, I was feeling hopeful about my weight. I felt like I was going to burst!

Of course, I had to tell a few of my girlfriends. I mean, this was really momentous! Out of the seven friends that I told, only about half of them seemed genuinely excited for me. The other half had very low energy, disappointing responses. However, I was not surprised. 

For years, my friends (particularly the ones from college) have been hammering me to lose weight. To diet. To exercise. A few years ago, I got serious and tried to diet on my own and was excited to talk about it with my friends. The excitement results were about the same, and this made me sad. I figured that my friends didn't really think I could make any positive changes in my life in this area, or maybe even thought I was lying. 

But after talking to my friends, I realized that the reasoning was more maniacal: they didn't want me to lose weight. Not really. 

This was a sour pill to swallow, but follow me here. Life deals you a lot of punches and a lot of change. Moves. Deaths. Promotions. Layoffs. Loves. Breakups. However, in all of this, there is one constant: Holly is and probably will always be fat. Not just fat, but really fat. No matter how bad or tough their lives were, mine would always be worse because of my weight and all that entails. Even if the worst thing ever happened to them, that would be okay, because at least, at the end of the day, they weren't me. Many of them couldn't even imagine my pathetic existence. No boyfriend. No cute mini dresses. No travel on an airplane. I really do believe that this gives them comfort. A lot of comfort. 

This all sounds horrible, right? Who wants to believe that the people who "love" them would bask in the glory of their bad health? Believe you me, it happens. 

If I lose anything else, I'm keeping it to myself. You won't be able to tell I've lost anything until I hit big numbers anyway. Plus, the lackluster reaction kind of hurts my feelings. Who wants to feel like they aren't supported by their support system?