Free At Last!

I was running late for my Weight Watchers meeting, as always. As I looked over at Debbie at the reception desk at the 8th Street location, she said, "You're up .2."

"Point two?" I asked excitedly. She confirmed. "I'll take it! Considering all the binging I did this week, it should be two pounds, not point-two!"

As I sat in my chair in the front row to listen to Meredy talk about exercise goals, a fog started to descend on me. In less than 3 hours, I had to check in with the dreaded housecleaning client. And ohhhhhh, boy, she'd be mad I gained weight, especially after telling me last week she was tired of me being in the 160's, she wanted me in the 150's! But when I thought about the chocolate truffles and ice cream I had from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory, the popcorn from Carmike, the Whoopie Pies and Sugar Cookies from King Soopers, the spoonfuls of Nestle Quik and Jif peanut butter I shoved down my throat ... I knew I got off easy this week. Yes, I ran 6.75 miles yesterday, but the 672 calories I burned didn't begin to balance out all the calories I took in.

After the meeting, I headed to the gym to do my usual weight resistance training. I was able to increase the weights on my leg presses, bicep and ab curls, and lat press. But as I drove to my client's house, my stomach started to churn and I felt nauseous. I experienced these feelings every time I went because of all the criticism I had to hear from her every week. Last night, I had made up my mind that I was going to put my foot down, once and for all, and tell her what I needed from her: encouragement, not criticism. After all, WW teaches us mental rehearsing and reframing, and I had to put it into practice if I was going to succeed with my weight loss/fitness goals.

I stopped at the park across the street from their neighborhood and called my husband. "Can you pray for me, Honey? I've decided that today is the day I'm going to tell Janet that I'm not going to let her criticize me anymore." He prayed that Janet's heart and ears would be opened, that God would give me the words to speak, and to fill me with His courage. I felt a little more confident, but I was trembling when I pulled up in front of her house. I purposely left my weigh-in book in the trunk of my car, took a deep breath, and raised my head in confidence as I knocked on the door. She waved me in.

As I entered the kitchen, she immediately looked down at my hands. "Where's your book?" she demanded.

Some things never change.

"I need to talk to you, Janet. Do you have a minute?"

"Yes."

Whew, here goes nothing! "Can you take a seat? Because I really need you to hear what I have to say." Wow, where was this courage coming from?

She sat, and I began.

"I've been working for you for almost two years now, and the whole time, I have received nothing but criticism from you--"

She interrupted. "I know. I have something for you." She indicated an envelope on her kitchen island. I didn't care if it was a card that said she was proud of me, if it was a bonus check, or what. I needed to finish speaking before I chickened out.

I plunged on, tears welling up in my eyes. "I am a nervous wreck every time I come over here because I'm always afraid of what you're going to say. I have purged and binged as a result of being scared of what you're going to say to me, or because of how you've put me down, and I've never done that before."

"I haven't only said negative things," she argued.

"That's true," I admitted. "But most of it has been negative. If I'm going to succeed at this, I need encouragement from you, not criticism."

"You're the one who asked for this," she retorted.

"I asked for the weight loss. I didn't ask for you to criticize me or put me down every single time I come over here."

"Then maybe you should quit."

Her suggestion stopped me in my tracks. "Quit what?" I asked. Quit my diet? After all I've been through and how hard I've worked? I wasn't giving up now!

"Quit coming here. Maybe you should just walk out the door right now and never come back."

Wow, that was not the answer I was expecting. In fact, I was prepared to set some boundaries, spell out what I needed from her, and be able to count on her positive support from here on out. But as I looked into her eyes, in that split second, I realized there was no changing her. If I was going to get this monkey off my back, I had to heed her words, and walk out.

"I believe you're right," I said. I stood, grabbed my shoes and keys out of the closet, walked out to my car, in my stocking feet, and never looked back. As I put the car into reverse, I broke into tears, and laughed all the way out the neighborhood.

I'm free! I'm free! I couldn't believe it! I called my husband with the good news. He laughed with me, but was concerned when he heard my sobbing.

"These are tears of joy, Honey! Can't you see I've gotten my freedom back? She can't hurt me anymore!"

I hung up and continued crying/laughing all the way home. Greg called back, "Should we go to IHOP to celebrate?" I burst into fresh laughter. "No, Silly! Just because I'm free doesn't mean I can go off my diet! I'll see you in a little bit."

As I pulled into the parking spot and cut the engine, I gripped the steering wheel and set my head down, crying fresh tears. By the time Greg approached and opened the door, I was sobbing loudly. I looked over at him and started cracking up! "Can you believe it? I stood up for myself for once in my life, and she FIRED me! Is that not the funniest thing you've ever heard?" We laughed together as I continued, "Free at last, free at last, thank GOD I am free at last!"

We gathered our belongings out of the trunk of the car and walked to the house. I laughed the whole way.

"You're glowing, Honey! I've never seen you look so beautiful," he said as he hugged me. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks! I've never felt so beautiful. And light! That was the easiest 90 lbs. I've ever lost, and it only took two minutes!"

It's a New ME ... Maybe

On April 1st, when I showed up for my housecleaning job on Friday instead of my normal Thursday, I forgot my weigh-in book because my routine got all screwed up. Of course, it was the first thing Janet asked for when I entered the kitchen. "I forgot it," I informed her, "but I lost .6 this week." Not my best, but better than a gain. I was happy, especially since I had celebrated my birthday, eating cake twice, and going out to dinner once with my hubby.

"I'm really getting tired of the 160's, I want you in the 150's!" she huffed.

"Oh really? Well, bite me! I quit!" I stomped out of the house, leaving her slack-jawed in the kitchen to fend for herself to get her house cleaned.

Every time I turn around, she's saying something negative to me! A couple of weeks ago, she said, "Before you lost weight, I didn't think you'd fit in my tub!" Not sure why I would be in her tub, but that's beside the point. She just wants to rub in the fact that I was so big. And at almost 230 lbs. (my heaviest was 237), I know I was big! She doesn't have to remind me every chance she gets.

Another comment she made was when I was filling the bucket to mop the floors. She has an island in the middle of her kitchen and sets up the ironing board between the island and sink. She stands at the ironing board, and I'm behind her, filling up at the kitchen sink when she says, "Look! Now we can BOTH fit in here now that you've lost weight." I resisted the urge to dump the bucket on her head and walk out.

I never did "win" the bathing suit when I left for the cruise in December (has it really been that long since I've posted?). I lost 58.6 lbs., not the 60 we agreed on, nor did she make an exception and give me a bonus anyway. She gave me my traditional Christmas bonus, but that doesn't count towards the bathing suit bonus. Oh well, I got enough of an earful about gaining 9 lbs. while on the cruise when I got back. Before I left, she said it would be okay for me to gain "a little, since you don't go on a cruise every day." But when I showed her my weigh-in book and the 9 lb. gain, I felt like a little kid caught with my hand in the cookie jar with the way she chastised me. I didn't care what she thought, well, actually I did, but I wasn't going to beat myself up over 9 lbs. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I knew I was going to gain. I just had to re-lose it all, that's all. And I have, and then some!

Okay, so I really didn't say "Bite me." That part was an April Fools. I simply said, "I'm doing my best," and smiled graciously.

She walked over to her laundry closet and opened the doors. "As incentive for getting into the 150's, I'll give you this picnic set." Her eyes gleamed as if she was handing me a Tiffany Egg. The set was bright orange, plastic, and used. What did I want with a used set of plastic dishes? My husband celebrated his 50th birthday two weeks ago, and she gave him a nice copper casserole dish. Sure, it was used, but she polished it up all nice and clean and it was beautiful! A week later, he hammered in a wall anchor and hook for them to re-hang a clock in their living room. Took him all of 30 seconds. She polished up another copper frying pan and gave it to him for a thank-you gift. I've lost 61 lbs., am running 4-6 miles 4 times a week, I'm training for a 10 mile race in Garden of the Gods, and all I get is a set of plastic dishes? What the ...???

I tried to seem excited. Why can't I get up enough courage to tell her off? Now, if she wanted to give me the rest of the copper dishes, that would really float my boat, but I can't get excited over some plastic plates. She turned to face me, "And, when you reach 150, I'll give you a one-hundred-dollar bonus."

Now that was more like it, but money didn't motivate me. At least, not that much. Strange, I know. I acted appreciative, but still, her words kept running through my head, "I'm tired of the 160's ...." After all my efforts, all my running, all my weight training at the gym, none of it was good enough for her.

Her comments took a toll on me the rest of the week. On Monday, I was so depressed, I didn't even go for my run. I couldn't shake the funk I was in. On Tuesday, I binged on junk food. I even took the edge off with a mixed drink, and I rarely drink unless it's a special occasion. I bought Whoopie Pies at the grocery store and sucked them down so fast I barely tasted them. The pies weren't enough, I threw back a couple of frosted sugar cookies. With sprinkles.

I felt wretched. I wanted to choke her! It was all her fault! I cried myself to sleep that night.

When I awoke on Wednesday, things looked a little better, so I went for my run. I pushed myself to go further than my standard 4 miles. My furthest so far was 5.6 miles, but today, I had a lot of calories to burn off. So I went 6.75 miles! I couldn't believe it! Granted, I took an Aleve when I got home and iced my knees like my coach suggests, then took a cat nap with the puppies. But I feel great now.

As soon as I get off here, I'm going to write her a letter. For real this time. And when I arrive tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to hand it to her and make her read it before I let her say anything to hurt me. After she reads it, we can discuss the "new me," and how I won't let her make comments like that to me anymore. No more justifying her callous remarks because she's "old," or "she doesn't realize she's doing that," etc. No, like my favorite song says, "It's a new day, it's a new dawn, it's a new life, and I'm feeling goooooooooood." (Incidentally, it's the unofficial theme song for Weight Watchers.) That includes a new ME, and I'm going to stick up for myself from now on.

Maybe.