I follow blogs from Lily in Australia and Lynda in East Africa and I occasionally drop by on Braja in India and Susie in Saudi Arabia. I expect to have my eyes opened when I read them; I expect to hear new words, about new foods, new ways of thinking.
When I read people closer to home, somehow when they introduce me to a foreign concept it can be a bit more reeling for me. I'm thinking especially of this post by Lynn of Lynn's Weigh yesterday. She's writing a response to a doctor who said he hoped his patients gained weight over the holiday because, basically, otherwise they were too uptight and didn't know how to relax.
Lynn's response, in part was, "Gaining weight is NOT part of my agenda. I don’t give a sh*t what time of year it is. Choosing not to eat sugary sweets or overload on potatoes and meat doesn’t make me strict or a “dieter.” It means I’m consistent and have a plan." In terms of how she ate over the holidays she says, "I tweaked my eating a bit, but never did I “slap my wrist” or yearn for seconds. I never felt “deprived” (I really hate that word). For my efforts? I feel fabulous."
Several commenters had similar ideas:
MizFit said: I'm one who can enjoy and indulge AND not gain weight.
Lori said: Part of living life is learning how much is too much and how much is too
little. I think that's called moderation
Sarah said: Permanent weight loss involves being mindful and to plan: Not
only on Holidays but everyday of the year.
Sandrelle said: I vowed to never deprive myself again and to learn to eat consciously and on purpose and to enjoy my foods. I don't consider anything I've done "overly
strict" and I have been so much more successful because I stick to my plan,
which includes occasional planned indulgences. I can portion my way through any
holiday and celebration and have never felt better and more in control of what I
It's not that I think holidays provide an excused time to binge.
It's not that I want to abandon all goals at a holiday.
It's just that doing it IS a struggle. It IS often like white knuckling it, like talking myself through something scary (like standing on the edge of a high building).
My constant way of thinking seems to be about "fighting" this or more truthfully probably, defending myself from it because I feel more like a shrinker than an aggressor.
The people who commented on Lynn's blog may as well have been speaking in a different language--one with a whole different alphabet and characters--because they sounded so at peace and resigned and confident with their ways of thinking and being.
I've had brief visits into their world--like the time when the ice cream server gave me 2 scoops when I asked for one and I flicked the top scoop into the trash can saying, "you're not going to F* me over." But I've never stayed in their world long enough to feel like one of them.