I need help changing my diet and exercise habits - the past
few years have shown that I can’t do it on my own. The problem is I don’t like
to report to people about what I’m eating or how much I’m moving.
I remember once I was on Weight Watchers, which assigns “points”
to different foods and then allows you to eat pretty much what you like (within
reason) as long as you don’t surpass a certain number of points per day. It
forces you to learn to make good choices or else be hungry and malnourished. My
co-workers knew I had joined, and one day a well-meaning friend who shared my
cubicle saw my lunch and asked, “Should you be eating that?” I like this girl,
but I almost punched her. I took a deep breath but I forgot to count. I snapped
back, “You’re not allowed to ask me things like that!” Bewildered she blinked
and asked, “Why not?” I tried to explain, “You can’t assume the role of my
keeper. I can’t answer to you. This has to be for me or it won’t happen.” I was
right, but I felt like an ass saying it. I quit the program soon after. I’m not
blaming her at all; I’m blaming my astonishing inclination to cut off my nose
to spite my face, or your face, or whoever’s the face it may be. I don’t handle
meddling well, even if it’s meant with love. Don’t ask me to join a gym with
you or to go on a diet with you, and don’t you DARE tell me how many calories
are in the food we’re both eating unless I ask, which I won’t.
I’m not a hypocrite about the don’t-ask-me-how-I’m-doing
thing. I’m not going to ask you either. Trust me, I don’t want to know how many
calories you’ve eaten today, or how many points you have left, or how your
jeans are fitting, or whether or not you got up in time to exercise this
morning. At all. I am 0% curious about these things. This makes me a bad friend.
Friends want to know what’s going on in their friends’ lives, even if that
includes topics that are boring or uncomfortable. People need support to reach
their goals, and that’s what friends are for. If you put it that way, then yes,
I do want to know because I care about you. I just don’t care about the minutia of your diet plan and I don’t want to talk about it every time I see you, especially if I see you
frequently, and especially if you’re only one of many people in my life who are
trying to get healthy. I know you’re only talking about your own personal goals,
but it's like the eighth conversation I've had about this today. Also, it can feel like a not-so-subtle manipulation, “I’m doing all these things,
what are YOU doing, fatty?” At the very least it forces me to make those kinds
of pointed remarks internally, so that even if the guilt trip isn’t coming from
you it’s caused by your favorite conversation topic. What a selfish way for me
to think. Not everything is about me.
So back to me, I don’t want to join a gym because when
people see me work out I feel embarrassed, like they’re watching me poop (stinky,
undignified, necessary). On the other hand, I may be completely wrong. Who goes
to the gym to watch other people work out? No one. At least, no one whose
opinion I want to worry about. Logically I know you don’t have to be perfect on
the first try, and that applies to everything, even working out. It’s ok to
look silly. It’s ok to feel silly. Even so, I still want to be perfect on the
first try. That’s my problem. I don’t want to get there; I just want to be
there.
Pride is keeping me down. It starves my self-esteem into nothing. This leaves me without the confidence to act and without the ability to admit it's my own fault,
both of which make it harder for me to change. If I was more comfortable none
of this would matter. I’m not comfortable because I’m not right. I have a bad
attitude about it, and I don’t want to be one of those people who say, “Yeah, I
know I’m wrong, but that’s just me,” because that’s an even worse attitude.
I know the answers. I just can't seem to make myself apply
them.
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