Celebrity Weight Loss Secrets

I must find them out.

Remember the first time you heard your own voice on the telephone…maybe you listened to a message you left on an answering machine (back in the day), or tape recorded your voice with a cassette recorder (that is really back in the day). I remember. And, I remember thinking that is not me. No way, that is not my voice. I hear my voice differently than everyone else.

Just like my voice, I see my body differently than others. When I was growing up, my two best friends were A) a girl who was a bean-pole and B) a girl who was almost a tiny doll. Here I was short and chubby. I remember being in the doctor’s office and him telling my mom that she had to cut the Pepsi (which was the one junkie thing we were allowed to have). I also remember it helped. So did growing four inches my freshman year in college.

But still, I had body issues as an adult. Then came pregnancy and child birth. I have weighed within ten pounds of the same weight since high school (obviously not while pregnant, but I always lose the weight). But, the parts of my body that bothered me then, still bother me now: my Jewish booty, my birthing hips, and my thunder thighs. I hate them, or at least am obsessed with stewing over them.

Every day is a constant battle for me not to eat everything I want to—which would be any kind of baked good and a daily maybe pint or so of ice cream. I don’t eat fast food—that is not a struggle for me—and I don’t eat candy, unless you count chocolate. If it involves chocolate, I love it. I have had periods where I eat everything I want, and even still I gain about 10 pounds when I should be a whale. But, being a whale isn’t really in my genes (on either side); I am blessed with a high metabolism, a strong need to stay busy, and a family who wouldn’t tolerate of a fat person (literally, my grandpa used to have a license plate cover that said “Weaver Rules: No Fat Chics,” my grandpa!)

I keep a daily food journal that shows how much water I drink (at least 100 ounces a day), how much coffee I drink, what I eat for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I skip at least one meal a day, with one meal being pittance and the third meal (usually family dinner) being my only real caloric intake. I did institute the food journal for other reasons too, like to track what foods or how much coffee leads to have heartburn and the other digestive upsets creeping in with age.

But, the bottom line is that I have a huge problem with portion control. Despite the fact that I made the meal, I have a hard time, while eating the food, convincing myself that this yummy food (or even sometimes not so yummy food) will be here tomorrow or that I can make the dish again another time. I often just cannot get enough food at a sit down meal. I am trying to work on that, but my mom will tell you I had a love affair with food even as a baby. I love everything about food—the smells, the textures, the tastes. I love preparing it, cooking it, sharing it with friend and family. For me, there is nothing in the world like a good meal. Food is love.

I weigh myself at least once a day. I track my daily weight in my journal. I am struggling to lose the 7 pounds I gained when I finally stopped nursing Andrew in the spring. I really want to weight 128, but I know my body likes to weigh 130. But, 130 doesn’t seems skinny enough for me. I want to be skinny. So, maybe I am warped on this one. I know whenever I see a picture of myself I am studying my body—do I look fat? Maybe my perception is a bit skewed. I stand in line at the grocery store and read the trashy magazines to try and find out how these celebrities do it because I think they all look great (well, some really are skin and bones).

I love it when people use words like tiny and skinny to describe me; I replay that in my head over and over…often while I am having a conversation with myself about whether or not to eat a giant bowl of ice cream. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. But, it is a constant struggle and a constant conversation in my mind. “I really want ice cream. Yeah, but don’t you want to be skinny more than you want ice cream? Not today…today I deserve ice cream.” I have lots of conversations with myself about food. On the way to the fridge in the morning when I am starving, I say to myself over and over, “…protein, protein, protein” to ensure I end up with a small piece of whole grain bread with a bit of almond butter on it instead of strawberry preserves, which I would then have to write down in the sugar column.

Okay, enough…you get it, right? I am obsessed with my weight and my body and I have serious food issues. I am Oprah! In fact, I think I even know where my food issues come from…but that is a whole other blog entry. Wish me luck on accepting 130 when I hit it (about three pounds to go) and the ability to maintain it and let go of all of this craziness associated with my body. Really, I thought I had a positive body image, but post-babies, I realized I am nuts.