The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

…I Just Want You to Know Who I Am April 30, 2011

It's a Great Feeling

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Hello all.  Please do not adjust your monitors- you haven’t slipped back in time.  You’re actually reading a new post.  I’m writing again for the first time in a while, and I’m feeling really introspective and deep at the moment, and I’m feeling like I have a lot to say tonight, and I’m praying that it all comes out the way I want it to. 


I owe this new entry to a surprise comment from an old friend I ran into today.  We were talking about our kids, and what they were going to do after high school, and Daughter S., who was with me, told my friend she wants to go to the Dallas Art Institute.  My friend asked me if I was artsy in high school, and I said no, that was my cousin, and that I was more creative with words.  She asked me why I didn’t “do something with that.”  I told her I used to blog online, and she said, “Yeah, I know.  I used to read it all the time, and then you quit doing it.”  That comment shocked me.  I knew there were a faithful few who seemed to enjoy reading me here, but I had no idea who else might have been going along for the ride. (This is why you totally need to be commenting, here, folks!  I need feedback.  I’m no longer too proud to beg!)  So I started thinking about all the writing I’ve done here and all the people who’ve read it and been able to relate, connect, and hopefully have a laugh.  I realized how much I’ve missed writing.  Blogging, sharing, ranting, attempting to entertain and perhaps inspire.  So I’m back in the saddle again, to quote an old cowboy ditty. 


I was driving home tonight from my kids’ Campfire campout.  The car was quiet.  I had the radio off, for once.  The Boy was snoring in the backseat.  I was contemplating.  You know, things like the Universe and the meaning of life.  No, not really.  Actually, I was thinking about how it’s neat when you’re driving at night through areas with a lot of lights all around, and you let your eyes relax and blur a little, and it all becomes this loopy chaos of sensation, in which, if you let yourself stay long enough, you can start to feel just a little bit high. 


Also, I was thinking about the subtitle of my blog:  One Woman’s Journey to Becoming Her True Self.  One Woman.  Wo-man.  Whoa, man!  I’m a woman.  When did that happen?  Chronologically there’s no question, I mean I’m ever so lightly pushing 40.  In the timeline of the universe, I’m definitely an adult.  Have been for a while.  But does anyone else ever share that feeling where you’re still just the same person you were in high school, but now people call you Mom, and driving doesn’t scare you, and you have a house that it’s your job to take care of, and you go to work and pay bills, but other than that, you haven’t changed much?  Just me, huh?  Or maybe not.  Maybe some of you felt that way too, you just didn’t know you did until I pointed it out.


Also the word ‘journey.’  My journey seems to have kicked into high gear lately.  I mentioned on New Year’s Day that I wanted to make this year a year of Action.  Remember last year, I was all about Transformation?  How I wanted to change myself and my life into something I could be proud of, and how this year I wanted to learn how to bring more motion and action into my life, not just physically, but in a lot of other ways too?  Well recently I’ve found myself in what once would have been the oddest of places for me- a gym.  A fitness center.  A place where most people could fit their entire bodies into one leg of my jeans.  It wasn’t an overnight thing, of course.  I was drawn into it veeeery slowly.  My beautiful sister, the fitness fanatic, the exercise queen, had been going there for years. Never nagging, never bragging, never trying to push anyone to do as she did, but always encouraging, supporting, and gently leaving the door open for others to follow her example, eventually becoming certified to instruct the classes she’d been taking for ages.  She participated in a fitness challenge this year, as she has in other years, that piqued my attention and interest mostly because of how much more weight she lost when I thought she had no more to lose, and also because of how much participating helped her husband, who lost his mother right before the challenge started, and who found new salvation and purpose and strength both literal and emotional in his discovery of the joy of fitness.  That was powerful to witness, trust me.


So I started thinking.  Like I said, Verrrry slowly.  Reluctantly.  I was still trying to do Weight Watchers, but I was really struggling, ever since the holidays.  I was yo-yo-ing up and down, mostly flatlined, but not really trying very hard.  Then they added a new class to the lineup, called PiYo, a combination of Pilates and yoga moves- core strengthening, stretching, balance, etc.  I tried it out, because it was zero impact, and because it was new to everybody so maybe I could keep up, and because my sister was the instructor.  I really enjoyed it, and I kept going to every class.  It was only once a week, so it didn’t create a big sucking drain on my time or energy, and there was plenty of time to recover between Friday mornings at 9am.  And I kept going.  And from the beginning, when I could barely hold myself up, I gradually began to notice it getting easier.  I suddenly realized I was doing some moves I couldn’t do when I started.  Wait, what?  I can do a tricep dip with knee pull?  I can do windshield wiper knees?  I can do a SIDE PLANK!?  Wow, this is only from going one day a week!  What if I started going more often?  What if I went to the turbo class?  No, I can’t do turbo.  That’s fast.  That’s high impact.  That’s 5:freakin-45 in the A.M.!  I gotta sleep sometime.  But… what if I tried it?  What if I did it, and it made a huge difference in my weight loss efforts?  What if I started to feel like maybe I could someday make it to goal weight and actually be a small person, and maybe even be… an athlete?


Let’s flash back here for a minute.  I started this journey with over two hundred pounds to lose.  That’s right,  2.  Hundred.  I couldn’t walk through my house without feeling like my breathing increased.  I couldn’t jog.  I couldn’t cross my legs.  Hell, I could barely wipe my own butt.  You think that’s not embarrassing to admit?  Brutal honesty here, folks.  Stick with me though, here’s where it gets interesting. 


This past week at Weight Watchers, I hit 99 lbs. lost since January 2010.  On Monday, I also paid my monthly fee to attend unlimited classes at the gym.  I went to turbo class.  Not once.  Three times in a week.  And one or two times the week before that.  I haven’t missed a regular PiYo class since they started.  People started commenting and noticing my weight loss again.  Not just people who see me once every six months- people who see me at least once a week.  I got revitalized in my weight loss efforts, tracking regularly again, being more controlled and careful about what I ate.  This week at Weight Watchers, I will probably get a gold medal, my most trivial of many rewards for losing 100 lbs. 


In other words, I was wrong.  I have changed.  I’m older, but I’m not the same. Everything changed.  Everything changed because I got serious about ACTION.  Motion.  Movement.  A friend of mine posted a picture of herself AND her fitness trainer both wearing the denim shorts she was wearing when she started her journey.  It’s amazing to look at that picture.  Inspiring isn’t a strong enough word. 


The thing is, I’m not where I want to be.  Not even close.  I still have over 100 lbs. to lose.  I want to be toned.  I want to have muscles and strength and stamina.  But I can do things I couldn’t do a few months ago.  The most mind-blowing part to me is my clothing size.  I ordered some stuff online the other day, and there weren’t any X’s involved.  No 1x, 2x, 3x.  Just an L.  You can’t know how weird that is for me. 


I guess if there’s a point, it’s that my journey continues.  My efforts to “become my true self” are ongoing.  There are areas I’m still exploring, like my career, and what kind of person I want to be when I find the person I want to be with.  But I’m still here.  Still fighting.  Still being formed along with the fundamental parts of me that are changing as I learn to let myself become who I wanted to be all along.  And that’s about the best anyone can do, right? 

Until next time,


And I don’t want the world to see me

Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.

When everything’s made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.


One Response to “…I Just Want You to Know Who I Am”

  1. Meme Says:

    DeeDee, I love reading your work always. Never stop writing. 🙂

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