The Blame Game

Many people will read this blog post or listen to me talk about my weight struggles, and they will say, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you just had a baby 3 months ago, give yourself some time.”  I appreciate the thought, but I am here tell you that there isn’t a baby this side of the equator big enough to account for 60 lbs. of back fat!  Sure, having 2 children in the past 2 years may have been a contributing factor to my weight struggles, but let’s be honest, folks, this is no one’s fault but my own. 

After having ridden the weight roller coaster my entire adult life thus far, I have played the blame game more than once.  In addition to blaming my children for my weight gain, I like to blame my job, my lack of a job, the weather, the holidays, the media, my metabolism, and my husband.  But I just can’t blame someone or something else anymore.   

I think a fat person admitting that her obesity is no one’s fault but her own is like an alcoholic admitting that he has a problem; it’s the first step in the right direction.  If I can admit that I habitually over eat and no one is forcing me to do it, then I can be accountable for my actions, and perhaps begin to exhibit enough self control to put down the donuts and pick up some carrot sticks.  So that’s what this blog entry is all about: publicly admitting to you, my adoring cyber space audience, and myself, that I over eat, I don’t exercise, and I alone am responsible for being overweight.  Today I commit to taking responsibility for my actions and to make healthier choices, no matter what holiday I am celebrating, no matter how good those free cookie samples at the grocery store look, no matter how tired or upset or hungry I am.  I am in control, and from now on I will start acting like it. 

POST SCRIPT: I weighted myself this morning for the first time in weeks, and I am reporting that the scale read 205 lbs.  I didn’t necessarily make any healthier choices today, BUT I did resist snacking incessantly between meals.  I tried to put a coffee or and ice water in my hand instead of an ice cream sandwich or coffee cake.  It is a baby step, but it’s a baby step in the right direction.