Out of all the expectations in the world, I think the worst are what we expect of ourselves. We expect to be smart and savvy. Do well at school, succeed at work or career. Be beautiful and stylish. Get married and have children. Be the greatest parents in the history of parenting. Just look at social media: pinterest is successful because of our need to have picture perfect lives. Facebook and Instagram allow us to peak at other lives, causing us all to have….expectations of ourselves.
We all do it to a certain degree- we want a nicely appointed room to entertain people in, or serve a gorgeous dinner, throw a themed party. We want things to be just so. No matter unrealistic our expectations get. No matter how secure we are, the Jones family is right over there with there perfect green grass….
I like to think that I am somewhat level headed. I don’t really covet thy neighbors goods (though Diane carved up a chicken on her blog yesterday and I was a little envious of how she took it apart) If I really want to do something, I generally get it done: I have my lists and plans and bucket lists, and I try to keep it real.
But I’m still having my weight issues.
See, this is where my Facebook envy comes in. I don’t look enviously at the lives of others. Facebook has this annoying habit of showing us “Remember” pictures.
Oh how I hate to see pictures of me from seven years ago.
Up until I was 50 I was a not thin but not heavy person. I was reasonably content with how I looked and how I felt about how I looked.
I don’t look like that anymore.
I am not happy that I don’t look like that anymore.
Menopause didn’t give me hot flashes, or moodiness, or the majority of the symptoms that go along with it. But…it slowed down my reasonably fast metabolism to that of a sloth…
And the weight came on….
I exercise daily. In fact, I am presently in my gym shorts and tank top and will be hitting the gym after I hit publish. (sidenote- I often read blogs on the elliptical, so if a response is ever total gibberish you know it’s because I can’t step and type- Claudette has taken to warning me if any post might make me trip….)
So yes: gym- check.
I walk everywhere and exceed the 10,000 step thing. I take the stairs. Blah blah blah.
I eat just like I did before.
That’s the problem: I love food. I love cooking. I love trying new things. I continue to do all these things because I love them. Alas, they don’t love my body. Food mocks me now, like a bad ex boyfriend showing all his pictures on Facebook…
My love of food has collided with my love of weighing less.
I want to lose weight, but I don’t want to break up with food.
I have unreasonable expectations of my post menopause body. I expect it to do all the same things it did before, and because it doesn’t I get mad. I am mad at my metabolism for letting me down. I am mad at food for being so yummy. I am mad at cooking because it’s so much fun.
I need to get my expectations in line with one of these things. I just don’t know which one it will be.