Why Is It so Hard to Lose Weight?

Why is it so hard to lose weight? I am 28 years old, I’m 5'3'' with “Nanny King” boobs, as my family lovingly refers to them. This is their kind way of saying gigantic and will some day see your knees, because gravity is not kind, boobs.

I eat healthy and I exercise. So why can’t I control my weight? Well, I also love beer, late night pizza, and don’t even get me started on how much I love poutine. I’m also, like most people, under an incredible amount of stress.

I know I’m not alone in the way the number on the scale can affect my outlook on life. Currently, I fall in the overweight range of the body mass index. Today, I am weighing in at 167 lbs.

I can remember my exact weight for many life events.

I was 135 lbs when I graduated high school, I’d lost weight for a school trip to Cuba because I was fearful of wearing a bathing suit around my peers.

I was 140 lbs when I broke up with my high school boyfriend and decided to “enjoy” being in university and all the boys it had to offer.

I was 175 lbs when I got engaged to my husband. I’d started a new job, we were moving into our home but didn’t have access to a kitchen. Working long hours and take-out food took a toll on my body. We went to Florida that year for Christmas, I cried because none of my summer clothes fit. I now own a lot of clothing that says Fort Lauderdale, Florida in large and extra large sizes.

I was 152 lbs on the day that I said “I do” and married my husband. I worked hard to lose the weight and I felt beautiful in my wedding gown.

My weight dropped to 144 lbs during first trimester while carrying my daughter. Too sick to eat anything but raisin bagels and fruit.

I was 187 lbs the morning I delivered my baby girl into the world.

I was 148 lbs when we returned to Toronto so my daughter could have her last surgery at the Hospital for Sick Children. I was this weight when she died.

It’s been four months since losing our daughter and my weight has reached the 170s again. I’m tired, exhausted all the time. I know I’m experiencing depression. I’m in a hole that I can’t seem to dig myself out of. It’s not just my weight, I also look old. My face looks as if it’s experienced an entire lifetime already. I don’t know if it’s aging or more likely the fact that I’ve stopped caring about myself. I no longer take pride in my appearance. I choose my clothes and makeup (or lack of) with the goal of disappearing, or not being noticed.

But a few weeks ago I bought a dress. A sexy dress, with the goal of wearing it to a family wedding in November, 2018.

I grew up in the 90s and have been pretty stoked to see these styles returning. When I saw the tight-fitted lace midi dress, something changed, I had to have it. I wanted to wear that dress and feel good. I wanted to look like Posh Spice and I wanted my husband to see me in that dress. So I bought it.

It came a week later, I excitedly opened the box and pulled it out and tried it on. Squeezed, wiggled, pulled, and tugged would be a better description of the process it took to get the dress on my body. I looked like a sausage. This was not how I pictured my comeback to the world, the day I would feel good and re-enter society.

Now I have a choice, I can buy another dress for the occasion. Sticking this one and the dream in a give away bag or I can lose the weight.

I'm going to try, I have to because I’m tired of giving up and letting life beat me down.

I’m going to write about it, for myself and maybe for others. Because I need an outlet. Once a week, I’ll give an update on my progress which will probably be more life and thoughts-related than my actual process because let’s be honest, we all know how to lose weight, it’s just whether we can commit mentally.