She asked me as if it was the most routine question.
As if I hadn’t thought about it a million times before.
As if it wasn’t the only thing I had thought about for decades.
What was my goal weight?
I wished I had an answer.
All of a sudden I felt completely clueless about what I wanted, now that someone was actually asking me.
I had no idea what number to pick.
I had never been at a healthy weight in the entirety of my adult life, and I could scarcely remember the last time that I had been.
Maybe back in high school? But certainly not at any time since.
Most people on a weight-loss journey have a time frozen in history, with which to base their goal upon. A time when they can recall, that they had felt good about themselves, and were pleased with their physical appearance. To be able to say, “I want to be the weight that I was before I had my children”, or “…when I got married.”
I had no such time to harken back to. For me that time never existed.
So I went to my BMI calculator, typed in my height, and through a bit of trial and error, found the very first number that would catagorize me as “normal”.
I thought that seeing that word would bring me comfort, but instead it made me wonder…
“What is normal for me?”
All of a sudden I felt unsettled, and without a destination.
“Who am I down under here, under these layers of extra pounds?”
I realized, that I had no idea who the person underneath all of that really was.
Underneath those layers of unchecked emotions-
Those layers of bad feelings about myself-
All of those layers of added protection that I had built up to keep all of the negative chatter from piercing what was left of my fragile self-esteem.
What would I find when all of that was gone…when I was finally “normal”?
When all of the weight was lifted, and the person trapped inside, could finally climb out of the dark cave, and feel the sun on her face.
The thing about pain and discomfort, is that if you deal with it long enough, you will begin to slowly adjust to its presence.
You begin to wear it like armor.
And eventually it becomes part of you, in a way that seems “normal”.
In a way that you gradually accept it over time.
In a way that you incoorporate it into your everyday life, and endure its burden.
And you don’t notice its impact, until you experience its absence.
I mean, I never really knew how bad I was feeling all of those years, until I actually started feeling better.
Until I redefined my “normal”.
So what I discovered was, that “normal” changes, according to how you define it.
Who are we really, if not the sum of our own experiences?
And after having formed the whole of who I was through the eyes and the”normals” of obesity, through my self imposed limitations, and through these “adjustments”…
It made me strong.
Stronger than I ever thought I could be.
Strong enough to get through to the other side of this journey, by simply changing what “normal” meant for me.
I had no idea how to wrap my mind around feeling good, feeling proud of myself, or feeling worthy.
But being comfortable in your own skin is where “normal” starts.
Our bodies are amazing vessels for many things, and they can take us to places that we may never even dreamed of going.
And the only limitations we have, are those that we impose upon ourselves.
So, once we realize that normal evolves, we can begin to re-define it, and shape it into a “new normal”.
Everything about you is to be celebrated.
And once you embrace the journey toward finding your truest self, the layers can begin to fall away, to finally reveal the beautiful treasures hidden underneath the surface.
It’s a “new normal”, and we all seek its wisdom.
So, “What’s my goal weight?” you ask?
Well, my answer has changed…
My goal now…is NOT to wait.
My goal is to be happy, and healthy, and to be “my normal”.
The rest is just a number,
and a number won’t define me, or make me “normal”-
Living my best life will do that.