I took my “before” pictures today. A first for me. I have always thought and even said out loud to my husband, “I should really take a before picture” but that was as far as I ever went with it. Bizarre as it might seem though because I’m a photographer! I understand and appreciate the importance of documenting milestones but this is one I have never had the guts to do.
It is a very raw, harsh, in your face experience. I pretty much started having a panic attack while I was setting up my camera. Which was NOT something I ever expected. Was I really so scared of what I was going to see? Or was it the fact that it was going to be recorded forever and that it could become something that other people are going to see? Was it because I wasn’t going to be able to tell myself “I’m not THAT big” anymore?
Sitting here thinking about it… I think it must be a combination of everything, but I’m very guilty of telling myself that I’m not as big as I am. In a photo I can’t suck-in for a second to imprint that image into my brain verses the one of how I actually look. It’s real and unchanging in that photo. I don’t know that I would be Biggest Loser material, but I’m uncomfortably large. I hate my body. I’m okay with sharing my weight because well, lets face it, you can see how much I weigh. It’s not exactly a secret. But saying used to weigh 217 lbs and documenting it on film in an unflattering, this is me, way is apparently extremely stressful for me.
Now, I’m not ready to share them, but I have them. Which is something that I have never done before. With starting over this time I’m trying to make a few motivational changes. I know I’m going to hit a wall and want to give up. I’m going to reach a place where I’m tired of caring. I know this because that is what has always happened, but this time I’m going to arm myself with tools to keep me on track. Reminders of why I’m doing this. Why I’m not going to fail this time, and I’m going to share the pictures someday, hopefully soon. But not yet.