I wrote a post while away at Christmas about the fact that I was pleasantly surprised to discover I’d ‘changed’ without really realising it was happening. It seemed I’d become more zen, despite the lack of lightbulb moment signifying the transformation.
And then this past week I shared some exercise goals. I realised I had no desire to learn to run or become fit enough to get through arduous bootcamps. I just wanted to be fit enough to feel comfortable and healthy. On a similar note I expect I’m going to be disappointing my personal trainer who’s worked out how much weight I could lose in the next year on a specific (sustainable) calorie allowance and so forth. I haven’t had the heart to tell him my goal is really to get into exercise enough that I start making sensible food choices…. rather than dieting.
Gone are the days I yearn for a super slim or fit body. (Well, fit would be nice, but…) When goal setting with my trainer, I said I’d like to feel comfortable (with myself) enough to have a relationship. Someday. He asked about specific body parts I thought could allure unsuspecting (but possibly desperate) potential suitors (butt, chest and so forth). I almost gagged on my water. “Ummm… I’m not really worried about that sort of thing,” I told him. And besides, I’d like to think someone was mostly attracted to my mind (and my interminable wit). #obvs 😉
And finally – a true sign I’ve moved on – I gave away some material I’d saved for nearly 20 years. I had two pieces of green silk I’d bought when I lived in Cambodia in 1997. It wasn’t expensive but I’d loved the colour and it had great sentimental value. I’d imagined some fabulous dress, perhaps also with emerald green sequins. I’d wear it for some amazing life-changing event. When I lost enough weight.
And the other piece was a smaller piece of gorgeous pink / gold embroidered material from India. When I lived in Mozambique in 1995-1996 I child-sat for a friend who travelled from Africa to India with her husband for a job interview. They were only gone a few days and their household staff remained. I was a poor volunteer but suddenly had a cook, maid, security guy and driver at my beck and call. And quite frankly their three kids were lovely and quite accustomed to absentee parents.
On her return however, my friend presented me with this small piece of stunning material she’d bought in India. For all I know it was some cheap thing she picked up at the airport on her way home, but it seemed special to me.
I’ve kept it since. Imagining some sort of fabulous halter-neck top, showing lots of my toned tanned back, perhaps with a gold chain or similar across the back. Of course, again… this
dream top would come to fruition WHEN I eventually lost a decent about of weight to wear such a thing.
You may be thinking that suddenly I’ve engaged a dressmaker and am finally getting my dream clothes made – despite not having lost weight (and having gained it).
Well, sorry. No fairytale endings here.
However… as I was feeling a tad poor at Christmas, instead of giving my niece money (my usual fall-back) I gave her the material. I thought she’d appreciate it and knew she’d look great in anything made from it.
Also – it was like I was hanging onto some dream that may never come to fruition. Like keeping size 10 clothes when you’re size 20 and (now) really only aspire to size 14 or 16!
My fears were similar to those in my recent ‘exercise’ post.
Was I giving up?
Much overanalysis later, I realised I wasn’t. I was accepting, but not giving up.
I was ‘accepting’ a new reality. I don’t think I’ve come as far as ‘accepting’ who I am today, but I’m realising that one doesn’t necessarily need to aim for perfection. Again, shooting for the moon is perhaps a thing of the past for me. Being fit and healthy and feeling good in clothes is perhaps enough. Of course I’m a long way from that, but we know from every reality TV show EVER that… it’s a journey.
Have you ever changed your goals or dreams mid-journey?
Late to the party, but Flogging my Blog With Some Grace today.