I won at life this past festive season.

In fact, without extraordinary effort, I lost 5 pounds.

Without feeling restricted, deprived or like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas (from herself).

In my obesity history, I’ve had Turbulent Times on holiday. I remember, year upon year, returning from vacations morose with myself, bloated and self-loathing, a veritable pork sausage bursting at the seams, both of my clothes, and what was left of my faith to fix it.

On one trip to the Middle East, I gained 15lbs in 3 weeks.

I became so swollen with sugar, carbs, and self-deprecation, in fact, that I needed to buy bigger clothes mid-trip!

One of my most mortifying memories is of an excursion to the Grand Bazaar in Tehran, to procure a bigger ‘manteau’, (the sanctioned cultural dress for women in the Islamic Republic).  I stood - The Pork Sausage - in the middle of a clothing shop, while a sweating and flustered retailer assisted my search for ‘a big enough one’ (Persian ladies are generally lithe and lean).

“Bozorg-tar, bozorg-tar’, this Farsi gentleman shrieked into the back of his shop to his fumbling wife, as each new garment failed on fitting.

“Bigger! Bigger!”, he shouted my shame through the most populace part of a very populated place!

Horrifying.

Traumatic.

And I’m not special or alone in this. Weight and body trauma abounds, the world over.

I’ve come a long way since that horrible day at the Tehran Bazaar.

I’ve done an enormous amount of emotional, psychological, spiritual, and physical work on myself.

I took the view that “the cracks are how the light gets in”, and I eventually came to understand that my struggle with weight, food, and eating is a vehicle for healing and self-actualisation. 

I think it’s safe to say that I no longer think, feel, or look like that bewildered woman needing a bigger manteau at the Tehran Bazaar.

Here are the principles that kept me safe, both in the bush and on the beach, this past festive season:

Holidays are no different to working days when it comes to food and eating:

There will be food. There will be thoughts. There will be feelings. And there will be choices. 

I follow Corinne Crabtree, a life coaching guru. She’s wonderful. And this was her assertion, just before the holiday.

It resonated, and I often called it to mind while considering a second serving of dessert or a momentary impulse to inhale a buffet. Food, thoughts, feelings and choices.

I took her idea a step further, and saw an opportunity, on holiday, to practice the intuitive eating I so value – to pay attention to real hunger cues, to eat sufficiently but not excessively, and to notice urges to shift a feeling with food, or to eat from habit and not intention.

This is trickier with back-to-back meetings, appointments and relentless ‘To Do’ lists, during the working year.

A Pound of Cure – As an Expression to Myself That I Care

Many years ago, when first considering weight loss surgery, I stumbled upon a bariatric surgeon with an online platform (Matthew Weiner, for reference), who expounds the idea of “A Pound of Cure”. A pound of vegetables. Every day. To cure ailments and keep well.

I hated the concept, at first brush.

But it’s grown on me and become one of my daily disciplines in recent times.

I quickly realised that a family-focused 3-star beach resort was not going to major in “A Pound of Cure”, and so I purchased for same-day-delivery a tiny slow cooker, and kept it filled with green beans, onions, peas, carrots, tomatoes, and mushrooms throughout our trip.

What’s so important, here, is that this practice wasn’t about vegetables or diet. It was a statement to myself that I care enough about me to do what I need to do to keep well, emotionally, and physically.

I’m sometimes struck by power lyrics and mantras belted out on workout songs – one singer on a download I use shrieks regularly, “Wave your hands in the air; show yourself that you care”.

I think this is simple and profound. Eat your Pound of Cure, as a statement to yourself that you matter.

(Obvious caveat: NOT FOR BARIATRIC NEWBIES – new sleeves and pouches obviously wouldn’t tolerate a pound of ANYTHING).

Exercise 

I nearly died in 2020. Fact.

It changed so much of how I live.

I want to be fit, strong, healthy, and well, for myself, my husband, my girls, my friends, family and my clients.

I want to live.

I have never been an exerciser. Until I found Lisa Raleigh and her “rebounding” (mini trampoline) workouts. I am now utterly in love with my daily ‘power hour’ of jumping and dancing and planking and lunging and squatting. In fact, I have not missed one day of exercise in nearly 6 months.

My daily work is so cerebral. And I SIT while doing it.

It’s been wonderful to get out of my head and into my body.

I never really understood before.

And so, I took my rebounder on holiday. For the first time in my life, I was that chick at the airport, checking in actual sports equipment. At one point, my husband and I hosed ourselves in hilarity at how different this is to years gone by.

But I packed it, I checked it in, I set it up in our hotel room, and I found some time every day to use it.

To show myself that I care.

My Morning Ritual

I had a problem a few years ago that didn’t have a quick solve, and was making me stir-crazy with anxiety. During that chaos, I connected with the idea of a morning ritual; something of a spiritual practice. I implemented it then, to save myself, and I’ve maintained it ever since.

I set intentions for the day, I journal about things that trouble me, I read, I plan, and I am still. Sometimes I meditate, sometimes I write affirmations, sometimes I listen to podcasts.

It makes for calm, clear, connected days.

It’s even more special with a sea-view, or with warthogs snuffling in the dirt around me.

I woke before my family, each day, and made sure that I had this important time, even on holiday.

How About You?

Maybe you’re a bariatric patient, pre- or post-surgery, with or without regain.

Maybe you’ve never struggled with weight or eating in your life. But you can drink, fight, overwork, spend or party for the A-Team.

This article is not about vegetables, trampolines, or journals.

This post is about cracks and light and showing ourselves that we care.

I wrote this because I think it’s relatable. No matter what your ‘cracks’ are.

The cracks are how the light gets in.

MY INVITATION TO YOU:

If I’ve learnt one thing, it’s that life is best navigated with reflection, and connection to self. And the only way to go from being the despairing (fat) girl in the market, to the woman checking in exercise equipment, is to go inwards and learn how to do life on life’s terms. With grace, kindness and big dollops of self-love and self-care.

I invite you to reach for a piece of paper and a pen, and to scribble about how and where you too could rescue yourself.