I’ve said this many times before, but Weight Watchers has changed my life. More accurately, the people in my Thursday meetings in Westchester County (half an hour or so outside of New York City) changed my life.
When I walked into that meeting almost two years ago, I was welcomed immediately! And when I left that evening, I knew that I had just been exactly where I needed to be. For the next year and a half, I walked into that group every Thursday – often times staying for two meetings because I had bonded with so many in both.
And these members, including our incredible leader and equally amazing receptionist, were there to hug me when I was having a rough time and to celebrate every little accomplishment. They celebrated when I reached the 100 pounds mark, and when I was at my lowest point at the end, many of them pulled me aside and reminded me that it wouldn’t always feel so bad.
Together, we walked a 5k, though several of us hadn’t done it before. We donated hundreds of pounds locally during the Lose For Good campaign each year and most importantly, we were able to relate and understand our fears and accomplishments together.
I made friends that I thought I’d keep for a lifetime, and that’s where it gets scary. It has been months since I last attended a meeting in New York, but it’s time to go back. When I left New York, everything hurt…my heart, my body and my mind. I was utterly miserable. I was saddened by the loss of love that I believed I had (even if I could not yet see that some of the blame was mine.) I talked about it, cried about it and eventually of tired of hearing myself whine so I stopped.
I stopped blogging about the “gut-wrenching agony” – yes, a flair for the dramatic, I know. I stopped talking about how unhappy I was. I changed my phone number and stopped lamenting over my regrets…I cut out as much negativity as I could, and after a few months I started feeling better.
But in cutting out the painful parts, I cut out the good parts too. It was easier to ignore the people who meant something to me than to admit that I had been wrong in any way. I wasn’t sure who to trust or who liked me or who had taken the other side. It seemed easier to “cut my losses” than to face the fear of rejection.
Now, several months later, I’ve begun dealing with the anger I feel toward others as well as myself. And I miss my friends. Some of them are gone forever, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But now, looking at the big picture, it seems overly dramatic (even for me) to assume that everyone I loved hates me. In fact, most of them probably thought nothing of it apart from maybe wondering why I fell off of the earth. And after talking with a close friend moments ago for the first time in months, I am relieved to know that those silly fears were just that – silly fears.
I’ve always said that I wanted to go back to NY, but this self-doubt and rejection didn’t surface until the ticket was purchased. And these particular fears took me by surprise. I’m still nervous, but I will not let that keep me from walking into that Weight Watchers meeting filled with people that mean something to me. There may be people who no longer like me or those who expect an explanation, but there could also be a heart-warming homecoming complete with a weigh-in and a hug.
I’m going to hope for the latter and show up regardless because I am done letting fear rule my life. This whole process is scary, but as I said in a recent post, it’s not nearly as scary as giving up before I try.