最后的节食　My Last Diet

Take charge！“I must do something”always solves more problems than“Something must be done.”

～Author Unknown

So far, it had been like any other speaking trip：decent fight, new city, nice hotel, my room service tab taken care of.

Mmmm. Room service.

But shortly after I boarded my flight home, there was a glitch：after much concentration and effort-all the while trying to make the process look“normal”-I hadn't succeeded in buckling my seat-belt. How I'd come to hate this moment, when no matter how well I thought I'd camouflaged it, I had to acknowledge the reality of my belly.But the crisis usually passed and I conveniently forgot.

Now I was panic-stricken：Would I have to ask the fight attendant for help?Did they have extenders for people like me?

I sucked it in as best I could and gave it one more try. Click.A sigh of relief.But what about the next time?

Sigh and Surrender had been the name of the game for me for twenty years as I shifted up from petites to misses to what they politely call Woman-omitting the still silently screaming adjective Big/Abundant/and let's face it：FAT. As I continued to march my ponderous way up the clothes rack, at 22w I wondered what was to come：I was on the next-to-the-last size.

Today, after losing 90 pounds, I look back and see a spirit of defeat I can hardly believe was part of me-white fags everywhere！

Where did it start?Was it my obsessively-thin mother who wore only skintight 50s sheath dresses-a woman anorexic way back before the problem had a name?As a 5'5“teen weighing in at 135 pounds, I was hopelessly convinced that I was fat-I only had to look at my perfect mom to be reminded.

Was it the early sexual abuse which eventually led me to promiscuity, drugs and alcohol during my twenties and thirties?Was it my desire to become a good mother that led me to distance myself from my earlier social confusion by making myself as shapeless and unattractive as possible?

The answers to these questions are not as important as the fact that it wasn't until I started losing weight that I began asking：Why would a woman with several decades of life still ahead cripple herself, her family and her future by lugging around an extra hundred pounds?

For me, being fat-and, yes, I use the f-word because early on I decided honesty was the best policy-was not a victim less crime. With a husband and eight children still at home I was certainly not the wife and mother I could have/would have/should have been.As the excess inches peeled off, so did my denial.As my energy level increased, I came to grips with the fact that through the years I had become less and less involved in the things we had once loved：the outdoors, hiking, discovering new places.If forced past my reluctance to don a bathing suit, I sat glued to one spot until the ordeal was over.

Early on I felt the need to acknowledge the loss my obesity represented to my family. No matter their protestations-“We love you the way you are, Mommy！”-they were dealing with a mom twice the size she should have been with half the get-up-and-go.

I thought my family's acceptance meant unconditional love. Looking back ninety pounds lighter, I see it means something else：hopelessness and denial.

While my original resolution was shaped as a simple imperative-Lose Weight！-this was just one example of the unexpected insights and opportunities for growth that came with my sticking to it.

There was also letting go of my sense of entitlement. Since I was responsible for feeding my family-none of whom had a weight problem-I had to learn to handle food without sampling it myself.As I resisted the nagging impulse to bring my hand to my mouth, I could feel another layer of denial being stripped away.I had eaten more than I'd admitted to myself.

I resisted self-pity by imagining a broke bank teller who had to handle other people's money all day while struggling to pay his own bills. I fought my envy of those gifted with I-can-eat-and-eat-and-not-gain-weight metabolisms by thinking of my son Jonny who has Down syndrome and has to work a lot harder than others, yet who is consistently full of joy.

As I learned how much less I needed to eat to survive and thrive, I found the same true in other areas of my life. I found myself cleaning cut closets and drawers-riding the downsizing trend.It seemed in every area of our family's life, I'd over-consumed：Too many clothes, toys, dishes, knickknacks.

As I lost my reluctance to let things go, I found a spirit of liberation that was as emotionally exhilarating as the new freedom which allowed me to sprint to the bus stop to meet my kids-without running out of breath at all.

At the doctor's office eighteen months later, when the nurse weighed my son in at ninety pounds-the exact amount I'd lost-I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But it all became clear, as I imagined carrying him with me 24/7，how I'd burdened myself while trying to pretend my life was normal.

In fact, as I freed myself from excess weight, I found my imagination soaring as my mental energy was no longer consumed with denial of what had truly been my greatest limitation-a limitation I had to admit had been completely self-imposed.

I won't gloss over the grieving process I've had to deal with-for the loss of the years before my big resolution. But the smorgasbord of unexpected benefits-the emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and economic freedom I've gained from losing weight have made a profound difference on the rest of my life.

Today when I scrunch into my seat for a fight and pull that seat belt tight, my seat mate may wonder why the big smile. All I can say is that seat belt means so much more to me.It's a reminder that all it takes to turn your life around is to finally say，“I've had enough.”And in cases like mine, to learn to say it every day for the rest of your life.

～Barbara Curtis

冲啊！“我必须做些什么”比“有些事情非做不可”能解决更多问题。

——佚名

到目前为止，这次就像其他司空见惯的旅行一样：惬意的航班，耳目一新的城市，舒适的旅馆，还有周到的客房服务卡片。

哦，客房服务。

但是我刚登上回家的飞机时，就遇上了一个小问题：尽管我装作若无其事，但费了半天劲也没能扣好座位上的安全带。我太讨厌这种时候了，不管自己伪装得多么好，都必须承认事实——肚子太大了。但我常常好了伤疤忘了疼，很快就把这点不愉快忘得一干二净。

现在我有些惶恐不安了：要叫乘务员帮忙吗？他们有为我这样的人准备加长安全带吗？

我尽可能地收腹，又试了一次，咔！我如释重负地舒了口气。可下一次怎么办？

20年来，我从娇小的女孩长成为少女，然后大家又开始礼貌地称我为女士，除了叹气和无可奈何，我别无他法。因为我知道，虽然他们没有说出来，但有一个形容词一直在默默地尖叫：强壮、丰满，或者干脆说出来吧——胖。衣架上的衣服尺寸一路飙升。到22W时，我真不知道接下来还会发生什么，因为比22W大的就只有一个尺寸了。

现在，我已经成功瘦了将近90磅。回顾往事，不敢相信自己竟然有那么强烈的挫败感，几乎每时每刻都碰一鼻子灰！

这种挫败感是从什么时候开始的呢？是因为看到妈妈苗条得那么迷人，只穿着50S尺码的紧身连衣裙吗？用现在的观点看，她绝对是厌食症患者。只是在那个时代，还不这么说呢。而我那时只是个1.65米的少女，体重135磅左右，其实是标准身材，但只要一对照妈妈完美的体形，我就只好绝望地承认自己是个胖子。

早年的性虐待导致我二三十岁时放荡无度、嗑药酗酒，是因为这样才变胖的吗？还是因为我想做一位好母亲，所以尽可能地把自己的身材弄糟。这样弄得自己毫无魅力可言，才能和原来混乱的社交生活一刀两断？

直到我开始减肥时，我才不断问自己一个问题：为什么一个女人放着将来几十年的生活不好好过，却要为了减肥和自己、和家庭、和未来作践自己？上面那些问题的答案与这个事实相比都显得不重要了。

对于我来说，肥胖并不是什么罪过，对，我用了“肥胖”这个词。因为早就想明白了，实事求是才是上策！家里还有老公和八个孩子，我也不是什么理想的贤妻良母，以后可能也永远当不了。但随着体重越来越轻，我逐渐承认自己确实很胖。减肥后，我的精力越来越充沛，也逐渐发现一个事实：这么多年来，我对曾经喜欢做的事情越来越没有激情，比如：户外活动、徒步旅行、到没去过的地方游玩。过去，如果我不得不穿上泳衣，我就会一直坐在一个地方不下水，等到这个折磨人的活动结束。

开始不久，我觉得有必要把我减肥这件事告诉家人。不过，他们总会反驳道：“妈咪，我们就喜欢这样的你！”他们得与比常人胖两圈的妈妈相处呢，而且我这么胖的人可没法像别的妈妈一样有活力。

我原来认为家里人能够接受我，只是出自无条件的爱。但如今，想想当时的我，比现在重90磅，我觉得他们能接受那样的我，是因为他们看不到希望，也在自欺欺人。

我一开始的决心逐渐演变成简单却急迫的任务，那就是减肥！与此同时，我不断坚定决心，也得到了意外的启迪和成长的机会。

我也开始放弃自己的“特权”了。由于我要负责全家的饮食（他们都没有肥胖问题），我必须要克制自己，给他们做完饭，不能以“试试味道怎么样”而大吃特吃了。能够抵制往嘴里塞东西的冲动时，我发现自己又勇敢地往前迈了一步，不再否认事实，而是承认我以前吃得确实太多了。

我负责做饭，自己却不能吃。这种悲惨情形像极了某个拮据的银行出纳，整天帮别人理财，自己却付不起账单。这个人比我惨多了，一想到这，我就不再自怨自艾。我努力不去嫉妒那些新陈代谢很快、吃再多也不长胖的人，脑子里全是我的儿子约翰尼。约翰尼患上了唐氏综合征18，所以得比其他人付出更多的努力，但他一直活得很开心。

当我明白不需吃那么多就能够生存下去，就能够活得有滋有味时，我也发现这条真理适用于生活的其他方面。我开始整理衣柜和抽屉，给它们也瘦瘦身。我似乎在家庭生活的方方面面都铺张浪费，衣服、玩具、盘子和小装饰品都买得太多了。

我不再追求物质享受，觉得自己的心灵也摆脱了束缚，重获自由让我情绪高涨。我冲刺似的跑到公交车站接孩子。这一回，我没有上气不接下气了。

18个月后，我来到医生的办公室。护士给儿子称体重——差不多90磅，正好是我减去的重量，真不知道是喜还是悲。但一切都变得明了了，我以前时时刻刻都得含辛茹苦地照顾儿子，还得装作生活很正常，那压力大得可想而知！

事实上，当我从肥胖中解脱出来的时候，我也不再花费心思否认那些限制自身的不利条件，思维也插上了想象的翅膀。其实，那些不得不承认的限制条件也是我自找的。

我并不想把痛苦的奋斗过程尘封起来。在作出重大决定前，我可是承受了多年的失败。但各种意料之外的收获却接踵而至，情感方面的、知识方面的、精神方面的，还有经济方面的，这些也对我以后的生活造成了深远的影响。

今天，当我安安稳稳地蜷缩在飞机座位上，扣紧安全带时，旁边的乘客肯定很奇怪，为什么我笑得如此灿烂。我想说的是，座位上的安全带对于我来说意义重大。它时刻提醒我，改变生活只需要喊一句“我受够了”就行。如果你的经历跟我一样，那不妨每天都说上一遍吧。

——芭芭拉·柯蒂斯