It’s January again. Time for New Year’s Resolutions. Anyone who has a few (or many) pounds to lose will most likely have “lose weight” at the top of their list. It’s such a cliché now that it’s laughable. If it worked, we wouldn’t have so many overweight people in our country. If it worked, it wouldn’t be on so many people’s lists each and every year. 

Medically, I am considered “morbidly obese.”  A little more than half a decade ago, I was excited to be close to my goal of being merely “extremely obese.”  (Hey!  A girl’s got to look on the bright side!)  I would’ve been – and would still be -- very happy with that goal; it’s a comfortable weight for me, and it looks good on me.

However, like virtually all of my weight goals since childhood, I never quite made it to “extremely obese.” I did get close – I was doing Weight Watchers at the time, and I was attending with my husband and my youngest daughter. But a beloved leader moved on, the Program changed, and – try as I might – I could not get that last five pounds off. I eventually quit Weight Watchers – again – and started the My Fitness Pal app on my smart phone. Things were once more rolling along!

Then, my favorite yoga instructor (the same daughter!) left to pursue other goals, and another support was knocked out from under me. This, in turn, affected my motivation to keep up on My Fitness Pal. On top of this all, I experienced some significant non-weight related health issues, medication changes, job changes, and care-for-elder changes. Sound familiar to anyone?

In my experience, losing weight – especially a great deal of weight – takes a perfect alignment of the planets. When you find it, it’s magical, and you begin to wonder why you had any problems in the first place.  But, push one of the globes slightly out of orbit, and a person can easily crash and burn. It’s frustrating and defeating. In a society where we’re supposed to value an “ideal” weight above everything else (except maybe money), the crushing blow of failure can stop your whole life.   

This year, 2018, I am fewer than 10 pounds from my highest weight ever.  The last time I was here was at the turn of the century. (You know, the year 2000?  I’ve always wanted to say “at the turn of the century”!)  That was almost 20 years ago.  I sincerely never thought I’d ever weigh this much again in my life!  I’ve been angry with  myself, and I ask myself, “How did you let this happen?”

Why doesn’t even matter. What matters is that I don’t like this, and I have to find a way out.  I feel beaten and alone, and I’m struggling to keep loving myself. 

Just this morning I was teary-eyed and thinking that the struggle was an impossible task.  But then Vince called, noticed the tears in my voice, and said, “You are going to lose the weight again!  I have no doubt!  You are already seeing someone about an eating disorder, and I will do anything I can to help.  We will BOTH start recording our food again.  You’ve done this before, and you will do it again.  I KNOW it!”

Many times I haven’t wanted to try anymore, both at losing weight and at regaining happiness, but I have a secret weapon that keeps me going and keeps me liking at least a part of myself: I have a Vince.

First and foremost, I have a Vince who continually reminds me how beautiful I am.

I have a Vince who assures me that I didn’t “let this happen” – that I have done my best in my extremely challenging Perfect Storm.

I have a Vince who tells me that everything is O.K.

I have a Vince who encourages me to write down what I eat by doing the same thing himself (even though his weight issues are really just about maintaining his natural thinness.  You’ve seen the pictures on our blog.)

I have a Vince who gets me off the couch and out of the house so that I get outside of myself and quit wallowing in self-pity.

I have a Vince who leaves me little notes almost every day on the bathroom mirror reminding me of all my talents and telling me how much I mean to him and to his life.

I have a Vince who says, “You’re not alone: we’re in this together.  We do everything together.”

I have a Vince who tells me he “loves me more than life itself” each and every day.

I have a Vince who doesn’t get discouraged about my weight even though I do.

I have a Vince who goes with me to Lane Bryant to shop for larger clothes and doesn’t judge.

I have a Vince who loves me no matter what.

When I listen to my friends tell me about their challenges in life, I hug them and listen to them and give them advice when they ask for it.  But no matter how hard I try, I cannot be their Vince.  There is only one Vince in the world, and by some beautiful miracle, he is my Vince.  Even though I am fat and struggle with depression and low self-esteem, I have a Vince, and I wouldn’t trade my life with anyone. 

When Vince came out to me years back, he said he wished he could remove that part of himself that was was sexually attracted to men.  For just a moment, I thought about what that would be like.  But, almost immediately, I realized that, with any change in his sexuality or personality or life experiences, he simply would not be Vince.  Vince is creative, passionate, funny, talented, intelligent, caring, take charge, over-the-top, masculine acting, and yes sometimes a little feminine acting too. If the Universe were able to take the gay out of Vince, what else would go with it? Who would Vince be? I married a Vince, and I loved a Vince, and I needed a Vince more than I even knew back then. 

Don’t ever change, my lovely Vince.  I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I never want to find out.