It’s been a busy few weeks. I’ve been on the road a lot, training and teaching people about permanent weight loss. I absolutely love meeting new people and hearing about their challenges and perspectives.
On this trip, I was confronted with two very different angles on weight loss – particularly my weight loss, which is nearing the 100 lb mark. Roughly 74 of those pounds are soundly in the column labeled “permanent weight loss” (measured at 5 years), since I’ve sustained that loss for over 11 years now.
Perspective One
A doctor approached me after a training session (Before I train the coaches in an organization, I host anyone and everyone in the organization who’d like to know more about permanent weight loss. It may seem crazy, but many healthcare professionals still talk “diet” and don’t understand permanent weight loss.)
This doctor had a quizzical look on his face, and I assumed he needed clarification on something I had presented to the group.
Get a load of this!
“I bet you weren’t overweight for a long time, right?” he asked, in a booming, intimating voice.
“No, most of my life,” I answered. “I lost and regained weight for over twenty years before I became successful.”
“Well…,” [sideways glance] “I just don’t believe it. You don’t act like an obese person.”
Hmmmm, what to say? I struggled a moment.
“How does an obese person act?”
“You know, they are mean and belligerent, they hold grudges and act like the world is against them… and they have this huge chip on their shoulder… they are angry at the world and think everybody is against them.”
Whoa! Now, wtf do I say?
“Is that how you see overweight people?”
Weak, but I was looking for an open-ended question!
“Not how I see them. How they are. Every single one of them.”
Well, there’s a generalization for ya, right? I’m thinking of all the people who avoid doctors because they suspect this very thing is lurking behind their beady eyes! I was scrambling, I was trying to speed up my thinking process.
“I remember being angry,” I said. ” I remember suffering in silence with a grudge held in my heart. But I don’t do that anymore.”
“Are you saying you changed? We know they don’t change.”
Isn’t this the crux of the problem, folks? Behind the white coats, the very people we entrust to help us don’t believe we can or will change?
“Well, I did.”
I know, weak answer. I couldn’t think fast enough to come up with anything snazzier.
Perspective Two
The very next day, I was giving a talk to a group of employees at a corporate wellness presentation. I had been talking for about 15 minutes when a woman raised her hand.
“You’re not exactly skinny,” she said.
I weigh about 150, after once weighing 240.
“I don’t see what I have to learn from you,” she said, pushing her way past other audience members, literally forcing a couple of people to run out of her way. “If you’re not skinny, I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”
Luckily, I’ve encountered “her” before. She’s extremely overweight and won’t accept a weight loss of 20, 40, or even 90 lbs. She wants perfection or nothing, and she’ll criticize anything that’s different so she won’t have to listen.
My Perspective
What struck me about these two encounters with different perspectives was this:
1. Both had formed hard opinions about “how it is” – what they think is reality.
2. Both were judgmental and harsh.
3. Neither was listening as I spoke. My message is about the internal change that occurs before we leave food addiction and excess weight behind. Yes, Doctor, everyone can change. They only need to choose to do so, then put in the work to follow through.
And it’s not about a number on the scale or a particular size, or the word “skinny”, it’s about keeping the success you achieve forever.
But also, wasn’t the first guy talking about the second gal? She was reinforcing his stereotype.
Ooooh, I hate that!
For the Record
I’m way past other people’s opinions. I wasn’t hurt by either person, but I did feel a sadness. Sometimes, humans are just so… inhumane. To themselves, and others.
Luckily, only sometimes!
