Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Tag: diet


Some of my friends have always had an excellent relationship with their bodies. They know when they are bloated, or one or two kilos over what is comfortable for them, and then they quietly sort it out by watching what they eat for a week or two. They are in balance. It is a good combination of pride in their bodies and how they look, health, and reality. I have never really been one of those people. Don’t get me wrong, I like looking and feeling good, but I don’t like spending time or energy on it. I find it very boring.

Also, while I didn’t have the best advice about my body while I was growing up, with family members projecting their body weight issues onto me, I still managed to be very uncomplicated around my body and food. This meant that I was seldom overweight, until I gave up smoking 11 years ago.

What I remember feeling most often when I was 17kgs heavier was resignation. I was resigned to my middle life as a fat person. I got used to the pictures of a fat me on stage. I felt embarrassed, but resigned. I felt unhappy, but resigned. I felt not myself, but resigned. Until I decided that it was important to change and feel different. Important. I am so excited that I made that decision, and put it into practice. Because it is important. And I feel like I have made such an important decision.

The impact of that is huge. I am allowing myself to feel proud about my body. I am allowing myself to spend time on what I look like. Well, more time than I did before. I talk to everyone about it, honestly and with commitment. I want to have a sustained, healthy, committed relationship with my body. I want it to work for me, and when it does, I have a life that is so much better.

The Trigger

I can pinpoint the exact moment I decided, that’s it. No more. I am done. We had gone to Reunion for the most divine improv festival. It was so, so hot and I felt like a whale in my body. But I managed to get away with not looking in mirrors, and wearing those huge Thai fisherman’s pants and vests. When I look back I remember a sense of overwhelming discomfort because I was so heavy and big and bloated. Eating all that fruit and bread and beer didn’t help either. And then we came home and I saw the photographs that others had posted of me, on Facebum. They were photos that I hadn’t chosen or edited or approved. And I was absolutely horrified and shocked. I couldn’t believe my eyes. That huge, fat old lady was me. Here is one of those photos. It’s not the worst one, but it is a good example.

That was it. And then the right thing happened at exactly the right time. We were walking the dogs and chatting to another dog walking owner and I suddenly realised that she was half the size she had always been. Christa told me what she had been doing; the Dukan diet. I went home and started doing the research. I bought oat bran and fat-free cottage cheese, and fish, and eggs. I bit the bullet and just dived straight in. I am not sure how many kilos I lost in that first week. My friend Peter Hayes died, on Big Friendly’s birthday. Things were not terribly normal. And I didn’t even have a scale to weigh myself. But somehow, for me, it was the right start; crazy, tempestuous, illogical and manic. By the end of that first ”attack phase” of pure protein (which I didn’t do properly when I think back) I had lost kilos, but I didn’t even know how many. And I had stopped carbs and sugar, and the cravings were gone.

I guess I needed a trigger. My weight had become a constantly creeping up problem. I was embarrassed, uncomfortable and resigned. Until the trigger. Here is a picture of me yesterday. Most importantly, I am 100% more alive.

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