Weight Watchers asks its members hypothetically, “What’s your why?”
I never really had an answer. Because I didn’t even know what my “what” was.
So what’s “what”? To lose weight, get healthy? Well, duh.
It’s like when my AP English teacher asked us to write an essay on what we’d do with three wishes. I wrote a very practical (and totally half-assed), “I want a million dollars, I want it to come without strings attached, and I want three more wishes.”
I never got an F in my life. Not from this teacher, whom I dazzled with my creative poetry and off-the-wall approaches to her assignments. I got an F on that one, though.
My “what” is evolving. And I am checking things off the list without even knowing it.
Buying boots that don’t say “wide calf” … buying average-size wigs and headbands rather than the limited choices for big ones (check) … walking without “chub rub” or one pant leg riding up … driving without the seatbelt choking me (check) … not having so much weight on my bladder because it’s f’ing annoying to pee once an hour, every hour … being able to shop in the juniors’ department near-exclusively (check) … being able to jog/run (check) … being able to fit comfortably on a metro or airplane seat without bleeding over the sides (check) … being able to use a laptop on a plane (check, although eff those who recline their seats in that tiny space) … etc.
Given that this is “what’s what,” I have a better idea of the why.
Because, knee socks.
I come from a family where everyone dies young. From no healthcare at all to lousy healthcare. So it’s important for me to take care of myself. To use natural remedies wherever possible.
I drink every kind of tea under the sun rather than taking meds to help my sleep, my allergies or my body processes.
So basically I don’t want to get sick(er). And having a pudgy pork roast ass doesn’t exactly help in that regard.
My family has been pretty sedentary. Looking out across the generations, I was one of probably two finish college. The women were mainly homemakers and the men fought for the Army and then retired to the steel mills and other odd jobs when the mills closed.
Nobody really did much in the way of taking walks. Not long ones. Aching joints for one. And always having older family members to take care of who can’t walk far or who can’t leave the house much at all.
I have that with Mom. But she’s trying now. She won’t go down without a fight. And she’s learning it from me.
My why, then, is I want to defy the family health history. I want to live a longer life than they did. I want to be mobile and physically independent and mentally strong.
I don’t want diabetes (we had a lot of that). We have a lot of the “C” word too so I’m really hoping that being healthy for as long as I can would help me to stave off anything of that magnitude. Or at least I’d be in fighting shape should a day like that ever come.
I guess it comes down to how I feel about relationships. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. Don’t want to put up with a dumbass man to help me pay my rent and I don’t want to lean on disengaged healthcare workers to give a fuck whether I live or die or have a halfway comfortable existence. Because I know how that turns out.
My what is living as normal and fulfilling existence as possible. My why is because it’s possible and I’d be a damn fool not to do everything I can to make it happen.
Every witchy girl needs a black kitty …