Down Zero, Up Four

The love/hate (a little less love, a little more hate) relationship I have with my body is not something that's generally up for public discussion. Or private discussion, for that matter. Or any discussion, really. It is my own, personal elephant in the room: something that's always overwhelmingly there, yet never, never talked about.

Several reasons contribute to this.

I am, first and foremost, a feminist. And no, this doesn't take away from anything I feel for my boyfriend (he is wonderful, amazing, inspiring). To me, being a feminist has nothing to do with feeling superior over men and everything to do with feeling equal to men.

And in order for women to be equal with men, they must, must, must be recognized for something beyond their looks. Their capabilities, accomplishments, even their hopes and fears -- anything but their looks.

Secondly, although I could probably stand to lose a few pounds, I recognize that I am, by no stretch of the imagination, obese -- it's important to acknowledge this because I love children and I know children are very, very perceptive. Little girls, especially, pick up on things when perfectly skinny women say, "I'm so fat!" I would never want to be that kind of person, who misleads little girls -- especially my beautiful three-year-old niece Grace, who is stunningly perfect as is -- by vocally complaining about imagined flaws.

It is very important to me to teach my niece that we should recognize women for their strengths -- not looks. We should recognize women for their accomplishments -- not looks. We should recognize women for the way they lead their lives -- not looks.

That said, it's also important for kids, women, everyone to understand that nobody is perfect. There's nothing wrong with striving to be healthier. There's nothing wrong with acknowledging: I want to look better, feel better, and be better than I am. Certainly, vanity plays into this. But honesty does, too. And honestly acknowledging our imperfections? I can think of nothing healthier.

So, long story short. I've decided to chronicle my weight loss efforts, even though that's not normally something I'd write about, because I want to be honest in the way I present myself: as a real, flawed, genuine person who is always striving to improve herself.

My parents and I are participating in our own version of The Biggest Loser, spawned from a devout interest in the show and an equally devout desire to better ourselves. Each week, we weigh in, just as the contestants do. The one who loses the least amount of weight has to pay $5. The one in the middle has to pay $3 and the winner $0. By the end of the show, in a few months, the family's Biggest Loser gets to keep the pot of money.

Let me be honest for a second, and for those named either Mom or Dad, I apologize. When we started this little project, I thought it was going to be incredibly easy. After all, my parents are in their fifties, they don't have the best diets ever, and they don't work out nearly as often as I do. Piece of cake, right?

Um, no. During the first week of competition, using the strategy that "This will be so easy, I don't really have to do anything," I managed to gain four pounds. Yes, I said it -- I gained four pounds! Obviously, I had to pay $5 that week. It was humiliating, defeating, demoralizing...

And totally motivating. Since that weigh-in, I've made a lot of changes in my diet and exercise routine. And I don't know what the numbers will reflect at the weigh-in tonight, but I do know that I feel much better.

I used to run on chemicals -- diet coke chemicals, processed food chemicals, alcoholic beverage chemicals. This week, I've been running on fresh veggies and fruits, whole grains, lean proteins, and lots of sweat at the gym.

Like I said, I don't know what the numbers will reflect, but I already feel the changes. I'm craving less crappy food, I have more energy ... oh, and I can barely move because I'm so freaking sore.

We'll see where this goes. For once, I'm making it my goal to be honest about those things I'm never honest about: my weight, my body, my image, for better, for worse.