Fear of failure and the power to believe.

I'm doing it - really doing it! This maintenance thing that is both as boring and as scary as the weightloss process itself is being done. One day at a time and one decision at a time but I'm doing it!

Yeah me!

It's scary though. I have so much excellent experience with failure at this game. All the previous times I've lost a few or many pounds only to have them ambush me again without warning. All those failed attempts to start dieting. All those half baked attempts at exercise. I can't count the number of times I've successfully lost enough weight to go buy a new, smaller sized pair of jeans only to have them relegated to the back of the closet within a few weeks. Yes, failure has followed me around like a stalker for many years and doing this maintenance thing means confronting those fears daily.

I've struggled for many years with using an external locus of control in my life; basically an approach that many perfectionists use to protect our delicate ego from facing the harsh reality of our human imperfection. If I forgot to do something, I could always find something else to blame. If I ate too much or exercised too little, I could blame that on something or someone too. I used other people to determine if I were fat or thin enough and always felt judged by them. I was sure people watched what I ate or wore or said or did - and felt bad or good about all of those things based on what I thought they were thinking about me!

It's not a happy place to live because, if other people or circumstances are to blame for everything wrong in your life, you don't have to take any responsibility for fixing things - it's out of your control after all. So, I've had to work hard on squelching the inner voice of perfectionism in my head while I was working with the rest of my damaged psyche. The sad truth is that we perfectionists don't think we're perfect, we think we're supposed to be and are saddened daily by our failure to be perfect... another failure.

It's hurting my head to even think about it.

No, I am not perfect and I am not even supposed to be. But that doesn't mean I'm going to fail at this crazy thing. Not this time. I have too much invested in my recovery to believe 6 homemade chocolate chip cookies (eaten warm from the oven, and they weren't small either) have any real meaning in the grand scheme of this journey. Making a choice to eat cookies does not mean I'm failing - it means I'm human and that's okay because I can be in control - not the cookies.

So, here I am, a recovering perfectionist learning to believe that maintenance can be imperfectly done without failing at it. Trusting that I have the power to eat less on the days after the cookie binge; honestly reporting my calories in the nutrition calculator; not justifying the indulgence based on the 700 cals burned that morning in a run. Just making daily choices that make sense in the grand scheme of an imperfect life.

That is success and is my power.