Some catchphrases just work.

My lovely and talented sister-in-law C. is an inspiration to me. She conquered her life long battle with obesity about 12 years ago and changed her corporate career to become a Life Coach - a perfect choice for her personality and skills. I had a chance to catch up with her last week while on vacation and, as usual, learned a few new things from her.

I can't credit her with creating this saying but she's the first person I heard it from so I give her credit for spreading the idea. We were talking about some of her young work colleagues whose lives look so perfect - gorgeous, thin and making good money, these 3 women have what everyone wants. Success, amazing lives, unbelievable opportunity and, of course, perfect wardrobes. It's hard not to be jealous of women like them - and, in fact, we very often waste energy and do ourselves harm by being exactly that - jealous. But, as C. was telling me about them, it became clear things were not all that they seem. One of the 3 has recently entered a treatment centre for substance abuse. Another went to visit her on a "friends and family" support day and came sobbing to C. the next day describing her own need for treatment for a cocaine addiction and bulimia. We discussed how unhappy these 2 women must be to have these terrible problems and I commented that you never really knew what was going on inside someone's head. C., "well, you know, you can't compare your insides to someone else's outsides. It's just not a fair fight."

Comparing my inside to someone else's outside. How much time and energy have I wasted doing exactly that? And, at what cost? And it is an unfair fight - I get to be the loser everytime I start with this game.

This has become an important discussion topic in my family. My youngest started university yesterday - her second attempt. She's convinced herself that she is the only one who is nervous and anxious. That she is the only one who is afraid she won't make friends. That everyone looks more confident/more intelligent/more outgoing than she. When she called last night to describe how she's made a few great jokes that everyone in her group appreciated, my other daughter said "what do you think the quiet ones were thinking about your outside compared to their insides?" It made me smile to hear that.

I have to stop comparing my insides to the outsides of others. And I have to be aware that now that my outside is looking pretty good, others might need more compassion from me as they compare their insides to my outside. My insides are a work in progress just like everyone else's; trying to make a life that has meaning for me. To judge that against what anyone esle is presenting just isn't worth it.

It's not a fair fight.

I can.

A sparkpeople blog about being able to touch your toes again after a many year inability to do so has got me thinking about all of the things I have achieved on this journey of recovery from obesity. I thought I would talk about them here in case I ever get the urge to return to my unhealthy past! Having these reminders of what has changed (and why) has been good motivation and celebration through these months of maintenance. All tools at the ready! All hands on deck!

I can touch my toes without bending my knees. I can almost get my hand flat on the ground although I have tight hips so it's hard.

I can squat for a long time talking to a small child or playing with a cute dog and stand straight up afterwards without needing a hand up. My knees make an obnoxious crunchy sound but, they do it!

I can run up a flight of stairs 2 at a time. And still breathe at the top.

I can squeeze through a tight place - this is more handy than you know - cars parked too closely beside mine aren't a worry, I need a very few inches to get through.

I can fit boots over my calves - first time since 1978. This is significant - I plan to buy my first pair of winter dress boots in over 30 years!

I can easily change the water cooler jug at work - hoist it up, turn it over, plug it in - voilà - fresh water and no need to wait for a brawny guy to happen along.

I can run 19km without stopping. I'm not entirely sure why anyone would want or need to be able to do this - I'm not entirely sure why I want or need to do it. I just know that I do and I can.

I can get up at 5:30 am to exercise. I used to think 5:30 am was a decent bedtime for a Friday night.

I can laugh at myself. Those of us who suffer from perfectionism don't laugh at our foibles very readily - being able to do so takes courage.

I can make change. I am not so set in my ways that I can't try new things. New ways of thinking. New attitudes and new values. I have always embraced change in my external circumstances - now I can make changes to my internal machine.

I can do 10 full plank style push ups without stopping. I feel like GI-Jane. Without the bad hair.

I can be serene - live without anger or frustration or impatience. I can accept, move beyond, forgive, forget. Releasing negative energy and embracing contentment makes life quieter.

I can sleep all night without heartburn, stress, worry, pain troubling me.

I can bend over to tie my shoes without a change in my breathing.

I can eat healthfully, with satisfaction and delight, without guilt or embarrassment and feel sated.

I can dream. I can set goals. And achieve them.

All of these marvelous achievements! All from a healthy lifestyle that has focussed on my spirit, body and mind. All things I would miss dreadfully if I were to lose them through my own inattention to my needs.

Such strength in 2 little words... I can.

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.