Heads Up: As You Lose Weight You Might Also Lose This

It was a warm spring day a million years ago, and Jen and I were doing what we did every month: having lunch at a beautiful outdoor bistro.

Jen was round, I was round. And for the most part whenever we were together, we were digging in. Together. Yet — unbeknownst to Jen — I was inching closer to making a permanent sweeping change to my identity.

I didn’t mention my plan to Jen because I felt little confidence about what I had in mind. I’d tried so many times to change my eating habits, but this go-round felt different, and I wasn’t ready to go public.

Jen ordered first: a standard entree with salad and rolls, the usual. I ordered a small(ish) bowl of veggies from the appetizer list. No butter. Iced tea please. And coffee (for “dessert”).

At that, a weird vibe blanketed our table.

When the server brought our food, I watched Jen’s eyes track the server as she placed the small bowl in front of me. Jen never said, but the vibe shouted: You ruined lunch!

That was April. Come Christmastime Jen gave me a huge plate of Christmas cookies wrapped in foil.

I doubt I need to tell you, but I couldn’t coexist in the house with my favorite ingredient: calories.

So out those cookies went (to the office or at least that’s what The Scarfer claimed).

In the early days it felt vital that I practice my new behaviors 365/24/7. (Of course allowing for the to-be-expected slips.)

It did not matter — whether on crutches with a broken foot, my beloved Grandma dying, a nightmarish day at work, my birthday — there was no reason for eating outside of my structure. Period. (Except for pregnancy, which meant smart eating, but a lot more of it.)

Occasionally Jen made comments to the effect that I was in a phase and would eventually “get back to normal.” I finally mentioned to her that I was losing, but I didn’t add that I wasn’t merely “trying” to adhere to a smart eating lifestyle, this time I meant to crush it.

I was bummed to see the friendship melt away, but I got it: people evolve and move on to new chapters in life, some friendships can weather a friend’s sweeping change. And some can’t. That’s life.

But Then 2019 Smoked Me

One day my enlightened wisdom on sweeping changes and friendship careened right off the cliff when my best friend from teenhood said good-bye.

Playing a blond Mary Tyler Moore-on-Pilates to frumpy sidekick-me who was always thirty, forty, or whatever-pounds overweight, Karen didn’t freak out at my weight loss exactly, more like she freaked at my years-long weight maintenance.

Karen’d known for years that I’d lost a lot of weight, but I think she assumed I’d eventually regain it.

Even though I’d explained to her that the timing of her visit wouldn’t work — I’d just been given a diagnosis and needed time to process — Karen visited from another state anyway.

Within the first day of her arrival she asked, “So, would you gain weight if it would help your diagnoses?”

At the time I thought, gee, do I really need to answer such a stupid question?

But I responded — also in a snotty tone — that smart eating and keeping my weight down have helped my health situation rather than hurt it. (Sheesh.)

I didn’t add, but was thinking, you lame-brain. (My tone again. So not helping.)

Those weren’t her only hurtful words that weekend. Something was deeply troubling her and I wished I’d gently asked, “What’s going on?” But newly diagnosed, I didn’t have the bandwidth to be patient and tender with anyone. Though in retrospect, that’s exactly what she needed.

My best guess – she never said – is that being devoted to workouts (like she’d always been) wasn’t slowing the progression of pounds we all navigate after 50. I’m betting that it was maddening to workout out — hard — on a daily basis only to feel the pounds adding up.

While Karen knows tons about smart workouts, I know tons about smart eating.

I wish we could have had a heart-to-heart on midlife weight gain. I wish we’d talked about our changing bodies, that midlife required a new way of eating, and how working out alone was no longer the answer.

My Takeaway

It’s been over two years since we stopped talking. I miss Karen. I reached out to her once, but received a curt, “my best to you in all your endeavors” response. My friend defaults into formal and flowery language when she’s angry.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it became clear that we wouldn’t be getting back to our friendship.

Still, I send her a Christmas card every December with my new cell number written big on the back.

As we lose weight – and work hard on how we think about, and relate, to food – we’re choosing to trek a new path in life. And make no mistake, losing a lot and maintaining for decades (after age 50) is a path that few have tread.

Sometimes friendships come along for the arduous hike in a completely new direction, but not always. We need time to grieve the loss of a friend – without diving into the pralines and cream – and honor how important the friendship was in our life.

And then we need to forge ahead — all systems go — as we continue on the path to a lasting transformation.

Thank you.

I owe you $125 for this therapy session.

♥, Wendy