It Started With A Dress: The Big Reveal *Drumroll Please*

In a new weekly feature, Her.ie newbie Liz is going to share her weight loss journey. She’ll be filling you in on fighting temptation, her willpower struggles with the cocktail menu and taking painfully slow steps towards regular exercise. All in the name of a dress.  _____________________________________ Hanging on the wall at the end of my bed is the constant reminder I plan on shedding nearly two stone this year. I also plan on marking the trials and tribulations of ‘trying to be good’ – the favourite saying we all tout, and quickly replace when a cake is put in front of us.      Week 21: D-Day (D obviously standing for DRESS)  I don’t think I fully knew what I was getting myself in for starting this weekly update. I still remember the absolute fear of typing my starting weight in March, and cringing in the realisation that those digits were now public knowledge. Or realising that to fit into The Dress I would have to brace myself and head into a gym for more than change for the bus. I refused to stand in another changing room and feel the prick of tears behind my eyes because a zip wouldn’t budge. I’ve been overwhelmed by support, and not just from people I know, but from readers too. It means a lot to know that there’s a group of people out there who won’t judge you if you happen to break into the hidden tub of ice-cream at the back of the freezer. Which is good, because that hidden tub became a trusted friend this week. As my time of the month decided to come crashing down on my plans to stay super slim on Monday morning, my hormones took on a new hike of angst and self-comfort. No chocolate, ice-cream or glass of wine would fill this spot. I knew what was coming. The food apocalypse. No sugar or e-number was safe. Munching my way through minstrels, popcorn, hot chocolates and shared wine (and by shared I mean I poured it evenly with myself amongst both Monday and Tuesday night), I was dreading a trip to the scales. Whoever is up there looking down has one serious sense of humour. Who gives me my period when I need to look fabulous and svelte in a cut-out dress? Don’t they get that I’m weak. Carbs are as much as my make-up as blood and oxygen. So the onslaught continued, right up until the night before the weigh-in where I tried convincing myself if I ate one salad it was the same thing as having a good week (word of advice, it’s not.) A moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips (well until your next week in Weight Watchers anyway). I gulped on my trip up to the weigh pad and sucking in until I was about to pass out, I stood on the scales. I was up 2lbs. The same week I was planning to fit into my dress. Feeling incredibly disheartened, I plonked myself next to Mary. She too had a rough week and we made a plan to go for a coffee after class. Sitting across from her I told her I was disappointed and that I hadn’t reach my goal target. Her reply? There’s always next week. And hadn’t I come this far in 4 months, imagine if I kept it up. She told me to go home and write down the first five things I learned so far from this whole Dress mission. So wine in hand, I decided to make a list of five things I was proud of:

1. I was honest with myself the whole way through. And with readers too. Along with the good times, if I had a bad week, I admitted it. If I was struggling, I didn’t paint on a happy face.
2. I stopped blaming weight gain on genetics/big bones/a rough week. I took a bite of reality about why food was my crutch and instead just started talking to people rather than chowing down.
3. I now fit in at the weights section in the gym. And by fit in, I clearly still keep my headphones in and pretend to not notice the looks of endangered animals glaring at me for entering their space. I haven’t even put a dumbbell through a mirror yet. That deserves a whole point on its own.
4. I don’t shy away from photographs, buying clothes or heading on a night out. The idea of going dancing doesn’t fill me with a dread of trying to wrestle into a dress or force me to stand in the back of group shots so nobody can see my arms/legs/tummy.

  And probably the absolute highlight?  

1. I did it. Despite those 2lbs that clung to my hips, I fit into the dress. The Dress. I’m incredibly proud that I got to write that.

So how did it look? Well, in my best Blue Peter voice, here’s a little something I prepared earlier:   Excuse the super pasty skin, but I figured tan can look slimming so I went with the pale and interesting look. It also means there are no optical illusions. Excuse me while I go twirl. And because I’m stubborn, and have a wallet sized space in my purse, I’m not giving up until I hit my target goal. Which I’ve decided to keep documenting, because if I’m honest, this is my second class weigh-in each week. And the motivation I need to keep on going. So my new target is to hit the original goal of 148lbs, and with the advice of my leader, apparently the last 7lbs can be the most difficult to shift. Can you tell I’m REALLY looking forward to it? I have my eyes on the gold… the Weight Watchers Gold Card that is... It Started With A Dress: And ended with a smile. For now anyway. We’ll wait and see what the scales say next week. This week’s stats go a little something like this - Height: 5ft 8 Starting Weight: 174 lbs Current Weight: 155.5 lbs Weight Loss To Date: 18.5 lb Goal: 148 lbs Feeling: Ecstatic. The Dress in Question... NOW FITS!!