The Elephant Complex
When captive circus elephants are young, their trainers shackle one of their legs to a heavy iron stake pounded deep into the ground to ensure that no matter how hard or how defiantly the young elephant struggles, he will not be able to escape. Years later, when the elephant has grown into his full strength and power, the trainer still holds him captive, but not with chain and an iron stake. The trainer can use simple rope and a wooden stake half-heartedly pushed into soft soil, and still the elephant will not escape. Why? The elephant is trapped by his mind, where his past experience has ingrained in him the futility of freedom. Even when freedom lies handily in his grasp, the elephant cannot fathom it.
The elephant and I might as well be siblings, because our experiences in life are so similar. You see, being fat wasn’t just a description of my physical appearance, but a life long mindset, one I first recall summoning at Kerry Moore’s third grade Luau birthday party, where I was ashamed to run around in my bathing suit and grass skirt (as all the other skinnier girls did) for fear of someone mocking my rounded belly. For a girl who has been “chubby,” “husky,” “stocky,” “bulky,” “tubby,” “full-figured,” “large-boned,” “flabby,” and “fat” variously since third grade, the state of being overweight defined me physically and mentally.
In the last ten months, I’ve lost more than 130 pounds (an entire supermodel!), and one of the most striking things I’ve noticed is how HARD it is to overcome the “elephant complex.”(And how appropriate that this can be named after the plight of the elephant, the animal synonymous with enormity). Can you relate? With a show of hands, how many people still get butterflies the first time they sit down in a fragile looking or rickety chair, silently praying to every god and goddess they believe in that the chair will hold their weight? How many people still can’t tuck in a shirt because they feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable exposing the (dwindling) expanse of tummy resting below the waistline of their pants? How many people still bow out of strenuous activities or athletic events, knowing that they would never be capable of competing with the “normal” people participating? And how many people still look in the mirror and “see” the same huge, misshapen body that they shed months (or years) ago?
At the beginning of my journey, my nutritionist told me that in order for this surgery to be successful, I was going to have to keep an open mind about ALL foods, as some foods I had loved before (can I get a what, what for chocolate?) will not agree with me post surgery, and some foods I hated (chicken!) would turn out to be a new favorite, if I opened myself up to the new possibilities. I know that advice was so critical to the healthy dietary choices that helped me lose the weight, and I think the same is true for our mindsets.
I have to encourage myself everyday to challenge my “elephant” mindset. Can I really exercise on the treadmill at the gym beyond walking speeds? Can I really accept a compliment about how pretty I look without immediately dismissing the complimentor as a delusional brown noser Can I really walk out the door wearing a shirt that fits instead of one that bags around me covering my imperfections? ? (Yes, Yes, and Yes, although some days I ruin the effect by spending the whole day fidgeting with my shirt trying to make it seem less “revealing” of my body’s actual shape.)
One of the hardest things about shedding the elephant mindset is that the list of things that you “can’t” do keeps diminishing day by day. Two months ago, I could only keep up a swift walking pace on the treadmill; two weeks ago, I could run at a 4.4 pace for 15 minutes at a time; two days ago, I was able to run for a half hour straight at 4.8. I have to be careful when buying “tight” clothes—if I don’t keep trying them on (which was a futile and hopelessly depressing gesture just a year ago), the next thing I know, the outfit has gone from being too tight to loosy-goosy without me ever having clipped the tags off the darn thing.
Ripping ourselves free of the elephant mindset is a daily, hourly, minutely struggle. Every time you think “I can’t,” shying away from some activity you’ve always perceived as beyond you, you must consciously activate a stronger, louder voice that says “I CAN!” And be sure to follow it up with, “And if I can’t now, I have to keep trying, because I know I’ll be able to do it soon!”
For me, the biggest challenge is continually push myself out of my comfort zone, especially with exercise and activity. “I can’t do real push-ups because my arms aren’t strong enough to hold my weight,” I think, because for the past fourteen years of my life, it was true. Guess what? I CAN do real push-ups now, because I AM strong and sleek enough to make it happen. To help keep this can-do attitude at the front of my mind, I’ve written myself a note on my bathroom mirror that says, “I AM SMART. I AM STRONG. I AM SEXY. I CAN DO IT!” I use it as a daily reminder to break free of my mental shackles—because I am no elephant, and I refuse to act like one any longer.
I challenge everyone to be watchful of their own elephant mindset and to challenge it. Loudly. Daily. And unceasingly. Why?
Because you CAN.
The elephant and I might as well be siblings, because our experiences in life are so similar. You see, being fat wasn’t just a description of my physical appearance, but a life long mindset, one I first recall summoning at Kerry Moore’s third grade Luau birthday party, where I was ashamed to run around in my bathing suit and grass skirt (as all the other skinnier girls did) for fear of someone mocking my rounded belly. For a girl who has been “chubby,” “husky,” “stocky,” “bulky,” “tubby,” “full-figured,” “large-boned,” “flabby,” and “fat” variously since third grade, the state of being overweight defined me physically and mentally.
In the last ten months, I’ve lost more than 130 pounds (an entire supermodel!), and one of the most striking things I’ve noticed is how HARD it is to overcome the “elephant complex.”(And how appropriate that this can be named after the plight of the elephant, the animal synonymous with enormity). Can you relate? With a show of hands, how many people still get butterflies the first time they sit down in a fragile looking or rickety chair, silently praying to every god and goddess they believe in that the chair will hold their weight? How many people still can’t tuck in a shirt because they feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable exposing the (dwindling) expanse of tummy resting below the waistline of their pants? How many people still bow out of strenuous activities or athletic events, knowing that they would never be capable of competing with the “normal” people participating? And how many people still look in the mirror and “see” the same huge, misshapen body that they shed months (or years) ago?
At the beginning of my journey, my nutritionist told me that in order for this surgery to be successful, I was going to have to keep an open mind about ALL foods, as some foods I had loved before (can I get a what, what for chocolate?) will not agree with me post surgery, and some foods I hated (chicken!) would turn out to be a new favorite, if I opened myself up to the new possibilities. I know that advice was so critical to the healthy dietary choices that helped me lose the weight, and I think the same is true for our mindsets.
I have to encourage myself everyday to challenge my “elephant” mindset. Can I really exercise on the treadmill at the gym beyond walking speeds? Can I really accept a compliment about how pretty I look without immediately dismissing the complimentor as a delusional brown noser Can I really walk out the door wearing a shirt that fits instead of one that bags around me covering my imperfections? ? (Yes, Yes, and Yes, although some days I ruin the effect by spending the whole day fidgeting with my shirt trying to make it seem less “revealing” of my body’s actual shape.)
One of the hardest things about shedding the elephant mindset is that the list of things that you “can’t” do keeps diminishing day by day. Two months ago, I could only keep up a swift walking pace on the treadmill; two weeks ago, I could run at a 4.4 pace for 15 minutes at a time; two days ago, I was able to run for a half hour straight at 4.8. I have to be careful when buying “tight” clothes—if I don’t keep trying them on (which was a futile and hopelessly depressing gesture just a year ago), the next thing I know, the outfit has gone from being too tight to loosy-goosy without me ever having clipped the tags off the darn thing.
Ripping ourselves free of the elephant mindset is a daily, hourly, minutely struggle. Every time you think “I can’t,” shying away from some activity you’ve always perceived as beyond you, you must consciously activate a stronger, louder voice that says “I CAN!” And be sure to follow it up with, “And if I can’t now, I have to keep trying, because I know I’ll be able to do it soon!”
For me, the biggest challenge is continually push myself out of my comfort zone, especially with exercise and activity. “I can’t do real push-ups because my arms aren’t strong enough to hold my weight,” I think, because for the past fourteen years of my life, it was true. Guess what? I CAN do real push-ups now, because I AM strong and sleek enough to make it happen. To help keep this can-do attitude at the front of my mind, I’ve written myself a note on my bathroom mirror that says, “I AM SMART. I AM STRONG. I AM SEXY. I CAN DO IT!” I use it as a daily reminder to break free of my mental shackles—because I am no elephant, and I refuse to act like one any longer.
I challenge everyone to be watchful of their own elephant mindset and to challenge it. Loudly. Daily. And unceasingly. Why?
Because you CAN.
posted by Jaime at
11:24 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home