The Truth of My Mother and a Lifetime of “Think Like a Thin Person”

As I continue my month-long visit with my parents, I am learning more about their lives in their senior years. My mother remains as slim as she’s always been. We were talking yesterday about what a “hard time” her friends here in the community give her, especially at the pool. Despite being generally in their mid-60s and above, they continue to put themselves on diets and exercise regimens in an attempt to lose weight. Diet and exercise for weight loss have never been part of my mother’s life. Does she “think like a thin person”? She acknowledges and freely admits what is her truth—she does not now nor has she ever made any specifically conscious choices about what she eats and the level of physical activity in her life. She does whatever she wants to. She does what makes her comfortable. She does what comes naturally to her in the moment and overall. She does not deny herself what would be a preferred choice to instead do what she thinks she “should.” She will say specifically she takes no credit for her weight and her body composition. She is today at 75 as I’ve known her my entire life.

My mother does say she considers herself to be extremely fortunate. She has a natural preference for whole foods and a specific dislike for heavy, rich food or “sweets.” She has a need to feel active and busy and likes to “keep moving.” She believes her greatest advantage has been in lifelong consistency. It seems nearly impossible but her weight has barely wavered all her life with the exception of two pregnancies. And that’s it.

My mother does not “think like a thin person.” She just thinks and not very often about food. She “eats whatever she wants” but what she wants is what most of us would consider a mostly vegetarian diet that would be conducive to weight loss. She doesn’t follow an exercise regimen, she does what makes her feel good every day. By our culture’s standards, we’d call her lucky. Very lucky. Which means, conversely, that there are those of us who are not so lucky. That’s true, too. I am “not so lucky.” If I ate what I really wanted, I’d be 500lbs. Managing my weight requires highly vigilant attention to my diet and very specific denial of what I’d otherwise choose to eat. I’ve always been naturally larger. And as much as I appreciate the way I feel after exercise, I still have to work it into my routine.

Growing up, I ate what my mother prepared. I had access to the food she kept in the house. I had her as my example. But I have my father’s genes. My mother exists at one end of the Bell Curve. Despite all her environmental and behavioral influence, I am at the other end.

I wrote this post on another blog when I spent the month of May with my parents. This is a re-post of material that has appeared elsewhere.