Last week I went into a jewelry store, and approached the desk area.
“I need to have my wedding ring re-sized,” I said.
“Do you need to have it sized up, or down,” the woman asked.
“Down please,” I respond. I pull it off my bigger-middle finger. (I hate referring to it as my birdie finger, but you know the one.) It has been riding around on that finger for a half-year or so.
“Oh,” says sales woman. “Have you lost weight then?”
“Yes I have.” Even after six months, I still can’t help but beam when the subject is brought up.
“Really? How did you do it?”
I reveal my source, which is no secret.
I’m a huge fan. No, I don’t work for them. No, I don’t get paid for referrals for giving them commercial blog time. But it works! (I lost 50 pounds, and made it to my goal.)
“Wow! Congratulations,” says the sales woman. She pulls out the handy dandy ring-sizing templates, and we find a nice fit.
Then she asks, “Are you interested in purchasing our lifetime protection plan? That way, you can have it sized up and down as often as you need, for no extra charge.”
I stare at her. In my mind I’m trying to convince myself not to get annoyed.
Finally I say, “No thank you. I’m not going to need to have it sized up again.”
Which brings me to an observation. It must have been about seven years ago that I had the ring sized up to begin with. Looking back at that now, I wish I wouldn’t have done it.
It stuns me to remember how casual it was for me back then. Hey, my ring doesn’t fit anymore. I guess I need to have it sized up. Hey, my pants don’t fit me anymore. I guess I need to buy a bigger size. And then a year later, I’m buying a size up from that. No big deal. The pant sizes must be shrinking.
Before I knew it, I was 50 pounds overweight, and hating myself for it. How did I let myself get so out of control? It didn’t happen overnight, but it all added up.
I finally got to a place in my life where I was not comfortable with who I was. I dealt with a lot of self-esteem problems. I felt of little worth. I felt ugly, and just plain fat. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. So I found something that worked for me, and dusted off the old self-control. (Now that I made it to goal, the self-control issue is a constant thorn-in-my-side.)
When I walked back into that jewelry store a few days later, I approached the same sales woman. She pulled out my ring, and I looked at it. At first I thought it must be the wrong ring. It was so much smaller than I’d been used to.
I tried it on and it fit perfectly. It was just like new. It was the same size it had been when I got married. (Hey, just like the new me.)
Sometimes it becomes our worst nightmare when we find ourselves back at square one. Like writing a story, and realizing it’s not working out so you have to start over. Or mopping the kitchen floor, just to have the kids spill on it again.
But every now and then, finding square one again is exactly what we were after all along.
Have you ever been happy to find yourself back at the beginning?