My attitude, my choice
It’s always about me. Wait, allow me please to elaborate.
I’m a work in progress. Aren’t we all? The more I grow as a person, I realize that regardless of the situation, my attitude is my choice. I’m responsible for the way I respond to what others say or do. My behavior is always my behavior. It makes no difference how the other person in any situation behaves or acts. It’s always about my actions, my response.The onus of the outcome of the situation always is on me.
A recent example, I’d been working with a woman who was very unpleasant to me. I only had to work with her a couple times or so a month, but she was making those times challenging. There were instances when I had to bite my tongue because of her rude remarks and flip attitude. Times when she was testing my limits to the point I contemplated calling the entire deal off. I continued, however, to bite my tongue, smile, and do good work because I loved the work I was doing and the work was important to me and others.
One day, there was an opportunity for me to offer her a little treat. She excitedly accepted the treat and her and I had a nice exchange that day. Low and behold, a few weeks later she was promoted and was now going to be my direct contact. Over time her and I have become very friendly, she is very helpful to me and will go to bat for me to get me what I need.
For a long time, I let others push my buttons thus they were dictating the outcome of the situation. So, I say it again, I can’t control others and the way they think, feel, or how they behave. I can only control how I handle the situation. Allowing others to control my attitude means they have power over me which limits my opportunities.
I’ve said this many times before this journey is not only about losing the physical weight, but is about finding myself — it’s not only what I’ve lost, but what I’ve gained. I’ve come to learn that my attitude is my choice — always.
Chrisetta Mosley
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!