Refuse the Refuse!

Just say no to the trash!

So, it has taken me a few days to write this blog. Mostly because I was angry, and by angry I mean hurt, rejected and swindled by a company that I trusted with a very sensitive part of my psyche.

Last week, Sondra and I finally took a deep breath and walked back into our local Weight Watchers store. I will tell you right now, that those people have made some big money off of us. We have been happy with the program and moderately happy with the support. I say moderately because the support has been a little sketchy. The people who work at this store are a little judgemental and uppity. Really, in my humble opinion, those are two characteristics that I feel should NEVER be allowed to work in an establishment who serves people with self esteem issues. Nevertheless, the place is full of them. 

ANYWAY….let me get back to the story. In the past, the older lady that used to weigh us would practically chastise us for not having the W.W. fee taken prepaid online. We chose to pay at the desk, just in case we needed to miss a week or if we decided that we didn’t want to go back and then have a hassle cancelling the subscription. 

So this time, we did the online thing just to be in compliance. When we got to the store, there was a new little woman. She looked at us like she might be a little afraid of us. Then she asked, ” What do you girls need?” 

Really? I mean she must have seen the size of my behind, right? I think it is fairly obvious what I needed. I didn’t say that…I just told her our story. She proceeded to tell us in a disgusted tone, that we needed to re-join there at the store and we didn’t have the privilege of visiting the store from paying online. I told her I was confused, because we were told to pay online last year. She then pointed us to read a sign and took care of the two other women in the store and ignored us. Sondra asked me what I wanted to do. I said, “I want to leave. I am through with Weight Watchers”.

Heavy people have heavy luggage.

When they ask you for help and you are rude or mean or condescending, you add more luggage to the pile they are already carrying. You pick a scab on very deep wound. You threaten to send that person back to a place of comfort that is probably not the healthiest place for them to go. 

You didn’t do your job.

You hurt. You didn’t help.

The tough girl inside me that protects the extra sensitive girl inside me is giving the big giant finger to Weight Watchers and two to that little woman. 

The rational girl inside me is screaming that Weight Watchers is the only program that has ever worked for me. She also knows that we already know the program. She is throwing away the bullshit that the little over- pretentious scale warden dealt out.

While I was in that part of my head, I started throwing out some other garbage as well. For instance the word “FAT”. I always felt that by saying that word in association with myself I was owning that I was fat. The first part to fixing anything is to acknowledge it. Right? That was what I believed.  BUT….I am wrong in that thinking. I am not fat

. I HAVE FAT…and I have plenty of it.

I am Susan. I am fabulous. I am moody. I am creative. I am intuitive. I am female. I am funny. I am smart. I am loving.



Fat does NOT define who I am.

Fat does not define who I am.

It’s time to rewind those tapes and do a little editing.

When I was thirteen my mother took me to weekly diet meetings in the basement of our church. The plan was called the “Conway Diet Plan”. I was almost a teenager sitting on a cold metal chair in the middle of about 40 middle aged women who were trying to shed some weight. I felt like a failure. I felt fat. I felt uncool. I hid it from my friends. I weighed 127 at the first meeting. I weighed 117 when the summer was over. Two pounds away from my goal. Failure again.  I remember when my mother expressed her concern over my bucking the diet system, the leader told her that when I was ready to lose it, I would. It was up to me. Failure. 

Did mom know that she was doing this? No. I am sure it was not her intention to screw me up. She was doing what she thought was the best thing. I can’t fault her for that. BUT…I can rewind that tape and give the whole situation the big fat finger and send it down the road like a driver that has just cut me off. Here’s to you and disconnect!  I refuse that trash.

Other people’s paradigm’s pushed on to me are NOT okay.  That is trash!

Pushing MY paradigm on other’s is NOT okay! That is trash!

Developing my own belief system based on love for me and everyone else…but especially me…is what is okay. It’s what is great. It is what will help me the most and see to my best life. I have looked at myself in the mirror and told my eyes that I loved me for over a month now. It’s working. It’s better. I think the Universe put that snotty little woman in the Weight Watchers for a reason. The reason was to let me know that I am the one with the power here. No crutches. No more putting myself on display for someone to make a buck. No more accepting judgement from people who have no right to judge me. I can do this losing weight thing, as frightening as it may be, I can do it. I need to be fearless in it. 

I am not fat. I have fat. I am not defined by what I have. I am defined by the ways in which I am. 

I am fearless in the loving of me.( I may have to say that to my eyes a few times.)

whew..I think I feel better. I want you to feel better too. I urge you to dig around a little in the storage closet of your mind and dig out some of those old tapes. Or hell…some of the more recent ones. Fix the stuff you want to fix, for you own good. 

Whew, now let’s grab our hula hoop’s and have a real good time!! I’m getting my new one this week and I am STOKED! I will so let you know how it goes!

Smooch Out! loveloveloveloveloveloveu


Published by Susan Rushing

I am a professional psychic/medium in Atlanta Georgia. I am a firm believer in that this life and living is all about love.

One thought on “Refuse the Refuse!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: