When I was watching a movie recently — a comedy — I was stunned to hear the characters confess to two of my biggest fears. I actually ran the movie back to make sure I heard right. I watched the scene three or four times.

Why? Because it was proof that these fears I harbor are not weird or unusual. At least one other person in the world — the person who wrote them into the movies — must share them. Or at least know somebody who does.

That means I’m not alone.

Now while I know this, I often feel like I am alone. I think most people, at some point, feel like they’re flying solo through life.

While I don’t wish any kind of fear on anyone, I have to admit it’s weirdly comforting to know that people share mine. When I think about it, these fears can’t be all that uncommon. Now that I think about it, though, this might be the first time I’ve admitted these fears to myself, let alone out loud. OK, in pixels. But they’ve been there, firmly rooted in my brain, waiting patiently (or not) for me to acknowledge them.

So, what are they and what movie stated them?

Source: Universal Studios

Source: Universal Studios

First, the movie. It was the Tina Fey/Amy Poehler flick “Sisters.” Not the greatest movie by any means, but it was pretty funny in a brash “did they really just do that?” kind of way. It made me laugh, which is never a bad thing.

Anyway, the semi-serious scene I’m talking about takes place in the attic during an epic party (think 40-year-olds lettin’ loose and kickin’ it up like college kids) called Ellis Island Revamped.

Maura Ellis (Poehler) and James (Ike Barinholtz) are dancing around their obvious-to-anybody-who-is-watching romantic interest in each other, flirting while indulging in a bit of … ahem … “herbal” courage, when they decide to share their biggest fears.

After a false start (choking on steak and alligators, I think) and a count of three, their truths came out.

Maura: “I’m afraid I’m boring and have too much baggage.”

*raises hand*

Yep, me, too. Totally.

James: “I’m afraid losing weight won’t fix everything.”

Wait. What? Did he really just say that? I practically had to pick my jaw up off the floor before hitting rewind.

“I’m afraid losing weight won’t fix everything.”

Wow. Yes. All kinds of yes. Every kind of yes that is humanly possible.

I watched it again.

“I’m afraid losing weight won’t fix everything.”

Now James’ 70-pound weight loss was nothing more than a quick mention in the movie, and we never saw him “before.” But his confession seemed so real, even if he did joke about his reasons for losing weight afterwards. (I’m not even going to go there. Let’s just say it’s a guy thing, and something I can’t possibly experience — at least not without some serious surgery.)

It turns out Barinholtz had to lose weight for the movie — about 25 pounds. Not insignificant, especially since he had to do it quickly. Not that that little tidbit has anything to do with anything. It’s not unusual for actors to have to change their bodies for roles.

I digress.

Self imageSo, yes, that scene resonated with me. I’m afraid that losing weight won’t fix everything, particularly now that I’m struggling to shed the weight I’ve regained and not doing very well at it.

The question now is this: What exactly did I expect losing weight to fix?

Honestly, I don’t have a damn clue. Everything? Nothing? Me? How I see myself? How others see me?

I really don’t know. And I think that might be why I’m struggling now.

After I hit my goal — down 42 pounds — nearly a year ago now, I didn’t see a whole lot of difference in myself. I was still wearing the same clothes. True, they were a little baggy, but no unwearably so. Much to my dismay.

I guess losing a significant amount of weight — I consider 42 pounds significant — wasn’t all that I’d hoped, even if I’m not sure what that was.

Losing weight didn’t fix anything, didn’t change anything. I looked the same. I sure as hell felt the same. I was pleased with myself for hitting my goal, but it was like any other achievement. Yay me. What’s next? In the greater scheme of things, does it really matter?

Confidence and doubt

It’s basically a war between confidence and doubt. And I’m afraid I’m letting doubt win.

Now that my weight is back up a bit (after being back down a bit — I’ve lost and regains the same 5-10 pounds life six times), I’m starting to think that my goal of 48 pounds down by my birthday — Hey! I just realized that will be my age plus five — might be more difficult to achieve than I originally thought. In fact, I’m closing in on a territory known as Unrealistic Expectations.

Of course, anything worth doing takes effort, right? But I’m questioning myself. A lot. Is this worth doing, worth the frustration if I don’t feel better about myself.

I’ll work on that and get back to you…

PS. While feeling like I’m boring and have too much baggage and worrying that losing weight won’t fix anything are big fears for me, they are not the biggest. That is reserved for clowns. Clowns scare the shit out of me. They are terrifying. Even happy-looking ones. Nope. Nope. Oh, hell no. Clowns are evil. Period.