Me at 220ish on October 19th, 2008 ^
Me at 150ish Freshman year of high school ^I am fat. There. I said it. I'm not pleasantly plump, there is not "more of me to love," I am fat. Obese, in fact. I carry an uncomfortable 220ish pounds on a 5'5" frame. I'm not saying this to garner sympathy and I'm not saying it out of self-pity. I'm saying it because it is a fact. I am unhealthy. I am unfit. And I have nobody but myself to blame. Yes, genetics plays a factor--but genetics didn't force me to eat that second doughnut or that huge bowl of ice cream.
Why am I saying all this, then, if not to have a "woe-is-me" fest? Because I am finally taking responsibilty for my actions. I have not exercised, and I have eaten vast ammounts of unnecessary food, and it has made me fat. Now that I think about it, I am actually ashamed of myself... halfway across the world children are starving to death, and over here I'm eating myself to death. After all, obesity brings with it a whole slew of problems... high cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart failure... and that is just to name a few things.
I have never loved my body, and that is one of the reasons I have become the fat chick that I am. Though I was born premature, I was always the biggest kid in my elementary school classes. I grew and developed faster than all the other girls. I remember a girl telling me that I had hairy legs and needed to start shaving... in fourth grade. I felt out of place at summer camp where all the girls were flat as a board, and I had developed little tater tots on my chest. I don't remember this happenening, but my mom told me that when she picked me up from my week at church camp one summer (probably the summer before fourth grade) I was just bawling because I had started to develop breasts and none of the other girls had. I wasn't necessarily fat back then, but I thought of myself as fat going into fifth grade because of how different my body shape was from all the other girls. It did not help that my period started the summer before fifth grade, or that I was in a completely new school in a completely new state, as we had moved because my dad was transferred. Or that the "popular" (ie. mean girls) picked on me for no reason. Enter sixth grade: I was almost my current height (probably about 5'4") and weighed in a 150 pounds. Was I overweight, sure. Was I ugly/obese/gross? No. Did I think I was? Yes. The other girls were still short skinny sticks, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. As middle school went on I stopped growing (height-wise, at least) and the other girls began growing. By my freshman year of high school the only way I was able to maintain being around 150 pounds was by having a borderline eating disorder. Freshman year was also the last year I was semi-physically active. Previously I had played basketball at the Y for a time, and then played in an all girls softball league. I love softball, but when I got old enough to play fast-pitch, things went downhill... for one because I had trouble hitting a ball thrown that fast, and for two, because my coaches were a couple of biased jerks who played only their daughters and their friends, while others of us sat on the sidelines. If we had been a winning team I can see how that would work, but we were not. I believe we lost every game, and still the coaches would not put me or some other girls out until after it was clear we were losing. That is the only time my mom ever let me quit a sport... she felt it was truly unfair. Me too. I mean, way to devalue my abilities. After that I got progressively fatter. Luckily I'd met my boyfriend (now husband) in my freshman year before I became grossly obese, and he stuck with me because he loves me no matter my size (thanks Jon, I love you!). By senior year I weighed in the 200s. I was miserble.
Fast forward to college. Weight Watchers. Lost weight. Gained it back. Lost it again. Blah blah blah. With my upcoming wedding as incentive I got down to the 180s... and now, almost a year after my wedding, I am in the 220ish range again.
Screw dieting. Screw the points system. I refuse to let food be the focus of my life, and that is what dieting does--it makes food the focus of every day, because everything has to be planned around meals. No more. I will eat what I want--in moderation. I will exercise (I just got a shiny new membership to a local health club-yay!) and I will try to be healthy. I don't care about reaching any goal weight anymore. I just want to be healthy and happy. The fat chick has left the building.
Why am I saying all this, then, if not to have a "woe-is-me" fest? Because I am finally taking responsibilty for my actions. I have not exercised, and I have eaten vast ammounts of unnecessary food, and it has made me fat. Now that I think about it, I am actually ashamed of myself... halfway across the world children are starving to death, and over here I'm eating myself to death. After all, obesity brings with it a whole slew of problems... high cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart failure... and that is just to name a few things.
I have never loved my body, and that is one of the reasons I have become the fat chick that I am. Though I was born premature, I was always the biggest kid in my elementary school classes. I grew and developed faster than all the other girls. I remember a girl telling me that I had hairy legs and needed to start shaving... in fourth grade. I felt out of place at summer camp where all the girls were flat as a board, and I had developed little tater tots on my chest. I don't remember this happenening, but my mom told me that when she picked me up from my week at church camp one summer (probably the summer before fourth grade) I was just bawling because I had started to develop breasts and none of the other girls had. I wasn't necessarily fat back then, but I thought of myself as fat going into fifth grade because of how different my body shape was from all the other girls. It did not help that my period started the summer before fifth grade, or that I was in a completely new school in a completely new state, as we had moved because my dad was transferred. Or that the "popular" (ie. mean girls) picked on me for no reason. Enter sixth grade: I was almost my current height (probably about 5'4") and weighed in a 150 pounds. Was I overweight, sure. Was I ugly/obese/gross? No. Did I think I was? Yes. The other girls were still short skinny sticks, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. As middle school went on I stopped growing (height-wise, at least) and the other girls began growing. By my freshman year of high school the only way I was able to maintain being around 150 pounds was by having a borderline eating disorder. Freshman year was also the last year I was semi-physically active. Previously I had played basketball at the Y for a time, and then played in an all girls softball league. I love softball, but when I got old enough to play fast-pitch, things went downhill... for one because I had trouble hitting a ball thrown that fast, and for two, because my coaches were a couple of biased jerks who played only their daughters and their friends, while others of us sat on the sidelines. If we had been a winning team I can see how that would work, but we were not. I believe we lost every game, and still the coaches would not put me or some other girls out until after it was clear we were losing. That is the only time my mom ever let me quit a sport... she felt it was truly unfair. Me too. I mean, way to devalue my abilities. After that I got progressively fatter. Luckily I'd met my boyfriend (now husband) in my freshman year before I became grossly obese, and he stuck with me because he loves me no matter my size (thanks Jon, I love you!). By senior year I weighed in the 200s. I was miserble.
Fast forward to college. Weight Watchers. Lost weight. Gained it back. Lost it again. Blah blah blah. With my upcoming wedding as incentive I got down to the 180s... and now, almost a year after my wedding, I am in the 220ish range again.
Screw dieting. Screw the points system. I refuse to let food be the focus of my life, and that is what dieting does--it makes food the focus of every day, because everything has to be planned around meals. No more. I will eat what I want--in moderation. I will exercise (I just got a shiny new membership to a local health club-yay!) and I will try to be healthy. I don't care about reaching any goal weight anymore. I just want to be healthy and happy. The fat chick has left the building.
3 comments:
Amen! Sing it, sister!
(Saw your post on "The Weighting Game" and thought I'd come over and check it out.)
And you DO look look Drew Barrymore!
You're gorgeous! And your goal is commendable :).
The scary thing is, I was about the same weight in HS you were, and now (well, ok, was before pregnancy! LOL). After Olliver comes we should get a gym routine together :)
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