This is my first post in my journey to be honest with myself and the world. I got fat! Yeah I said it. I am ready to admit it and I am ready to change it. I thought it might be interesting and perhaps even a little amusing, so I am going to share it. I wasn't ashamed when I was thin so I'm not going to be now. I'm still me, just a lot more of me. So here goes...
A little background: It seems like just yesterday I was 17 and in the best shape of my life. I was the thin one. I know it sounds big headed, but being young and the only women in my house that didn't struggle with weight will make you a little cocky. I wasn't even skinny, 115lbs or so but muscular and fit. My mother was not heavy but she was not skinny either. She never was and always told me she never would be. My Memere' (grandma) was extremely heavy (300+) and suffered from diabetes and high blood pressure. I grew up hearing my father talk about her like a cautionary tale. So to be honest gaining weight was terrifying to me. So I tried to stay active and was lucky to maintain a decent weight for a few years.
Kids and relationships, both beginnings and an ends: After the birth of my first son by cesarean, dropping the weight wasn't that difficult. I nursed and was still pretty active so I didn't have to try to hard. Then I went through some emotional changes and made a few big life choices. Broke up with my "baby daddy" and made some new friends. One of those friends turned into a husband. He and I began our journey with some not so healthy food choices. We developed a deep love for "jack & the box" and so we ate it often, very often. Six months after our wedding he began losing weight rapidly while I was steadily packing it on. After many a doctor visits we were told that he had a large tumor in his abdomen. It was cancer. Three days after his diagnosis we got more big news, I was pregnant. So emotions were high to say the least, and life was giving us the best and worst it had to give. This pregnancy and this cancer also gave me an excuse, an excuse to shove everything under the sun into my mouth. I ate my fear, my anxiety, my sadness. I ate till I was sick, till I was bigger than I had ever been. 210lbs was very heavy on my 5'3" pregnant frame. It made my pregnancy very hard. So after the birth of my second son the weight remained, regardless of nursing. Now having 2 cesareans under my belt per say. I had a pouch on my belly that I could have held my purse in. But I didn't care. My husband was losing his battle with cancer, he was dying. Between hospital vending machines and fast food everyday, I was numbing myself sufficiently. Depression had swallowed me whole, and in return I swallowed everything. He passed away the following spring, just a few months after his boys 1st birthday. His death shook me to my core. It changed me as a person, it made me want to change more. To be better. As if my mind had simply had enough and I began to bring myself back to life. I began reading a ridiculous amount of self help books. I was going to fix me. I began a walking regiment and cut fast food and soda out of my life. I dropped 25 pounds and was feeling optimistic about life again. I fell back in love with my first "baby daddy" and moved to a new town. We were happy and healthy together, the kids were happy, and we had an active family. I was happy. It's been almost ten years now and we are still happy and engaged.
Present day, old habits: My life is good. I have two growing boys, both at very healthy weights. My fiance is healthier than I am but not at his goal weight either. I don't worry about him though. He has the willpower of a saint and drops weight just by thinking about it. Not me though, I tend to be a trigger prone person and I still struggle with depression (mostly seasonal). This last winter my best friend moved across the state. Trigger pulled! She was my workout buddy. We ran not one, but two half marathons together, and we went to workout classes 3 mornings a week. So when she told me of the move I jumped off the healthy train with reckless abandon. I ate my feelings once more. I stuffed myself with christmas chocolate and drank delicious beer for 4 months straight. Packing on 30 or so pounds and grew out of all my clothes. In the light of March I opened my eyes to a surprised, miserable, fat girl. I'm 211 pounds now, and on a direct path to diabetes and high blood pressure. I have to change it, I am GOING to change it!
I took my "before" picture yesterday. I'm not ready to share it yet, but I'll get there. I have a plan and I'll share more soon. I'm hoping for support and motivation on my journey. I've never been one to share my weight and this took all of my courage. Thank you for reading. Much love. ♥ Lisa
