WTH!?!? I was NOT a fat child! Really! My parents didn’t allow us to eat junk food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My mother prepared balanced meals and there was hardly ever any soda, salty snacks or candy in our house. When we visited Ronald McDonald and the Hamburglar it was a like a holiday to us! I didn’t taste Burger King for years! And, as for other fast foods that we may have consumed, the only other options for us was KFC or Churches Chicken. Do you remember Churches Chicken? Why were the pieces of chicken so darn large? That’s another blog…. Any way, as far as I can remember, I was not a product of the fast food demon that many children in America wrestle with today.
So what happened? How did I end up as an adult woman at the age of 33 weighing 298 pounds?!?! How did I transition from a healthy, active, bike riding, tree-climbing, roller-skate loving young girl into that woman?
It didn’t begin with me opening my mouth I can assure you. It started with me keeping my mouth closed. I was definitely one of those little girls who always compared herself to everyone around her. I never measured up to the standards of beauty that I saw in the magazines. Does this story sound familiar? Are you tired of hearing about it? Well, if you are, you will just have to suck it up because this is a thread that is woven through out many little girls’ lives. The thread of not feeling good enough, pretty enough or thin enough. These feelings didn’t come from my family. They never made me feel less than. But, somewhere inside me a seed of doubt, disgust and despair had been planted and I watered and nurtured it for years.
Eventually, food became the main ingredient along with all of the taunts, fat jokes and fat comments that made up a toxic soup that I called my life.
But, get this… on the outside all appeared to be just fine. That was my first collection of social masks that I would begin to wear in public. Many more would follow. As the tug-of-war with my weight began, I felt more and more defeated after each 1 pound weight gain. 1 pound here, 1 pound there… and before you know it I had gain 5 pounds. Big Fat Failure!!! I had branded myself as the “Big Fat Failure”. Ugh!! What a cross to carry.
Now, to put this into perspective, I was an 80’s teenager. Oh, how I loved the 80’s! You could do anything, dress like you wanted and it was all so Neuvo and Cool! Prince, Madonna, WHAM, The Cosbys…. I loved that era! Jackets had the large shoulder pads and were cut larger, pants where looser, I wore lots of necklaces that camouflaged my big breasts. Oprah was secretly fighting her own fat war and I began to love my fat 🙂 I began to tell myself that I,too, could be Fat and Happy! Heck, it was the 80’s and you could do anything and be anything you wanted, right? After all, I wasn’t as large as her, or even her — remember I always carried a measuring stick with me. If I couldn’t win the fat war, I should just love myself and be happy. That was really a great idea and I should have cultivated it, but somewhere along the way, I refused to be fat and happy. I refused to love myself no matter what size I was. Can anyone relate?
So what happened next?…..