I became "heavy" at age nine. I was a cute thin little girl until I realized that my father was an abusive alcoholic. My mother wanted to comfort me, and did so the only way she knew how... with food. She would buy me Little Debbie cakes and bake cookies. I was allowed to drink as much soda as I wanted. By the time I was twelve, I was eating portions the same size as my father and my mother was making my plate. I only related to my father through food and TV. At fourteen I was 5" and weighed around 200 pounds. I wanted to lose weight and did. I became a pro at yo-yoing my weight without using any crazy diets. At the time I didn't even realize I was losing and gaining. All I saw was fat. One day during my senior year of high school, one of my teachers commented on how much weight I had lost. I didn't even realize it. I was still wearing the same clothes. After she pointed it out I realized that my clothes were way too big for me and decided to weigh myself. At that time I was 5'2" and 142 pounds! I still thought I was fat. This smaller version of me didn't last long. My father committed suicide around this same time and next thing I knew I was 176 pounds. My second year of college I found myself crushing on a guy that practically lived at the gym. I would go there just to run into him and since I was there I would work out. I got down to 150 lbs. It was during this time that I met my husband (nope, different guy). He was too thin at 5"11 and 126 lbs. He didn't believe in working out or eating healthy since he was so skinny. If anything he wanted to gain weight and was quickly successful after being around me and my mother, but I also gained. I yo-yoed my way back up to 200 lbs after just two years of marriage. Well it is seven years and countless tries later and I am at 190 lbs inching closer and closer back to 200 lbs.
I turned 30 this year. I am more comfortable with myself now than I ever have been. I am more accepting of myself and others. I have accepted that I am not where I had planned to be in life by now. I have accepted that I have not accomplished all that I wanted to by now. I realize that those goals were made by a naive teenager with stars in her eyes. However, I still have a stumbling block. MY WEIGHT! Don't get me wrong. My expectations are reasonable. My doctor says I need to be around 125, but I would love to be a consistent 140 lbs. Emphasis on consistent. I know carrying the extra pounds and the constant fluctuation is detrimental to my body. I want to be healthy... but it is so hard. I don't want to give up sweets. I don't want to give up carbs. I don't want to give up artificial sweetener. And I especially don't want to go to bed hungry. I hate all the "rules" to being thin (like The Skinny Rules by Bob Harper from The Biggest Loser... ugh).