I've never been what you would call "skinny." I was a beautiful fat baby, complete with fat rolls on my arms and legs. As a child, I was healthy looking. Not skin and bones, but no fat rolls either. Average, maybe? At the time, my teenage years felt rough. I felt fat, ugly, and awkward. Of course when I look back today at pictures of me during that time, I am envious of my thin, curvy shape and would give anything to look that way again. It's hard enough being a teenage girl, but when you have a younger brother who delights in your pain and misery, it's twice as hard.
At 16 years old, I was probably a size 14. Not horrible, but I could have stood to have lost a few pounds. My teenage self, however, thought that this was horrible. One weekend, I got a stomach bug and lost my appetite. After a few days of not eating, I thought that I could handle going without food. This began my Mountain Dew addiction--I drank Mountain Dew and Surge (now I'm showing my age) so that I had enough energy to make it through a day of high school, homework, and my part time fast-food job. I would lie to my mom and tell her that I would get dinner work on my break, and I would tell my coworkers that I had ate supper at home before I came in. No one thought to question me. I ended up losing about 30 pounds in a month and ended up being a size 10. I felt glorious. I reveled in the attention I was getting. Only after my boyfriend at the time drew a line in the sand did I start eating again. Somehow I managed to maintain the weight loss through my college years.
In college, I slowly started gaining weight. I attribute my weight gain to starting birth control pills rather than the stereotypical "freshman 15." I didn't put the weight on overnight--instead it was more of a slow creep. By the time I started my first year of law school, I was 205 lbs. 205 scared me. Men are supposed to weigh over 200 pounds, not women. I signed up for Weight Watchers and began attending meetings. I actually did really well with the program and lost about 20 pounds in 2 months. I was so freaking proud of myself. Of course, my pride dwindled and my weekly losses became miniscule. I stopped going to meetings and began eating whatever I wanted. Law school sucked. It was stressful, it was hard, and I hated every minute. I began to use food as a treat. "Yay, I made it through finals, I deserve to go to Chipotle!" "Today sucked. I want to go to Sonic and get a milkshake to make myself feel better." The weight I lost came back and invited some of its friends.
The year after law school, I was asked to be maid of honor in a friend's wedding. This friend was a girl that I went to high school with and looked up to. She was in the popular crowd and I was not. Actually, we barely spoke to each other back then. While I was in law school, she found me on Myspace and we realized that we had tons in common and became good friends. I was so thrilled and honored to be asked to be in her wedding; especially as maid of honor. I figured that her wedding would be like a mini class reunion of sorts and I was determined not to be the fat bridesmaid. The wedding was scheduled for early August. On January 1st, I was a size 18. I told my friend to order my dress in a 14 so that I would be forced to lose weight. Equipped with a membership to the local gym and a folder of Weight Watchers material from a few year back, I began the process of fitting into that dress. By God, I did. I lost 50 freaking pounds. I felt pretty. I felt attractive. I felt sexy. People I hadn't seen in awhile told me how great I looked. Others would ask me what my secret was. I felt empowered and loved the attention. I loved clothes shopping for the first time in years.
I started working in my chosen career--law and was constantly on the go. Lunch with coworkers, long dockets, jail visits, and commuting brought back bad habits and those 50 pounds seemed to quickly jump back on me. I gained back all that hard-lost weight and then added another, gulp, 50 pounds to it. I now weigh 100 pounds more than I did back in 2007. I feel gross. I feel undesirable. I can't see my toes. I have stretch marks on my upper arms and I feel like I no longer have a chin. I go through spurts where I will commit to losing weight and I will go to the gym for a few weeks and carry around a water bottle. My weight keeps yo-yoing. I know that I can lose the weight if I really tried, but I can't seem to make myself try. I am stuck in a cycle where I eat when I'm happy, sad, or bored. I feel gross and ugly, so I eat to make myself feel better, but then I feel worse. Tonight my mom called and out of the blue asked me if she could give me money each week to go to Jenny Craig. I was stunned into silence. I know I need to lose weight but it's embarrassing to be at the point where my mom is wanting to give me $100 a week of her own money to fund my weight loss. I am thankful that she is concerned and that she wants to help me but I feel like a failure. Why is it so easy to give up and not care about eating right and exercising than to take care of the only body that I'll ever have?
No comments:
Post a Comment