When I considered taking on this challenge, I had to ask myself why anyone would want to read MY story. I’m not famous. I don’t have a miracle cure. I’m just an average mom trying to make everything in my life work. And then it hit me: that’s exactly why I should write this. If I am having these struggles, perhaps other women are too. And maybe, just maybe, if I can overcome mine, it will inspire you to overcome your own food demons. So here it is, my story.
I’m a twin, so I was only 4 pounds 13 ounces at birth. I weighed the “normal” amount for kids my age until I got into fourth grade. My parents divorced that year, and well, let’s just say you can guess what happened next. Emotional eating. I was chubby from then on. I weighed 152 pounds at my high school graduation. Did I mention I’m 5ft.1 on a good day? And that the other girls in my graduating class weighed 100 pounds soaking wet?
When I went to college, things got worse. I was away from home for the first time, worried about events happening at home, and became a bit reclusive for a while. To comfort myself, I ate…and ate. Finally, after my sophomore year of college, I had a wake-up-call. Trust me, being the only 20 year old who doesn’t wear jeans will do that for you. I saw a doctor, took the half of Phen Fen that doesn’t cause heart attacks, and lost a lot of weight really quickly. The problem was, I was nearly starving myself. I’d eat eggs for breakfast and dinner (or egg whites) and a piece of chicken with ½ can of green beans for lunch. If I ate more, I gained weight.
Eventually I went off the diet. Somehow, with exercise, I managed to keep the weight off for three years…three glorious years, where I wore tank tops (did I mention I had a breast reduction at the age of 20? I went from a 42F to a 38B—imagine the freedom) for the first time in my life. I even wore a bikini. Then I got married and gained 15 pounds. Then I got pregnant and gained 60 more. Needless to say, it didn’t all come off. I’ve tried over the years—I’ve tried hard. But eventually I’ve given up, after gaining a few pounds and throwing in the towel, declaring myself a failure again.
At this date, after birthing two beautiful children, I’m 48 pounds heavier than I was when I got married. And I want it off…and more. I don’t want to be skin and bones. I don’t even need to wear a single-digit size. But I do want to be able to walk into a restaurant with my kids and NOT wonder if I’m being judged if I (gasp!) order a milkshake.
So there’s my story in a nutshell. I’m going to lose the weight this time. I have to. For me. For my kids. For my marriage. I’m happier when I’m at a healthy weight. I’m more self-confident, more likely to take adventures. It’s time for me. Is it time for you?