I’ve been going back and forth with how I wanted to share my weight loss journey… it only feels right to begin when I was a kid. Every weight loss story starts some where… mine started here…
During my younger elementary years, I wasn’t “overweight“. I loved to play outside, and generally was fed a healthy diet.
ACTIVE: I played outside a lot. I remember always wanting to go outside from the moment the sun came up. I loved summer time (even though its so dang hot here), playing anything from hide ‘n seek, kick ball, dodge ball or just running around like a silly little girl. It was so much fun.
DIET: I don’t recall my diet being terrible as a child. I really loved fruit, so I’d choose that over a chocolate cake any day. My mom cooked, and dinner was always spent around the dinner table. I remember HATING carrots… but the first time I tried carrots they were out of a can… yuck. Never do that to any child. Those things are nasty. I was never taught about making healthy choices though, in which I don’t believe my parents were ever taught either. Sodas and pizza were a Friday night staple in our lives and as a child you eat what you’re given.
Somewhere around 4th, 5th, 6th grades, playing outside wasn’t cool anymore… and junk food became more and more common and craved in my everyday life.
The middle school years were by far my least favorite years. I was so glad when they ended. When middle school began the pounds started to cling on to me. As a young girl you’re changing and quite aware of your “size”. Whatever size that may be. But when you’re a 12 year old girl and wearing a size 12, you start to realize you’re not like all the other middle school girls. Insecurities run high. You hear tons of girls, thin girls, say how “fat” they are. I started to think they had literally lost their minds… but then I thought, if they thought they were fat, then what am I? Huge.
Let me just say… I firmly believe that “FAT” is a state of mind.
You can be overweight and not fat. You can be thin and think you’re fat. Saying you are fat is a mind set, saying you are overweight is saying “I’m not staying like this forever”.
ACTIVE: Zero. None. Nada. Zilch! I never remember going outside and “playing” or even doing any sports activity at all. At our church youth group, everyone was always playing valley ball, basketball, etc. I always was too worried to jump in and play because I was the “big girl” and didn’t want to make a fool out of myself. Really I was a fool for not doing any physical activities.
DIET: Talk about terrible. I ate a lot. I ate because I was bored, I ate because I was happy, because I was sad, because I was mad, because I couldn’t figure out how to stop. I just ate. I remember sneaking food a lot. Especially after dinner. Say we had pasta (MY FAVORITE), after the family ate, I’d have to clean the kitchen, I’d always make myself another full serving and eat it when no one was watching. My gosh that’s so sad to admit, but its true. And heaven forbid if I got on hands on a bag of candy, pint of ice cream, it was over. Empty and gone in one sitting. Self-control did not exist. What was self control? I was a good kid, very good. Never got into the “bad crowd”, never drank, smoked, anything. I guess you could say food was my drug of choice. It made me feel (temporarily) good.
I never showed how sad I really was.
I was a very “happy” young teen. I smiled, I had awesome pretty friends, I never let on how badly I hated being in the body that I was in. I never let on how most nights I cried myself to sleep, because I truly hated being overweight. I thought I was ugly. I would get so mad at myself for not being able to be thin and pretty like all my friends. I’d pray “God please, this year, let me be thin”… I’m sure God was giving me opportunities to choose a healthier lifestyle… but when the choice came between making a healthy choice and eating a whole box of a cookies. Well, I chose to binge. Healthy, was something I was not. It was such a sensitive subject for me. One that could easily bring me to tears in front of my family or friends. I wasn’t a big cryer. I liked to be strong. But being overweight made me feel weak. I let my appearance hold me back on so many things. I believed all the lies I was telling myself.
I remember just being sad, with a great big smile.
Funny how we hide such things. Maybe, just maybe if during sad times in our lives we reached out to someone, we’d find the help we needed?