How did I get here?

I weighed 9 lbs 3 ozs when I was born.  From day one, I was always heavier than everyone else.  I remember being in a ballet recital in kindergarden and they didn't have a tutu big enough to fit me.  They had to take a second tutu and sew it to the first one to make one that fit.  That was the first time I recall ever being embarrassed about my weight.  I was 5 years old.  I remember through my early grade school years that I was always "on a diet" and my lunches always had things like carrot sticks and celery in them - which I never ate.  I wanted a "normal" lunch like all my friends had - a lunch that had Kool Aid in a thermos instead of room temperature milk.  I wanted the cookies and the chips and everything else that would make me "normal" in the other kids' eyes. 

As I approached middle school, I moved and transferred to a new school.  Kids are SO cruel at that age, and it didn't help that I had thick glasses, good grades, and a Richard Simmons perm.  If I sat here and listed every nasty thing that everyone had ever said about my weight, it would probably be enough for me to want to hang myself right here and now.  It STILL hurts, even 25 years later.  And what did I do when I was upset?  I ate.  High school and college came and went.  Nobody really said much about my weight, but then again, a lot of the people I hung out with had their own monkeys on their backs.  It was just an unspoken promise that we wouldn't do anything to agitate each other's demons.  They never gave me a hard time about my weight, but I was still miserable inside.   I DID manage to lose about 30 pounds in college, because I had the time to exercise and I pretty much had to walk everywhere.  By the time I graduated, I had a car and all that weight was back.  Then came the times where I would hang out with friends and couldn't fit in the booths at certain restaurants, the plane rides where I was so fat I needed a seatbelt extender, and the one that still gives me nightmares - boarding a roller coaster and having to get right back off because the harness didn't fit me.  I wanted to die.  I really did.  I still cry when I think about that day.  Thank God I was with GOOD friends and they didn't say anything, but I can imagine what they must have been thinking.

Do you know the worst thing about being young and overweight?  The clothes.  I've never been able to shop at a "normal" store.  Nothing fits me.  I'd LOVE to be able to go into Macy's or Old Navy and buy straight off the rack, or even be able to try things on.  But no.  Not me.  I have to order my clothes through a catalog.... and they're ugly.  They're some of the ugliest and most unflattering clothes you could imagine - stuff that a homeless person would probably not wear as a top layer for fear of being made fun of by the other homeless people.  THAT'S how ugly "plus sized" clothing is.  And there's no such thing as a store that carries CUTE and SEXY bras, panties, and lingerie for heavier women.  I wonder if it even exists, and if it does, if it comes big enough to fit without making me look like I've been stuffed into a sausage casing.  Let's face it - NOTHING looks sexy or flattering when you're pushing 400 pounds.  That's one of my goals - I want to be able to shop wherever I want.  I want people to look at me and think that I'm actually pretty.  I want to be able to wear some of the latest styles - I'm so tired of these A-line tunics that I may very well burn them once the weight is gone.

Because of my weight, obviously not many guys would give me the time of day.  And that saddened me as well.  I'm smart, I'm kind, I'm funny, and I would do just about anything for the people I love.  Aside from my weight, I'm a pretty darn good catch.  But guys couldn't see past the extra pounds, and I was insanely lonely.  It was the teenage and college-aged guys who made my self-esteem plummet.... and they still do.  You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know when people are snickering and pointing at you.  It's no big secret that when a car full of 17 year old guys drives by yelling "Hey baby!  WOO HOO! Sexyyyyy!!!" they don't really mean it.  I am 34 years old and those young guys still manage to break me down several times a week.  And the kids.... oh my God, the kids are the worst.  It's not uncommon for a 5 year old to point at me and say something like "Wow Mommy, why's that lady so fat?"  And you know what?  The mother NEVER reprimands the daughter for it.  They usually just shush the child and move away from me.  To me, that's the PERFECT time to teach your child about acceptance and polite social behavior - to teach them that not everyone looks exactly the same.... and that's OK.  Sure, I hold my head high and ignore them, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing that what they're saying makes me want to burst into tears and never leave my house again.

Despite my weight, I managed to meet and fall in love with the most wonderful man.  He is kind and he loves me for WHO I am, not WHAT I am.  He loves me whether I weigh 500 pounds or 100 pounds.  I can't even begin to explain how amazing it feels... after all these years... to be accepted and loved, knowing that the man I love in return sees past the extra weight and straight into my heart.

I also managed to give birth to the most beautiful, funny, and curious little girl - one who ALWAYS has a smile on her face.  Her smile and laugh is so contagious that it's actually impossible to be in a bad mood when she's around.  I've known people who are having a bad day who have asked me to bring her over for a visit just so she can spread some of the sunshine that radiates from her very soul.  She is the light of my life, and part of the reason I'm embarking on this journey - she deserves a mommy who can play with her and keep up with her.  Right now I can't, and it kills me.  I try not to cry in front of her, but sometimes it's hard.  And then her innocent eyes get all worried and she asks "Mommy, why are you sad?  Why you crying, Mommy?"  And there's another 8 billion knives right into my already damaged heart.

About a year after she was born, my boyfriend proposed and I accepted.  We're getting married!  It took me a while to find my prince charming, but yes - there's a wedding in my future. :-)   Unfortunately, that also means I have to find a wedding DRESS and that nightmare has actually awakened me during the night in a cold sweat.  A street size 32 means a formal wear size of 36 or 38 - and those dresses just don't exist.  There isn't a single bridal shop in a 500 mile radius that carries a size 36 sample dress in ANY style.  I don't even know if the designers make them that big.  And I'll be honest - I don't want to look like a beached whale on my wedding day.  I've shed so many tears at the thought of having to special order my wedding dress without ever being able to try it on.  I WANT to go wedding dress shopping.  I WANT to try different dresses on and show them to my mother and look for the tears to form in the corner of her eyes when I find THE DRESS.  Unless I lose weight, I can kiss that dream goodbye as well. 

Of course I have all sorts of health problems related to my weight and my doctor has pretty much told me that if I don't lose weight NOW, I will die.  How can I do that to my beautiful little girl - leave her without a mommy just because I am addicted to food?  How can I leave her when she's too young to remember me?  How can I leave my fiance' and everyone else who cares about me when it IS possible to change my own fate?  It's like Ebineezer Scrooge when he wakes up after being visited by the 3 ghosts.  He's so thankful to be alive and decides that change is not only a good idea, but a necessity.  Losing this weight has become MY necessity. 

So that's where I've been, and I'm ready to stop living in the past and move forward.  I can't promise this will always be the most uplifting blog, but I CAN promise that it'll be one of the most honest that you'll ever read.  Hopefully I will be an encouragement to others, to make whatever changes THEIR lives need.  Hopefully I will show that fat people are real people with real feelings, and maybe you'll think twice before making fun of someone due to their weight once you read this.  And maybe, once in a while, someone will leave a comment that will encourage me to keep on going when what I want to do is give up.  I KNOW those days will come, but dammit, I WILL be a beautiful butterfly at the end of my journey!!!