Its always been obvious that I'm not the same size as the world around me. The mirror doesn't lie and it's not like I haven't known I'm fat. From well meaning friends and doctors with raised eyebrows I can't even begin to count how many times I've been asked, “so, how old were you when your weight became a problem?” I've answered the question with a combination of laughter and blunt honesty. The manner of delivery may change, but the kernel of truth remains, every single memory of myself includes a fat me.
As I child I was chubby and while I succeeded academically I was ridiculed and teased. I was Thunder Thighs, the chatty smart kid who was always one of the last kids chosen for kick ball teams, the little girl who never had first a “boyfriend” to hold hands with. Being a fat kid was rough enough, add in being an asthmatic fat kid and I felt like a leper. In junior high I remember perfecting changing into my PE clothes in less than a minute flat because I didn't want anybody to see my flab. Imagine my anxiety when we did a swimming unit in 7th and 8th grade!! In high school I further buried myself in the world of academics. I took college level classes, joined the Speech & Debate team, participated in successful Mock Trial and Academic Decathlon competitions and generally did my best to forget that I had never been kissed, never dated and never went to a single high school dance.
The size of my clothes is different, but its more than that. As an always fat girl, I'm simply different. In some ways I appreciate a kind smile more than most, I feel for the chubby kid I see huffing and puffing at the park, and when I see a young woman look uncomfortable in tight unflattering clothes I immediately sympathize...and sometimes a feeling of deja vu washes over me.
One way or another, I've always had to deal with my weight. I've ignored it, made fun of it, laughed about it, and for the most part I've made a conscious effort through awkward moments and feelings of inadequacy to not let my size define me. For as long as I can remember “I'm more than just a fat girl” has been my mantra. While I may have hid and avoided my feelings, I've always tried to not let my size hold me back. I've laughed, loved and danced like nobody's watching...
Throughout the years people have remarked that I have a good self esteem. Sometimes I think thats the case, and sometimes in the back of my head I wonder if my high confidence level is nothing more than a coping mechanism. Deep down I know thats not the case; I know that I'm smart, beautiful and wonderful...but on particularly bad days I can't help but wonder.
In the past few years I've finally reached a point in my life where I'm DONE being this fat. In my heart I know I will never be small, in fact I think I will always be a large person...only I know I'm not meant to be this large (nobody is). I thought about starting a new blog detailing the thoughts and emotions involved in losing weight, but decided to go back to my old blog. This journey is a part of me not only discovering who I am, but making the conscious effort to decide who I want to be. I need to have all the pieces of me in one place.
The number on the scale only tells one story... I've decided its time to share the rest.
