Time Keeps On Slippin'
I can’t believe it’s already February. Hell, it’s almost half-way through February at that. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I may not (and probably won’t) hit my mini-goal by the time I go to SXSW. I’ll still keep doing what I’m doing and see what happens.
In January 2003, when I decided it was high time I change my life, I told myself that I didn’t gain 150 extra pounds overnight and it certainly wasn’t going to come off overnight. I think it seems like I gained it overnight because I was in denial about my weight and health for so long. One day I woke up, looked in the mirror and was shocked at what I saw. I just had no idea. My body image has been screwed up since I was young, so I honestly have no idea what my body looks like or feels like in a healthy state.
When I was kid, I was taught that eating was bad, fat was bad, and what other people thought of me mattered most. I was convinced I was going to grow up to be fat. Be a lady and look lovely. Smile and act nice. I don’t blame my mom for this because this is how she was raised, too (and my mom was an amazing woman). I don’t blame my grandmother because that’s how she was raised. It just is what it is. I also know that my mom had put on the freshman 15 in college (she was a gorgeous UCLA Bruin pin-up when now her figure would probably be considered “plus-size"). Ninety-nine percent of the maternal lessons I learned in the first 10 years of my life have benefitted me, just not the ones about body image and health. I just wish I knew then what I know now.
After my mom died, I stopped eating for a while. Then I started eating a lot and my stepmother put me on a crash diet in 6th grade. By high school, when I was technically “slim” (130-135lbs on my 5’10” medium-build frame), my body was still unhealthy because I was vomiting or starving all the time. When I moved out my dad and stepmom’s at 17, I plumped up because I was diluting my angst with food. At 20, I was with a guy I didn’t love, I was 265lbs, my dad had just died and the only thing I had any control over was what I put in my mouth.
Cut to now, age 32. I’ve been through the deaths of both parents, I’ve been through 2 majorly failed relationships (one of which left me financially and emotionally devasted), I’ve driven across the country by myself twice, I’ve gone from bankruptcy and living in my car to being a founder and partner in a successful company and through it all, food was my comfort and my body was something I just didn’t see. I didn’t deserve to see… or so I thought.
Well, in 2003, I saw. Oh BOY, did I see. I saw my body for what is was… a big ol’ fatty mess? Yes, indeed. But it also is strong and resilient. It’s carried me through a lifetime of experiences within the first 30 years of existence. And while not perfect, it’s curvy in the right places, I’m grateful that I’m tall and I have great skin… stretch marks n’ all. I am a smart, creative, powerful, independent woman. I’ve lost 80 lbs.! Sure, I still have more to go, but I am proud of myself and what I’ve accomplished. Food may have been my solace, but my body is the only one I have and its gotten me this far. I really shouldn’t be so hard on it. Life is hard enough.
I am excited to experience my body how it is intended to be: healthy, fit, physically strong and radiant. The outside should match what’s within. It’s only fair.