Hey everyone. I just started eating better and exercising a month ago... for the first time in my life. I have a lot to say with my story, soo.. prepare yourselves for goo.
My weight's always been the one thing holding me back. To this day, I've never been in a relationship. I've been on several first dates (all from online), but second dates never seemed to happen. I couldn't figure it out-- I was always pleasant, and dare I say funny. But no one wanted more. I was ignored, rejected, and all-around dissed. The only thing I could think was wrong was the way I look.
I'd think, "Well, I don't want to be with a guy who can't accept me how I am anyway." And it was my excuse to keep lazy and eat whatever I wanted, when I wanted. But companionship is something that's always been missing. Not once have I ever gotten that gooey feeling when I know that the person looking back at me really likes me. Really really likes me. And it hurt (and still hurts) to know that. A lot.
These overweight women on TV, on makeover shows or Biggest Loser or whatever-- they always had husbands or boyfriends. And I think, what do they honestly have to be all sad and gloomy about? They have a man in their life who loves them, and who they can love back. So I'd turn the channel out of spite. Even Steve Urkel got a girlfriend, for chrissakes.
My mother sent me to a nutritionist in 6th grade, when I weighed 168 pounds. But this only served to hurt me. And even though I got down to 154, when the program was over, so was my diet. And the weight gain progressed more and more throughout high school until it was terribly out of control.
By the time I was 18, I weighed 320 pounds. I'd go to amusement parks with friends, and be humiliated when we stood in line for over an hour, only to have to stand off to the side and let them ride the roller coaster without me after the bar wouldn't fit over my stomach. To this day that is the most humiliating moment of my life. And then I just had to pretend I didn't like roller coasters, for fear of it ever happening again.
Getting on planes-- wondering if the seatbelt would fit. Not taking an open seat on the bus, because it was next to someone and I didn't want them to be angry the fat girl sat next to them and took up their rightful space. Pretending to buckle my seatbelt in friends' older cars, when it actually didn't fit at all, and just hold it by the buckle with my hand. Picking a female cashier and not a male one at the grocery check-out, so a guy wouldn't have to see what I'm eating and laugh. I was ashamed.
When I saw my pediatrician for the last time when I was 18, the scale couldn't even weigh me, because I was over 300 and children aren't supposed to weigh over 300. So she led me to a room where there was a large scale platform on the floor, and weighed me there. I was fighting back tears the entire time. So she had a serious talk with me about it all. "There's no secret here," she said. "All it takes is being active and not eating junk." I knew she was right.
When college came around, I was walking everywhere on campus. With a meal plan, and being poor in general, I only ate the 3 times a day I was allowed. The weight started dropping. Freshman 15? More like the Freshman 45. Except in the opposite direction. I was on the right track. Until... it.. happened.
I fell, well.. not in love, but something like it. With my best friend. And when it got too hard to keep it in anymore, I told him. I told him everything. And he said he didn't feel the same way. And then.. he never talked to me again. I was broken. And I ate.
Throughout the next 3 years of college, I remained alone. Not by choice, definitely not. But with some people, it just happens that way. My weight pretty much maintained at 275. Junk food+lots of walking=even. Then it happened again.. another guy. This one was worse. I never liked or felt this way about anyone in my entire life. But still feeling the scar of the first (and last) time I told a guy my feelings.. I kept quiet. I couldn't lose this one. But a part of me also knew he would never go for me anyway. I felt ugly. And if you don't feel worthy enough of love, you're never going to receive it in return. So I just... pined.
After college, I moved a thousand miles away to the twin cities for a professional school. I was still talking to the guy from before who I never told about my feelings, and he started to flirt a little. I was confused. So I did it back. And he did it back more. And it went on like this for months.. before.. before he asked me to come home and see him. It would be a 14 hour drive. I took it.
But bad, bad things happened here. Basically, I threw myself at him and fell face-flat on the ground. Nothing had ever felt that terrible. Nothing. I could actually feel my heart ripping in half. He stopped talking to me, like the last one. I thought he was disgusted by me. I hated myself. I HATED myself.
And so I ate.
That took nearly a year and a half to get over. For about 6 months after it actually did happen, I found myself thinking about him daily and crying for hours at a time. I spiraled into a depression deeper than anything I had ever experienced before. It was ugly. But then he started talking to me again. I'd scared him, he said. He didn't know what to do with me. But then he'd talk about some random girl he'd slept with and how great it was, and I'd just cry over my little laptop and pretend everything was ok. But, very obviously, it wasn't.
I talked to him less and less as the next couple of years went by. He always made me feel terrible, so I knew the only way to emerge out of the dark hole was to let him go. And I did. And I was over it. I dated more and more, sometimes 3 different guys a month.. but none of them ever called me back. Ever. I went in feeling so confident, only to be slapped in the face and forced to deal with how I look to a grotesque degree. I was alone. Utterly.
But very recently, the friend from before who hurt me so much started talking to me again.. in a lot of detail. Not at all like the detached, heartless conversations I'd had with him in the years between when I went to see him and the present. It was like when we were friends in college all over again. I'd forgotten how much I'd missed him. He was being genuine. He was being my friend again.
So I told him about my loneliness troubles. And the weight fears. And he said, well, if you spent nearly as much time getting in shape as you did worrying about not being in shape, you wouldn't have a problem at all. He said I have a pretty face. But I told him it would just be too hard to put all the effort and stress into dieting right now. "Harder than feeling sorry for yourself," he said. And that's when I broke.
The very next day I gave away all the unacceptable food in my cupboards and refrigerator to a friend from work. I relinquished all my Arby's coupons to another. I bought workout videos. I bought new food. I was doing it. I was finally doing it.
This was a month ago. So far I have lost 15 pounds and am down to 260. I have not cheated a single time. That would be incredibly stupid of me to do, so I won't. I want to look in the mirror someday and know I'm beautiful. Not cute, not pretty. Beautiful. And I already feel loads better since beginning. I was previously using an inhaler for my asthma once or twice a day. But right now, I haven't used it in over 3 weeks. I don't feel sick in the mornings anymore. I'm not sluggish, and I feel like I'm waking up a little more for the first time in my life. I feel good. And it's weird.
I'm not just doing this to get some awesome boyfriend or anything. I'm doing it for myself. It's terribly hard to do this all alone with no support system from anyone, but I'm doing it. And I won't stop until it's done. I don't just want someone to love me, but I want the chance to let someone else let me love him. I think I have so much to give. I just want the damn chance to give it-- for once in my life. Just once.
Anyway, that's me in way more than a nutshell. Hope to get to know a lot of you, and feel some support on the road to confidence.
Thanks!!
My weight's always been the one thing holding me back. To this day, I've never been in a relationship. I've been on several first dates (all from online), but second dates never seemed to happen. I couldn't figure it out-- I was always pleasant, and dare I say funny. But no one wanted more. I was ignored, rejected, and all-around dissed. The only thing I could think was wrong was the way I look.
I'd think, "Well, I don't want to be with a guy who can't accept me how I am anyway." And it was my excuse to keep lazy and eat whatever I wanted, when I wanted. But companionship is something that's always been missing. Not once have I ever gotten that gooey feeling when I know that the person looking back at me really likes me. Really really likes me. And it hurt (and still hurts) to know that. A lot.
These overweight women on TV, on makeover shows or Biggest Loser or whatever-- they always had husbands or boyfriends. And I think, what do they honestly have to be all sad and gloomy about? They have a man in their life who loves them, and who they can love back. So I'd turn the channel out of spite. Even Steve Urkel got a girlfriend, for chrissakes.
My mother sent me to a nutritionist in 6th grade, when I weighed 168 pounds. But this only served to hurt me. And even though I got down to 154, when the program was over, so was my diet. And the weight gain progressed more and more throughout high school until it was terribly out of control.
By the time I was 18, I weighed 320 pounds. I'd go to amusement parks with friends, and be humiliated when we stood in line for over an hour, only to have to stand off to the side and let them ride the roller coaster without me after the bar wouldn't fit over my stomach. To this day that is the most humiliating moment of my life. And then I just had to pretend I didn't like roller coasters, for fear of it ever happening again.
Getting on planes-- wondering if the seatbelt would fit. Not taking an open seat on the bus, because it was next to someone and I didn't want them to be angry the fat girl sat next to them and took up their rightful space. Pretending to buckle my seatbelt in friends' older cars, when it actually didn't fit at all, and just hold it by the buckle with my hand. Picking a female cashier and not a male one at the grocery check-out, so a guy wouldn't have to see what I'm eating and laugh. I was ashamed.
When I saw my pediatrician for the last time when I was 18, the scale couldn't even weigh me, because I was over 300 and children aren't supposed to weigh over 300. So she led me to a room where there was a large scale platform on the floor, and weighed me there. I was fighting back tears the entire time. So she had a serious talk with me about it all. "There's no secret here," she said. "All it takes is being active and not eating junk." I knew she was right.
When college came around, I was walking everywhere on campus. With a meal plan, and being poor in general, I only ate the 3 times a day I was allowed. The weight started dropping. Freshman 15? More like the Freshman 45. Except in the opposite direction. I was on the right track. Until... it.. happened.
I fell, well.. not in love, but something like it. With my best friend. And when it got too hard to keep it in anymore, I told him. I told him everything. And he said he didn't feel the same way. And then.. he never talked to me again. I was broken. And I ate.
Throughout the next 3 years of college, I remained alone. Not by choice, definitely not. But with some people, it just happens that way. My weight pretty much maintained at 275. Junk food+lots of walking=even. Then it happened again.. another guy. This one was worse. I never liked or felt this way about anyone in my entire life. But still feeling the scar of the first (and last) time I told a guy my feelings.. I kept quiet. I couldn't lose this one. But a part of me also knew he would never go for me anyway. I felt ugly. And if you don't feel worthy enough of love, you're never going to receive it in return. So I just... pined.
After college, I moved a thousand miles away to the twin cities for a professional school. I was still talking to the guy from before who I never told about my feelings, and he started to flirt a little. I was confused. So I did it back. And he did it back more. And it went on like this for months.. before.. before he asked me to come home and see him. It would be a 14 hour drive. I took it.
But bad, bad things happened here. Basically, I threw myself at him and fell face-flat on the ground. Nothing had ever felt that terrible. Nothing. I could actually feel my heart ripping in half. He stopped talking to me, like the last one. I thought he was disgusted by me. I hated myself. I HATED myself.
And so I ate.
That took nearly a year and a half to get over. For about 6 months after it actually did happen, I found myself thinking about him daily and crying for hours at a time. I spiraled into a depression deeper than anything I had ever experienced before. It was ugly. But then he started talking to me again. I'd scared him, he said. He didn't know what to do with me. But then he'd talk about some random girl he'd slept with and how great it was, and I'd just cry over my little laptop and pretend everything was ok. But, very obviously, it wasn't.
I talked to him less and less as the next couple of years went by. He always made me feel terrible, so I knew the only way to emerge out of the dark hole was to let him go. And I did. And I was over it. I dated more and more, sometimes 3 different guys a month.. but none of them ever called me back. Ever. I went in feeling so confident, only to be slapped in the face and forced to deal with how I look to a grotesque degree. I was alone. Utterly.
But very recently, the friend from before who hurt me so much started talking to me again.. in a lot of detail. Not at all like the detached, heartless conversations I'd had with him in the years between when I went to see him and the present. It was like when we were friends in college all over again. I'd forgotten how much I'd missed him. He was being genuine. He was being my friend again.
So I told him about my loneliness troubles. And the weight fears. And he said, well, if you spent nearly as much time getting in shape as you did worrying about not being in shape, you wouldn't have a problem at all. He said I have a pretty face. But I told him it would just be too hard to put all the effort and stress into dieting right now. "Harder than feeling sorry for yourself," he said. And that's when I broke.
The very next day I gave away all the unacceptable food in my cupboards and refrigerator to a friend from work. I relinquished all my Arby's coupons to another. I bought workout videos. I bought new food. I was doing it. I was finally doing it.
This was a month ago. So far I have lost 15 pounds and am down to 260. I have not cheated a single time. That would be incredibly stupid of me to do, so I won't. I want to look in the mirror someday and know I'm beautiful. Not cute, not pretty. Beautiful. And I already feel loads better since beginning. I was previously using an inhaler for my asthma once or twice a day. But right now, I haven't used it in over 3 weeks. I don't feel sick in the mornings anymore. I'm not sluggish, and I feel like I'm waking up a little more for the first time in my life. I feel good. And it's weird.
I'm not just doing this to get some awesome boyfriend or anything. I'm doing it for myself. It's terribly hard to do this all alone with no support system from anyone, but I'm doing it. And I won't stop until it's done. I don't just want someone to love me, but I want the chance to let someone else let me love him. I think I have so much to give. I just want the damn chance to give it-- for once in my life. Just once.
Anyway, that's me in way more than a nutshell. Hope to get to know a lot of you, and feel some support on the road to confidence.
Thanks!!
