Okay guys, I've been here for about a week now, and have been convinced into keeping a diary.
First off, I'd like to say hi to all those of you I know already and to all those I will know.
Given this is a diary and more than a quarter of you will probably be reading it, I'll start with my backstory.
Ever since I can remember I've been overweight. At the tender age of 9, I weighed in at almost 170 pounds. My whole life has been a roller coaster of weight gain. I didn't realize the extent of it until I was fifteen and sitting on a sheet of crinkle paper with a doctor ticking off on the tips of his fingers all of the obesity related diseases I was at risk for. It took me five minutes to register his warnings, three minutes to understand and ten seconds to realize I needed a lifestyle change.
At my peak, I was 290 pounds of teenage misery.
I was ten pounds from half the size I should be, with a foot slowly inching towards a six foot hole. Deciding against a premature dirt nap, I resolved to start watching what I ate, and be more active.
In the spring of 04, I started on the Atkins diet. Along with my mother and her friend, I watched my carbs, started drinking diet soda and learned to love eating meat everyday for dinner. Almost instantaneously I dropped thirty, forty, then fifty pounds.
I recall being 240 during the holiday season. As you can guess, I was immensely proud of myself for having dropped a significant amount of weight in such short a time. By 05, I'd moved to a new state with my family and started a new life as a size 20. Still resolved to forgoe pastas, breads and starches, I'd lost another 10, summing my weight to 230 in February of 2005
At sixteen, I'd dropped all the way down to 200 pounds and was thrilled. Unfortunately, I didn't realize I would soon miss out on all of the foods I was denying myself. In the spring of 06, I gained back 20 pounds of dreaded fat because I was no longer satisfied watching my carbs. I wanted cake and pasta and bread and donuts, and I'd grown tired of avoiding them.
Needless to say, I was devastated when I stepped on the scale in the summer. It had taken me no less then three months to pack back on that which I wanted to live without.
It's hard for others to believe this story when I tell it. To them, I didn't seem to have gained anything back, merely lost it. The truth of the matter is-220 looks nothing like 290, so to them, I *was* thinner, to myself however, I knew I had the capacity to do better.
When I was seventeen, I resolved to get my life back on track.
I researched new ways to eat not only fat, but carbs. I knew there must be a way I could eat ALL that I wanted and still drop pounds. This is when I decided to watch my caloric intake. I started eating six meals throughout the day, not merely three large ones. Once or twice a week I would treat myself to something sugary and sweet. A cookie dough sundae was-and is-my guilty pleasure of choice. Along with my new eating habits, I decided to get involved with my brother's soccer team. I was terrible at the sport-this I suspected-but still I needed to be active.
Between the Summer of '06 and the Spring of '07, I lost thirty more pounds. At seventeen, I now weighed 190 pounds. I was elated, ecstatic, overjoyed that this new food plan was working. Though I was limiting my calories, I was enjoying all that I wanted to eat and I was satisfied.
This past Summer, I turned 18 weighing in at 183 pounds and wearing a size 14. The last I recalled being a size fourteen, I was in the 4th grade. Because I started to become seriously active the spring before, I once again joined the soccer team and now, the basketball team.
Since this October, I've lost another 30 pounds. I've remained on my food plan of 1700-2000 calories a day and began to run more frequently. Roughly, I burn 500+ calories a night on my treadmill along with the exercise benefits of basketball practice. I am saddened that the season is almost over, but excited to play again next year.
As I write this, I tip the scale at 157.4 pounds. In short math, I'm 132.6 pounds lighter than when I started this emotional and physical joyride three years ago. I've yet another 7-10 pounds to lose before I reach my goal. I'm aiming to lose it by April, it's Spring Break month and I'm going to soak up the sun in Florida.
As most of you can imagine, the joy of losing so much, of physically changing for the better has gigantic pros, and though I'm thrilled with them, I've emotional obstacles I need to overcome.
I know I should feel uberly confident and my self-esteem should be sky-rocketing to the stars, but I'm emotionally scarred from being obese. I'm scared to say I always will be, but I can't ever forget where I came from. In some ways, I believe you have to remember your past to better your future. Because of my fight with obesity, I don't judge, I'm not superficial and I'm extremely apt to like people in general. At fifteen, I used my personality to get me through in life. Though I'm physically different now, I still use humor to feel comfortable in a crowded room.
I'm trying to overcome the feeling of being secluded, as though everyone in the room is looking at me thinking, "Why can't she control herself? She must eat like a pig. I'm keeping my plate away from her." It hurt in the past, to have believed that, and though I'm absolutely certain it isn't true now, overcoming the things I've convinced myself of is more difficult that running for four miles without breath.
I'm uberly, immensely, enormously proud of my weight loss, but emotionally frail because I had to go through it.
I'm writing this, and joined this forum because I want to overcome that frailty now. I want to feel free. I want to be liberated from my chains of self-consciousness, worthlessness and self-doubt.
Not only do I want to inspire others my age, I want to feel gorgeous for the first time ever. This is the place where I believe I can accomplish that.
So thank you all in advance for reading this, for being my friend, and for motivating me to continue on my road to better my life.
I'm indebted to you all.
First off, I'd like to say hi to all those of you I know already and to all those I will know.
Given this is a diary and more than a quarter of you will probably be reading it, I'll start with my backstory.
Ever since I can remember I've been overweight. At the tender age of 9, I weighed in at almost 170 pounds. My whole life has been a roller coaster of weight gain. I didn't realize the extent of it until I was fifteen and sitting on a sheet of crinkle paper with a doctor ticking off on the tips of his fingers all of the obesity related diseases I was at risk for. It took me five minutes to register his warnings, three minutes to understand and ten seconds to realize I needed a lifestyle change.
At my peak, I was 290 pounds of teenage misery.
I was ten pounds from half the size I should be, with a foot slowly inching towards a six foot hole. Deciding against a premature dirt nap, I resolved to start watching what I ate, and be more active.
In the spring of 04, I started on the Atkins diet. Along with my mother and her friend, I watched my carbs, started drinking diet soda and learned to love eating meat everyday for dinner. Almost instantaneously I dropped thirty, forty, then fifty pounds.
I recall being 240 during the holiday season. As you can guess, I was immensely proud of myself for having dropped a significant amount of weight in such short a time. By 05, I'd moved to a new state with my family and started a new life as a size 20. Still resolved to forgoe pastas, breads and starches, I'd lost another 10, summing my weight to 230 in February of 2005
At sixteen, I'd dropped all the way down to 200 pounds and was thrilled. Unfortunately, I didn't realize I would soon miss out on all of the foods I was denying myself. In the spring of 06, I gained back 20 pounds of dreaded fat because I was no longer satisfied watching my carbs. I wanted cake and pasta and bread and donuts, and I'd grown tired of avoiding them.
Needless to say, I was devastated when I stepped on the scale in the summer. It had taken me no less then three months to pack back on that which I wanted to live without.
It's hard for others to believe this story when I tell it. To them, I didn't seem to have gained anything back, merely lost it. The truth of the matter is-220 looks nothing like 290, so to them, I *was* thinner, to myself however, I knew I had the capacity to do better.
When I was seventeen, I resolved to get my life back on track.
I researched new ways to eat not only fat, but carbs. I knew there must be a way I could eat ALL that I wanted and still drop pounds. This is when I decided to watch my caloric intake. I started eating six meals throughout the day, not merely three large ones. Once or twice a week I would treat myself to something sugary and sweet. A cookie dough sundae was-and is-my guilty pleasure of choice. Along with my new eating habits, I decided to get involved with my brother's soccer team. I was terrible at the sport-this I suspected-but still I needed to be active.
Between the Summer of '06 and the Spring of '07, I lost thirty more pounds. At seventeen, I now weighed 190 pounds. I was elated, ecstatic, overjoyed that this new food plan was working. Though I was limiting my calories, I was enjoying all that I wanted to eat and I was satisfied.
This past Summer, I turned 18 weighing in at 183 pounds and wearing a size 14. The last I recalled being a size fourteen, I was in the 4th grade. Because I started to become seriously active the spring before, I once again joined the soccer team and now, the basketball team.
Since this October, I've lost another 30 pounds. I've remained on my food plan of 1700-2000 calories a day and began to run more frequently. Roughly, I burn 500+ calories a night on my treadmill along with the exercise benefits of basketball practice. I am saddened that the season is almost over, but excited to play again next year.
As I write this, I tip the scale at 157.4 pounds. In short math, I'm 132.6 pounds lighter than when I started this emotional and physical joyride three years ago. I've yet another 7-10 pounds to lose before I reach my goal. I'm aiming to lose it by April, it's Spring Break month and I'm going to soak up the sun in Florida.
As most of you can imagine, the joy of losing so much, of physically changing for the better has gigantic pros, and though I'm thrilled with them, I've emotional obstacles I need to overcome.
I know I should feel uberly confident and my self-esteem should be sky-rocketing to the stars, but I'm emotionally scarred from being obese. I'm scared to say I always will be, but I can't ever forget where I came from. In some ways, I believe you have to remember your past to better your future. Because of my fight with obesity, I don't judge, I'm not superficial and I'm extremely apt to like people in general. At fifteen, I used my personality to get me through in life. Though I'm physically different now, I still use humor to feel comfortable in a crowded room.
I'm trying to overcome the feeling of being secluded, as though everyone in the room is looking at me thinking, "Why can't she control herself? She must eat like a pig. I'm keeping my plate away from her." It hurt in the past, to have believed that, and though I'm absolutely certain it isn't true now, overcoming the things I've convinced myself of is more difficult that running for four miles without breath.
I'm uberly, immensely, enormously proud of my weight loss, but emotionally frail because I had to go through it.
I'm writing this, and joined this forum because I want to overcome that frailty now. I want to feel free. I want to be liberated from my chains of self-consciousness, worthlessness and self-doubt.
Not only do I want to inspire others my age, I want to feel gorgeous for the first time ever. This is the place where I believe I can accomplish that.
So thank you all in advance for reading this, for being my friend, and for motivating me to continue on my road to better my life.
I'm indebted to you all.
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You have every reason to be proud of yourself and especially confident.