I don’t mean the holidays. I mean bathing suit season.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that I have fought with my weight for years. The summer between 6th and 7th grade, I went from 75lbs to 150lbs. It was only up from there. I stayed fat my entire time in school. I never really cared because in my head, everyone loves the fat kids.
Shortly after graduation, with nothing to do, I joined the Army. I went from 240lbs to 155lbs between September 2005 and November 2005. I did it very fast and I was probably very stupid for doing it this way. I am sure I could have died from sleeping hours in the sauna.
Fast forward to September of 2006, I weigh 125 and I am discharged and then I find out that I am pregnant. Gah… there goes these phenomenal abs and ass. When I was pregnant with Adison, I gained over 70lbs. I didn’t lose the baby weight either because for some reason being alone at 20 and raising a baby made me want to eat. A LOT.
I also was so busy breastfeeding, cleaning, working full time to support a fucking loser ex that fast food and Chinese buffets were my life. I got bigger and bigger until I moved to NY where horrible circumstances made me balloon back up to 250lbs. For those of you who don’t know, I am a little over five foot. So here I am rolly polly and round as hell.
Yet again, an abusive relationship got me into such a funk that all I did was eat and I was way too lazy.
When I met my husband, I weighed 240lbs. He is the epitome of physically fit. He’s 5’4 and 130lbs of pure muscle. His arms are like tree trunks and he chooses to be with me and be married to me. While I feel honored, I am truly embarrassed for him and of myself. I have let myself get to this point where I am disgusting.
While pregnant with Ben, I lost nearly 65lbs. I have kept most of it off but I am still way to overweight to be even near healthy. I breathe hard going up and down the stairs and when I lay down to sleep it feels like their is a full grown person sitting on my chest. I feel embarrassed to go out with friends because they’re slim and I’m not.
All this time, I thought I was okay with my body. Okay with who I was and felt like I loved myself so it didn’t matter what I looked like. Well, I fucking lied.
I love myself. I don’t love who I am or what I’ve become. I have become complacent in being the American average. My husband deserves a healthy, attractive wife. My children deserve their mother for as long as possible. Most of all, I deserve to be healthy and fit and happy.
So today starts my diet and exercise. I realize I am not going to lose nearly 100 lbs in 2 months. I also realize its going to take work but I can’t live like this anymore. My family runs rampant with diabetes and heart disease and I willingly let myself get like this without any regard for the devastating consequences.
I sat and tried to blame it on on anything.
“Oh, I just had a baby.”
“I don’t have time to exercise.”
“I don’t have time to prepare healthy meals.”
“My kids won’t eat this.”
Well, no more excuses. I need to be healthy.