This is an incredibly difficult thing for me to do. To me, this post is more than just an introduction to my situation – it’s a glimpse into previous failures. It’s acknowledging all of those times I said, “I’m going to make a change!” and never really did. I guess that’s healthy though, right? Isn’t admitting you have a problem the first step in pretty much any support group?
Okay, so here goes: I have a problem with my health. I could easily start this by saying that I’ve struggled with weight my entire life, but that would be a lie. I was a classical ballet dancer for 12 years of my adolescence. While I was never skinny by any stretch of the imagination – a size 12/14 at my healthiest adult size – I was certainly not overweight.
What I have struggled with my entire life is confidence, and that is what eventually bit me in the ass. As I grew older, I slowly started to let my self-doubt creep into everything I did. I listened to people that I should have ignored. People like my ballet teacher, who refused to let me bump up to the advanced class simply because of my size. “You’re too big to be a real ballerina!” she would say. So after several years of waiting and trying my hardest – of skipping my classes just so I could make them up in the advanced class and dancing circles around most of the girls in there – I quit. I listened when I should have told her to go to hell.
Then the weight really did start piling on. It was a slow trickle at first, but definitely enough to notice. Suddenly, I was the ‘fat one’ and I hated every pound of myself. I listened to the stupid high school boys that poked fun at me for my weight. I always thought I was the most hideous, fat, disgusting blob of a person in the entire world.
I couldn’t see myself. Long story short, I steadily gained weight from graduation onto today. Now that I’m 34 years old and have more life experience under my belt, I realise that there’s more to a person than their looks. I also realise how wrong I was. My mother has my senior picture on her desk, and it breaks my heart to look at it. Back then, my size was nowhere near what I always saw in the mirror.
Now, it is. I don’t think I’m the grossest person in the world anymore – not by a long shot. But size wise, I am exactly what I always feared becoming.
I need to make a change, and I need to really mean it this time. There are so many reasons why, but the overarching reason is to save my life. I am at a real risk of dying if I don’t get my shit together. But the other reason is that I want to be a mum. I haven’t ovulated in years – YEARS – because I’ve been acting like nothing’s wrong. If I don’t change my life, I don’t have a prayer of having a child.
I’ll go more into my plans in a future post, but here’s my jumping off point (of sorts). Consider this the swan song of an unhealthy lifestyle whose departure is long overdue. Today I commenced a new way of life, and I’m doing to do my damnedest to make it a great one.