The Weight of the Matter

The bigger you are the more of you there is to love...

That was always my Grandmother's motto when it came to me feeling down on myself as a child over being, for lack of better words, a chunker. At least she always said it with a hug, and it was, believe it or not, with her form of sincerity.

At the age of 7, I began going through that awkward phase where I was free of my baby teeth, and trying to grow into my new ones. And ironic enough, my baby fat had made a triumphant return. You know how they say, kids are cruel? Well, yeah, they totally are, I got teased and was called such things as "fat, and "pig" on the playground, and strange enough, that has never left me. They say that we as humans never remember the positive things we hear, but yet we zoom in on, and never forget the negative. For example, fifty people could compliment you and tell you that you looked nice, but it would only take for one person to say the opposite, and that would be all you hear, all you'd recall. All those other lovely comments be damned. That goes to show, negative feeds negative. Perhaps that was when my self-esteem problem originated, of that I'm not exactly sure. One thing I do know for sure is that was when my battle with weight first began. Or as some call it, "the battle of the bulge." Now true, once I reached that ever wonderfully adolescence stage (sarcasm), and puberty made it appearance, I experienced a growth spurt, and grew up, rather than out for a change....BUT, I still felt uncomfortable in my own body, and that I was still "fat", so hence, cue the early teenage years of eating disorder stage.

Some call it anorexia, but I can't say that I was anorexic, after all I did allow myself to eat one popsicle every day. Always either grape, or orange. I suppose in some twisted way I thought that counted as a serving of fruit for the day. It took some dedication of staying away from food, but I managed to achieve my goal weight of 115lbs. And the real catch? I still felt, "fat." Now upon looking back at old photos of that time in my life, I looked horrible, pale, collar bone sticking out. I simply looked ill and not at all healthy. What was I thinking?

Finally after my immune system took a hit, and getting really sick, I slowly started introducing food back into my diet, or should I say, the lack thereof a diet. Then slowly, and ever so frequently I began gaining weight...and weight...and weight. I went from one extreme to another. By the time I graduated high school I didn't think it was possible for me to gain any more weight, and yet, I still did. I couldn't stop, I just kept gaining. I was always active, always worked nothing but physically demanding jobs, it wasn't as though I sat around stuffing my face with Twinkies all day or anything. True, I didn't have the best of eating habits, but if I was going gain weight at warp speed anyways, I would have rather enjoyed it and went all buck wild on all the foods I love.

For the next few years until the age of 25, I continued my battle. I was unhappy, miserable, depressed, my anxiety was getting the best of me, and I was to my emotional breaking point. Something needed a change. I needed to change. And so, I changed my way of thinking, started adding regular exercise in my daily life, and became more food conscious, and at turtle speed, I started losing weight. To say it was easy would be a lie, losing weight is the hardest thing there is to do, if anyone ever claims different, they're lying. There's no such thing as "dieting", it's a way of life, starting firstly with mental preparation, and self-encouragement. I do not own scales, nor like knowing my exact weight. The last time I was on a set of scales was about a year ago (my sister harped until I did), so therefore I do know for sure that I have lost over 50lbs to that point. At least once a week I have a run in with an individual who comments on my weight loss, or some who have exclaimed, "I didn't even know who you were, you've lost so much weight!" As much as I like hearing that, it also makes me sad, I'm saddened for the old me and all her pain.

I'm still not happy with how I look, so my goal for this calendar year is to lose another 20lbs. I feel that's reasonable, and will not result in setting myself up for a great disappointment. I tell you though, it's so hard! I try, and try, and try, and it's as though I'm at a plateau weight-wise right now. The doctor tells me that with my hormone levels the way they are, and my estrogen gone a-wall, it makes losing weight more difficult. Then come to find out, my condition (which you're born with, to which there is no cure) would have been a contributing factor in my gaining so much weight in the first place. Estrogen causes your body retain a lot of water, and the imbalanced hormones affect insulin resistance...meaning, I've got a lot stacked against me. And get this...losing more weight aids in balancing hormones, but yet, hormones will keep you from losing weight. A real catch-22! So frustrating!

I refuse to give up, and I keep pushing myself - now having been upping my cardio by jogging rather than walking. It's getting easier, my wind is getting better, and I can feel myself getting stronger each time. Also, having an ipod (thanks to dear boyfriend), with some upbeat workout music really helps, too. Just one dilemma now...a bull moose hanging around my running trails. Hmm, I'm not sure if I should be alarmed due to the many tales I have heard about moose charging...they are pretty massive...

Nah, what's more scary, a charging bull moose, or a woman with a hormone imbalance? Exactly! Like any other male, he'd run from me.