I am fat.
Or morbidly obese. Or fluffy, plus sized, hefty, large and in charge, overweight, big boned. Or whatever other pc or non pc label that you’d like to label me as.
But anyway you slice it, I am fat.
This is not news to me. I’ve often had strangers, grown up strangers, who have felt the need to point this fact out to me throughout the years, like I wasn’t aware that I was fat. I even remember my neighbour from across the street yell out “Hey Big Bertha!” from the confines of his bedroom window, hiding behind the curtains. Because ‘real’ men are cowardly like that.
But I digress…
I’ve always been on the heavier side. I don’t ever remember being ‘skinny’. I was always just bigger. I was teased in school… elementary school, middle school, high school. Heck, even in college. This sunk me further into losing my self esteem. And I turned to food.
Because I LOVE food.
Plain and simple.
During my first tour at community college, I decided to lose weight and joined Weight Watchers. I loved it! It was simple, easy to follow, and I never felt deprived. Ever. I wound up losing close to 90lbs in one year. Amazing, eh? I was down to a size 12/14, and felt awesome. I met, fell in love with my future husband. Life was grand!
Then, some unexpected things happened, forcing us to move from our home, Long Island, to where we now call home.
It was our first time on our own. And we lived close to fast food. Bonus!
We used every excuse to eat out:
It’s too late to cook, I’m too tired, We don’t have XYorZ to make ABorC, etc…
And the pounds crept back up.
And they did so for the next 10 years. I hit my highest of 245lbs (around a size 22). I was disgusted with myself and swore I would fit into my size 12s again soon. So I rejoined WW in 2008 and lost 30lbs! All while in nursing school! Amazing, eh?
Then we moved, again. This time to Georgia! Again, the stress eating, and boredom eating resumed and I gained weight, about 20 lbs. Thankfully, our apartment complex had a gym & 2 pools, so I made myself use them. Everyday. Then I joined LA Fitness. I lost the 20lbs and then some, ending up around 210ish.
Then, I began to become ravenous. Eating everything in site. The reason? I found out I was pregnant! I started my pregnancy around 215 and ended at 265. But what scared me into reality was a diagnosis I got while I was pregnant…
No pregnant woman ever wants to hear she can’t eat cake. Isn’t that the whole point of being pregnant, endless cake eating?
It really made me focus on eating right and changing my eating habits. Yes, I still had ice cream or cookies every night. Just not the huge portions I once enjoyed.
Then I delivered my wonderfully healthy and happy baby boy, and ate like there was no tomorrow when I was in the hospital. Let the nonpregnant nondiabetic woman enjoy her cake! At my 8 week post partum check up I failed my follow up glucose tolerance test. I knew what that meant.
Type 2 diabetes.
Thankfully, my A1C levels and my testing numbers after eating are well within the normal range, so my endocrinologist is allowing me to retest in April before labeling me as a Type 2. You would’ve thought that would have scared me straight, eh?
Nope. I found myself eating worse, and worse. I made excuses…. I have no time to eat right during the day, we don’t have healthy food, etc…
Then Valentines day came. I decided to bake cupcakes. I had also started a food blog and was cooking all sorts of naughty, non diabetic friendly foods. Not only did I bake cupcakes, but I made chocolate covered pretzels, and white chocolate frosting. And, of course, I had to taste EVERYTHING. I have never wanted to vomit so badly in my life. After a full day of almost nothing but chocolate and cupcakes (because I HAD to taste test those too), I was not only feeling like I wanted to vomit, but I developed a nasty headache and a few hours later all I wanted to do was sleep. Which is near impossible with a 3.5 month old.
That was it. I couldn’t do this anymore. I NEED to eat healthy. I don’t want to become a diabetic. I don’t want my son following in my bad habits.
So today, I’m making the change. I will no longer be fat. Or morbidly obese. Or fluffy, plus sized, hefty, large and in charge, overweight, big boned. Or whatever other pc or non pc label that you’d like to label me as.
I want to be fabulously healthy.
I know some may scoff at the name of the blog. But you have to understand, I found that if others can laugh at me, why can’t I laugh at myself. And frankly, the name is quite catchy. I was going to name it “Size 12 or Bust”, but I’m not defined by my clothing size. And why limit myself to a size 12? What if I’m happy at a 14? Or a 10?
I’m hoping this blog can help keep me committed and focused. You can follow the blog and follow me on myfitnesspal (username: chelleyschoe).
Happy Healthy Eating!