The Road Back: Part One

This morning I was getting breakfast ready and heard the news person introduce a piece about 'The Road Back'.  It caught my attention and I looked up to see they were talking about obesity in America.  Ironic, as weight and weight loss has been on the forefront of my mind.  I've been writing entry after entry in my head for months, my favorite title being, "Shit Gets Real".  But this slightly hopeful title motivated me enough to actually sit down and write about some things which have been on my mind lately.

When beginning this blog, most everything was complete ridiculousness.  When you have 3 children who are 4 and under your life is a circus... literally.  The only way to stay sane is by opening up the three rings and let others glimpse at your show, hoping someone gets a giggle out of it. 

2013 is beginning life on a more manageable scale.  I don't have those funny anecdotes to publish as the kids are becoming less like monkeys and more like humans.  Fin does still play with her poop but I suppose she'll outgrow that at some point.  Soon.  Let's hope real soon.

Many, many years ago one of my closest & oldest friends was upset with me.  I sensed it as she banged around our shared house. I point blank asked her why she was so mad at me.  I anticipated on getting a run down the well-known laundry list of 'bad roomate' qualities I knew I possessed. But, she instead turned around and with slight disgust and some sadness said, "Because you gained weight." She thought I was destroying my body and that made her sad and sick.  Amazing.  That moment was 14 years ago and my emotions still surface when thinking of it.

It's not that she wasn't correct.  After high school and the lack of constant physical activity I put on some pounds, maybe 15-20 the first 3-4 years.  At 21 though, I had surgery to correct my severe reflux disease.  I had terrible habits in college but wasn't able to indulge greatly because nearly everything made me sick.  After that surgery, I could finally eat without throwing up.  Drink and... well I usually threw up when I drank so not much changed there... but I didn't feel so sick.  All those bad habits started stacking up.  With stress, night after night of all nighters my lifestyle was catching up to me.   Quickly too.  The thing was, I didn't care.  Really.  I had a long-term boyfriend who loved me for who I was and I was molding the designer within at school and interviewing for co-op jobs, moving, moving and moving about 9 times in just a few years.  Fact is, that's all I could handle.  My thought was, I'd deal with the weight later. I'm surviving the best I know how.

I graduated, breathed a sigh of relief and opened my eyes for what seemed to be the first time in 5 years.  My boyfriend of 7 years and I had moved in together, I landed a job during a recession and I had a paycheck... and insurance!  I remember going to the allergist.  I hopped on the scale and couldn't believe what I saw.  I knew I had gained weight but... wow.  I'm up nearly 60 lbs from high school.  But things will slow down, I'll get into a workout routine. 

A year later I got engaged and joined Weight Watchers.  One meeting I summoned the courage to say something during the share time.  "I bought my wedding gown this weekend".  I got claps and congrats.  Then I got, "So did you buy it a size smaller?".  Something about that rubbed me the wrong way and I never went back to another meeting.

See, getting married while obese isn't all shits and giggles.  My experience with buying a dress was wrought with anxiety & sadness.  I didn't invite my mother or sister.  I didn't invite a whole gaggle of friends.  I chose my most uplifting friend because no matter what she saw on me, I know she would only see me as beautiful and tell me so.   By the grace of God that day, I walked into David's Bridal and asked for the largest size in a dress I had seen months earlier at a bridal show (and fell in love with).  The saleslady looked at me and the dress, slightly worried before a smile broke out saying, "We just got that style last week in plus sizes!"  I grabbed my normal size and tried it on, only to have to get a size up.  When I tried on the larger size, I said, "That's it!  I'll take it!". My uplifting friend looked shocked and said, "Don't you want to try on ANYTHING else? Don't you want to look at another style?  Something?".  Nope.  I paid for it and walked out with my dress that day.  The whole experience lasted maybe 20 minutes.  And I didn't even have to stifle tears trying to find something to fit.  Winner, winner chicken dinner. 

So when that bitch at Weight Watchers asked if I got a smaller size,  I wanted to punch her in the nose... a little.  Ok, a lot. 

Why I am rambling on you ask (and threatening bodily harm)?  Well, I'll ramble on some more soon and let you know.  There will be more storytelling of my road to where I'm at today.  Because this year, I'm going to try to find that elusive road back.

To Be Continued...