This post was inspired by the women at Losing It In Ottawa, particularly by Lara’s post yesterday. I admire their courage in putting it all out there for the world to see, pictures and all, and I hope to match their successes with my own.

I’ve been fat most of my life.

When I was a kid I didn’t really notice – it’s cruel to say but there was another girl who was bigger than me so I was never “the” fat girl. I got teased but it was nowhere near as brutal as some of the stories I’ve heard lately. I remember weighing 170 lbs in Grade 8, and considering I was only 12 years old and probably was much over 5′ tall, that’s too much.

When I got to high school I stopped eating as much and started walking home about halfway through Grade 9, so by Grade 10 I was as thin as I’ve ever been. My mom kept asking me how I was doing it, and when I think about it now, I was sort of starving myself during the day and then binging in the evenings, so I was thin, but really not healthy, and in no way ‘fit.’ The strange thing about it was that I lost 40 lbs without really noticing until my pants started falling down.

I didn’t gain it all back in one shot. I know by the time I finished high school I had regained some and it felt more like me. I think I was back up to about 170 lbs, but at a much more comfortable 5’9″. When I worked for a year after high school I was probably the healthiest I’ve ever been.

And then I went away to school, and started eating out more than cooking at home, driving to school and getting little to no exercise and little sleep. After college, there was getting depressed, moving across the country twice, getting more depressed and eating way too much, having no time and no opportunity to exercise, and I was at my highest weight ever.

When I went back to university, I was busy and much happier, and I don’t really remember what was happening with my weight while I was there, at least not until Joe and I got engaged and we both decided it was time to do something about it. I wanted to lose 50 lbs before my wedding, I ended up being happy with 30.

And then it crept back up on me again, and then I was pregnant and allowing myself whatever I wanted. When the baby was born I weighed 220 lbs, I am now back down to 210.


That’s fat.

I’m told I don’t look that heavy. Joe tells me not to call myself fat, he doesn’t like the word, but it’s a fact.

I’m a fat girl, and the past few years have been a new experience for me because I was never really uncomfortable with my body before, but now I am. I blame part of that on how I got here – I know I’m unhealthy and I know I’m unfit. I also blame part of that on my PCOS. It feels like I’ve done this to myself, and if I could lose the weight and keep it down, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.

I don’t care about being fat, I care about feeling the way I feel, and if I don’t change now I’m never going to because it’s only going to get harder.

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