MsJuicy
I was adopted when I was 1 1/2 years old. I was adopted into a very healthy active family where no one has a weight problem. Birthdays, Holidays and special occasions always revolved around food. Food = Good Job, feel good, congratulations, we love you etc...
I was given many opportunities to participate in sports and activities as a child and swimming became my favorite. I was very good at it. I LOVE the water. I was always a round stout child but at the age of 10 my mom decided it was time to send me to my first fat camp. No one else in my family has a weight problem and she and my doctor decided I did. Being sent to fat camp did not help my self esteem in regards to my family because not only was I different due to adoption, now I was different because I was considered fat and that wasn't acceptable.
As I aged, fat started to stick in my mind. I was a very sweet likeable child who enjoyed many activities and I had good self esteem. At the age of 12 junior high hit. To a certain group of kids, I was fat and they let me know their disapproval ( i look at pictures now of me than, and realize i was not fat, just cute and short) When a small group of people start telling you your fat, it starts to naw at you. Even though on the outside I was happy and confident, it started to eat away at my self esteem and my self image began to change. I quit swimming. I began to gain weight and actually became the FAT GIRL!
In high school I was the quiet one, kind of sitting in the back watching everyone else live their lives outloud. To my friends, I was energetic, funny, bold ect... but to most I was just quiet, the one who could slip in and out of a room without much notice.
I started to hide behind my weight and use it to my advantage. Most people didn't want to mess with me. I was short, but big and didn't smile or talk. People not wanting to mess with me was great, but hiding behind my weight kept people at bay from me and I wasn't able to show who I really was inside.
At age 19 I was in college and having a great time. I didn't care what others thought and I was enjoying myself. I was comfortable with my size, who I am and what I was about. No one could tell me that I was not cute and sexy.
At age 22 I was injured on the job and hurt my back and knee. This caused me to be very inactive which resulted in weight gain. I turned to my friend food. Food = feels good. As the years started to go by, my weight began to balloon.
When I was 27, I was in the hopsital, pregnant with my son who is my miracle child. I had a very difficult pregnancy and the doctor's did not know if me or my child were going to survive. My weight became a major issue and I was told I had gestational diabetes. The hospital brought up WLS but I was so offended I through them out the room. I did not want to discuss my weight with anyone. After the birth of my son and he was finally able to come home, I began to eat and eat and enjoy being a mom. Food = enjoyment. As relationship issues began to arise, I turned to my friend, food! Food=comfort, it didn't hurt my feelings or make me feel bad.
I now realize my relationship with food was a close one. One that started in childhood and continued into adulthood. It is this relationship that has gotten me to be so unhealthy that my body is paying the price. My blood pressure is high, my asthma is worse and I have oseteoartritis in my injured knee. The weight is not helping this knee problem. Having a knee problem makes every day activities more difficult, including being a mom with an active child.
I am turning 32 next week and my son is four years old now, doing well and healthy. He is a very active boy who enjoys sports. He plays soccer and doesn't know why mom can't run with him. He wants to play football and wants mom to play with him. He plays at the park daily. " Mom, go down the slide with me, mom lets swing together, mom chase me, mom play with me" the words of my child to me while I sit on the bench and watch. Mom can't fit on the slide, mom doesn't want to break the swing, mom has no energy to run after her son, mom can't participate in the game. No more! I have decided I want to be here for him, in every way. I do not want to be the FAT mom. I want to be the mom who is able to run and be active with her son and not sit on the side lines.
I choose to get in the game!
