Trigger warnings: mention of anorexia, low self-esteem and familial pressure.
I've struggled my entire life to like how I look. I was a
string bean growing up; everyone thought I had an eating disorder. Then
overnight I sprouted into a hippy, curvy, big busted woman and I was
looked at for other reasons. The average woman in the US is a size 12-14 so
claiming that my size 7 was large to me seems a bit self-obsessed but, honestly, going from a size 2 to a 7 is a lot to a teenager. It is especially difficult when you are going through puberty
and have been “fat shamed” your entire life by your mother; yes, even when I was a size
2. I was taught that in order to lose weight, or like yourself, you must not eat
for a month and only live on SlimFast. Anorexia was a must in my family, talked
about daily by my mother, and because my sister and I didn't fit the standard
that was laid down, we bore the consequences.
My frustration only heightened when I hit high school and
all these gorgeous popular girls were so much tinier than I was. I learned then
that there WAS a fat and skinny and if you didn't conform to societal
standard, you were fat. Shopping for clothes no longer seemed enjoyable and I
didn't really care much about my appearance. And, then on top of it all, I was
sexually assaulted my senior year which pushed me even further into my “I don’t
care how I look” phase. It was difficult.
Fast forward to starting to date the man I now call my
husband. He has ALWAYS called me beautiful. I started to come out of my shell and
become interested in dressing nicely and putting more effort into how I looked.
I gained a little more weight but he didn't care because he loved me for who I
was, not who I could turn into. I felt like I was finally hitting my stride as
an adult.
Then along came a girl just like my mother. My brother in
law started to date a girl who, right out of the gate, I disliked. And I honestly
didn’t figure out why until about three months into their relationship. She was
anorexic and, without saying too much for fear of getting on a soap box,
verbally abusive to all those around her, including my husband, brother in law,
their parents, and myself. We fought especially hard most days because I had
just cut off all contact from my family a few years prior and I really didn’t
want to deal with all of it again. It was very frustrating to watch her starve
herself and feel helpless about it. It was difficult for me to watch my brother in law, a quiet man and an introvert, cater to her anorexia. None of us really
knew how to act. I put on more weight, I think, because I wanted to prove to
her that weight didn’t make you who you were. I ended up feeling bad about
myself and it was used as a weapon. One of the first things I ever heard her
say about me was, “I didn't think your brother would be into chubby girls”. It
was like I was right back in my parent’s household.
It was four years later in October 2013, when their marriage was imminent and I had enough of listening to insult after insult about my weight
and my appearance, I snapped. June 2013 I had decided I was going to show everyone.
I finally put my gym membership to use 3-4 days a week and started to follow
my mother’s rules. I ate, but very small amounts. I measured myself every
single day. It was also at this time that I finally owned up to my allergies.
I’m lactose intolerant and suffer from celiac disease. I went from 142lbs in June to 105lbs in
October. I wore a size zero for their wedding and finally felt triumphant.
But it didn’t change anything except my relationship with my
husband. I was tired all the time and crabby. I hated eating because it was a
way for me to gain weight. I still got made fun of. I felt like I was chasing a
unicorn. So, in the new year I started lifting weights. And then I talked to
a trainer. I started to transform my body. My husband encouraged it because he
admitted he was getting incredibly concerned about my health. I regained 20lbs of healthy weight, mostly muscle. I was informed that the average
woman should be between 20-22% body fat and I was at 13% at the beginning of the
new year. I was at 14.5% when I got serious with the trainer. I can only imagine
what I was at that past October. Each fraction of a percent was celebrated, but
it also made me cringe. I felt like I was getting fat again but I kept with it
anyway because it meant so much to my trainer and my husband.
From a photoshoot, a few weeks ago.
Currently I love my body, most days. Every curve is
celebrated. It’s been an incredibly hard road and I still have problems. I
can’t eat until I feel full. Days that I feel bloated are awful for me
emotionally. Exercise is still difficult. I find myself looking for a change
immediately and if there isn't one? Oh boy. But I eat the calories I’m supposed
to, I stay away from foods that I’m allergic to, and I find comfort in myself(or
a few gluten free cookies). I’ve begun to model and while that has put a lot of
pressure on me emotionally to try and deal with the women who are far skinnier,
I try to revel in the fact that I will fill out the clothing just a touch better than they
can.
My progress (l-r): June 2013, November 2013 and March 2014.
I read an article once where a woman who was obese and had lost a lot of weight
tried to explain that no one really tells you about the pressures and
expectations once you lose weight and it’s true for all sizes. I would never
claim to have an eating disorder. I never starved myself calorie-wise and
I never purged. I just became obsessed with the image that is flouted in
magazines and on television. I wanted to be that person. And now I realize all I really
have to be is myself. My body fat is now 16.9%. And it’s difficult writing this
but I want everyone to know that you are not alone. You can be amazing without having to conform to societal norms.
So, understand that as I reveal my
struggle. I am strong for speaking out about the events that have occurred and the consequences/results. I don’t give a flying fig what anyone else thinks about me now J.
My husband, Joel, and I.
And my husband still calls me beautiful J
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