In a world that often dictates how we should feel about our bodies, I found myself resonating with a meme featuring a heavyset man on a surfboard, declaring, “Forget it, I’m overweight.” It could have easily depicted me. Society expects me to feel disheartened by my size, as I watch my child play, unable to keep up. The notion is that I should have a revelation in the grocery store upon spotting a fitness magazine, leading me to the gym and a healthier lifestyle, which I would then document to inspire others. But the moment I feel that pressure, my rebellious spirit kicks in, and I can’t help but raise my middle fingers to those expectations.
Instead of conforming, I aspire to be a source of FATspiration. This is my story of self-acceptance, or whatever self-help jargon you prefer.
My journey with body image began in the third grade. I can’t recall the catalyst—perhaps it was a comment from a classmate or a relative—but that was when I first recognized my weight. For years, I hoped I would “grow out of it,” and during junior high, I was thinner but still felt inadequate. At 5-foot-2 and around 135 pounds, I had a normal BMI, yet compared to the “popular girls,” I felt like I fell short. That’s when I began to experiment with fasting, and my internal critic emerged.
Throughout high school, my weight fluctuated, yet dissatisfaction lingered. I resigned myself to the idea that wearing a bikini was off the table. At least I was fortunate to attend a school where bullying was relatively minor; I developed a sharp wit and a self-deprecating humor that likely deterred potential bullies. However, my harshest critic was always within.
By graduation, I was in a relationship with my first husband and weighed 165 pounds. I felt out of control and resorted to fasting and diet pills—an unhealthy cycle. During my marriage, my weight became a constant source of insecurity, fueling my aversion to intimacy. I’d exercise, lose a bit, gain it back, and obsess over my weight, which overshadowed everything else in my life. Then, my doctor diagnosed me with hypothyroidism, explaining my weight struggles.
But things didn’t improve. After suffering a severe ankle injury, I was immobile for months and gained weight, reaching 250 pounds by the time I divorced. While weight wasn’t the sole reason for my marriage ending, I placed significant blame on it. I was deeply depressed, masking my feelings with a facade of normalcy while battling self-loathing.
A year post-divorce, I engaged in a crash diet and dropped to nearly my high school weight. The compliments rolled in, and I received attention from men, but I was essentially starving myself at 500 calories a day. All the while, I questioned my happiness. I had become thinner, but my old self-loathing merely transferred to new insecurities: “You’re still not skinny enough,” “You’re alone,” and “You’ll be a cat lady forever.”
Then I met my current husband. Falling in love and starting a family shifted my priorities. The birth of my daughter was transformative; it made me reconsider what true happiness meant. I realized life is full of challenges, and there’s no such thing as perpetual joy. I reflected on the harmful cycle of self-hatred I had maintained and how it might impact my daughter. I didn’t want to pass on the message that being “not good enough” was acceptable, so I decided to stop.
I stopped obsessing over diets, exercise schedules, my jeans size, and what others thought of me. I quit equating my worth with my weight. Did my self-hatred disappear? No. Am I perfectly content? Not quite. But I recognize that no one is. I began to appreciate the goodness in life that exists regardless of the number on the scale. Does this mean I’ll never attempt to lose weight again? Not necessarily, but it’s not my current priority.
I know some may view me as lazy or undisciplined, believing I burden the healthcare system with my “unhealthy” lifestyle. There was a time I would have agreed, but now? I hope to ruffle their feathers with my unapologetic presence, all while enjoying my cheeseburger and living my life.
For those considering their own journey toward parenthood, check out resources like this informative page on pregnancy and explore options like the at-home insemination kit to guide you on your path to parenthood.
Summary
This article recounts the journey of embracing body positivity and rejecting societal pressures surrounding weight. The author reflects on personal experiences from childhood to adulthood, highlighting struggles with body image, relationships, and self-worth. Ultimately, she emphasizes the importance of self-acceptance and the realization that happiness is not determined by size.
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