I remember, growing up, my mother making comments about my short chubby little legs or my butt, especially around puberty (which is a bitch in my family) I, like most girls, added some chubbiness on top of my already growing 'awkward preteen' resume. I remember playing by the pool with one of my best girl friends (who happened to be a string bean all through school) and doing a split, "Your fat’s hanging out of the side."
When all my girlfriends took up ballet in JR high school, I wanted to go too. "You can't do that, you're too fat". I wasn't ballet material for numerous reasons, and I'm sure that the required leotard would've been less than flattering, but I was by no means a living breathing weeble wobble. Once the summer before my freshman year of high school rolled around I figured out the magic of calorie restricting. I was never good at math, but I knew that if I kept my daily caloric intake around 500 and did that same amount of crunches, I no longer was the proud owner of the awkward preteen chub.
The boyfriend I had in high school was not particularly helpful to my weight obsession. I suppose when you take on unhealthy habits or lifestyles, you, in turn, attract unhealthy people. I had dated him for many years. When we started dating, I was still in my very thin stage, and once I became within a 'normal' weight range the comments from him would start. I have a lot of food allergies (which probably only exacerbates my anxiety with food) and had a very limited menu that I could eat from at the lunch room at school, which mainly consisted of chips and a drink. We would be sitting with my friends and when I went to open my bag of chips, he'd snatch them away from me and say, “You don't need to eat those.” Eventually we ended up sitting by ourselves during lunch ... gee I wonder why .... After high school we broke up. My relationships with men that were less than healthy seemed to be a running theme.
So what’s the moral of the story here? I'm not sure exactly. I know that I'm floating around in eating disorder purgatory with my 'security blanket' of body image obsession, yet it can make me so miserable. I know I'm going to fight like hell to make sure my daughter knows how gorgeous she is, and to make sure my son treats every woman with dignity and respect, and love her for who she is. Now I'm at my pre-baby weight, but my old clothes aren't quite fitting the same and my body has changed ... let’s just say that losing a total of 100 baby lbs can cause some sagging ... and drooping ... *I feel pretty**oh so pretty* ....so now besides the numbers on the scale, I have a whole new area to obsess about, and unfortunately the only way to fix those particular problems I'd have to visit Dr.Nip/Tuck because no amount of exercise can get rid of extra skin.
I go through highs and lows of my own self image. If I make a conscious effort to compliment myself and try to feel good, then I do feel better, but it is a lot of work after almost 20 years of self loathing, and sometimes my efforts get lost between working a full time job, doing laundry, cleaning the house and changing diapers.”