I was born with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. I was a fat baby, however I question where all of the weight went as I quickly grew into a knobby, stringy child with more defined muscle than fat. I didn't really start observing (and silently judging) my body until I started high school, which happened to be located on the wealthier side of my city. My arthritic pain over the years resulted in little exercise, so I was behind the curve when it came to the appealing muscle tone that every other girl seemed to have. I gained a fast metabolism from my father, however, so I maintained a pretty steady 106-112lb weight throughout high school and up to my 23rd birthday. I also piqued at a whopping 5'4" tall by freshmen year - seeing so many girls around me over 5'7" also added to the feeling of falling short (hah!).
I'm currently 33 years old--I'm 5'8 and 143 lbs. I have struggled it seems with weight since I was about 8 years old. At 12 I started dieting, and everyone telling me how beautiful I looked boosted my confidence. Unfortunately, I didn't have anyone guiding me the right way with this diet, and by 14 years old I dropped down to 86lbs. After that I wasn't allowed to see the # on the scale. I know I was at 80lbs when I over heard my mom taking to my Aunt on the phone. My weight went up and down my teenage years.
All my adult life I've been 5'7" and weighed between 125-130 lbs. I have a small frame but had enormous breasts. I hated them. I took being slender for granted as I never dieted, ate whatever I wanted and never really had a "formal" workout plan, though I was active and I'm not a snacker. In 1994, right after I had my second child (I had gained about 30 lbs. with him and was almost down to my pre-pregnancy weight), I found out my husband of 8 years was having an affair. We divorced soon after and due to stress, I weighed in at 115 lbs. and wore a size 4. I stayed at that weight for about 4 years when I married my dear husband and had 2 more children. My weight crept up to 130 lbs., which is still well within acceptable for my height. Due to stretch marks and my giant breasts, I didn't dare wear any revealing clothing and felt quite self conscious about my body.
I've struggled with weight my entire life. By the winter after high school graduation, I weighed 195lbs. This was mortifying to me. Within 5 months I lost 60 lbs. by doing cardio 6 hours a week and "eating clean." I was skinny! But I hated my body composition: flabby stomach and arms, no "toned" appearance.. and the weight loss never stuck. I regained and lost 15 lbs. for probably 3 years before I regained almost all of the weight due to my dietary and exercise lifestyle being unsustainable.
I have struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. I have been anorexic and bulimic. Even at my age of 54, I still suffer bulimia. I do not even know why I do it since I am not losing weight from it anymore. When I did lose weight from vomiting, my skin became very loose. I seldom do this anymore, and I am trying something a bit different. I have purchased the portion control containers, and I do believe they are helping me realize that I do not need to eat so much food to survive. Food is fuel. We eat to live, not live to eat! We should anyway!
I've been overweight since I was around 9, and had been obese (thanks, depression/alcohol abuse!) since I was at least 23, but despite being bullied about being The Fat Weird Kid, it's never bothered me much. I think on some level, I'd maybe gained weight intentionally, as a way to armour myself, to have a convenient excuse for not participating in stuff. My body was always sort of an afterthought at the best of times, and a minor inconvenience at the worst.
I have struggled with my weight since I was a little girl. I started gaining weight rapidly when I was 10, now 14 years later I'm still gaining weight. After medical conditions, I have decided that once and for all I'm going to do something about my weight. A lot of people always say to me that I'm fat, ugly and some times even useless, BUT I've stopped listening to what they say. The only person who can judge me is myself.
I was an anorexic for a little over 8 years. It was diagnosed the summer before my 6th grade year--no one really knows when it started originally. I have been a recovering anorexic for 6 months now and have gone from 80 something pounds to 130. I want to be happy, to feel ok in my skin, but it's always hard. Even my boyfriend, who I got healthy for, can't make me feel better about my body all the time. I found this site just today, in the worst week of insecurities I've had in a long while. And after the initial shock and crying fit, this is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Thank you so much everyone, you make people like me see what beauty can really be even in ourselves.
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