From the age I was even able to care about my appearance I have struggled to love my body; heck, to even just like my body.
I have a distinct memory of when I started to be concerned about my appearance. I was in second grade and my best friend in my class was rail thin with long blond hair and blue eyes. I remember sitting next to her and looking down at her jean-clad thighs. I noticed that her thighs didn’t spread like mine did when she sat. I think I began to view my body as the enemy that day.
I was heavier, even at seven years old, than a lot of children. It increased steadily over the years until I hit high school. When I was 17 my father died of a long illness. After that my weight skyrocketed. At my heaviest I was 365 lbs. I didn’t even realize how big I was because, for years, both my mother and I had shied away from having our pictures taken because we were both so ashamed of our bodies. (My mother is heavy as well.) The day I decided to make a change was the day a relative showed us a picture she had taken of us with my grandparents. I looked at my mother and asked “Am I really that big?”
It took two years of dedication and re-dedication, but I got down to 280. I plateaued there for several months until I got a job and moved. The stress must have done something to my appetite because, without even being conscious of it, I lost another 20 lbs. I am now currently between 263 and 260 (because my digital scale hates me and won’t give me a consistent reading). I’m smaller than I was in high school, but I feel the worst that I have ever felt about my body.
Due to my weight, or my self-esteem level due to my weight, I have never dated, never kissed anyone, and I’m 23 years old! I’m at a point in my life where I want to start dating (I’m independent, just starting my career, and have moved out of my mother’s house).
But I look in the mirror, and even though I’m happy with the changes that have occurred with my body, it’s still my enemy because I think, “Who would ever want to date me?”
I’m still losing weight and I’m dedicated. My goal is to get down to 250 lbs by the end of the year- a realistic and healthy weight loss goal, I think. But I just have to wonder, when will my body ever stop being my enemy? When I reach my final goal of 200 lbs, will I be happy with my body then?
