I’m not sure why now to be honest. Why make these changes. Why try to lose 200 pounds? The thought alone is daunting to say the very least. I mean, I’ve tried this before and I failed terribly. Well, not actually terribly, I’ve even lost 50 pounds before, but gained it all back and another 30 or so to boot.
1) I’m tired of being fat. Aside from the fact that I’m just a heart attack or a stroke away from the end of my life. I’m just tired of being fat and all that comes with it. Being tired all of the time, never finding clothes that fit, always feeling like the outcast, never feeling sexy and/or comfortable in my own skin, I mean, let’s be real — this list goes on and on.
2) I don’t want to die. Yes, I’m only 28 [Yeh, almost 29 actually] and I fear dying at an early age, all because I didn’t know how to put the fork down or because I didn’t get my lazy ass off of the couch. Both my mother and my father are obese and both have diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure… my dad even had his toes amputated — he’s only 57. I don’t want that to be my end game, that’s only 30 years from now. If that’s what I have to look forward to, then I want to change my life — as soon as possible.
3) I want to feel desired and be sexy. But first, what is up with my obsession for lists? Anyway, I’ve always been the girl that sits on the sidelines and watched my friends enjoy their lives as small people. I mean, my fat ass can barely stand, let alone dance and boogie down on the dance floor [Maybe I’m uncool for being fat, but part of me says some of that uncoolness comes from me just saying ‘boogie down’]. No one wants to dance with the girl that’s twice their size. NO ONE. I totally don’t blame them either — I know I wouldn’t.
4) I want to fit in. All of my life I’ve always felt like that puzzle piece that made it’s way from one puzzle piece to another. I didn’t quite fit. But due to my occupation, I was also squeezed into those puzzles by force because I had to interact with people, I had to be social, I had to be a people person — but only on the outside. Inside it was tortured, humiliated, miserable — ALWAYS. Just once I would like to feel comfortable in my own body. Just once. I started to yearn for this feeling. The thought of fitting in for once became my drug — still is. I want nothing more than to not feel like I was being judged before I opened my mouth, just because I am obese.
So, I think I’m ready. This time feels different. I know that there will be hiccups along the way, I mean, there always are. But who’s to say that those hiccups will not just make me stronger, give me more resolve to hit my seemingly outrageous goals… or maybe those hiccups will inspire me to be the best me that I can be…