The Chubby Girl’s Diary

I am a chubby girl, and have been for most of my life. As a little kid, it didn’t bother me. I would run and play and never really considered myself over weight- until the 6th grade. I sat in my health class, ready for another day of food pyramid lessons, to find out about this magical thing called BMI. My teacher gave us calculators, the equation, and a reference sheet so that we could figure up our BMIs and see where we stood. And what I saw blew my little sixth grade mind. I was obese. Now enter the most insecure years of my life.
Middle school was my version of hell. While I wasn’t actively bullied, my mind was my own worst critic. I constantly compared myself to other girls and soon crash dieting became regular. With each attempt to lose weight I would soon become disheartened and disappointed when the numbers on the scale would stay or, to my chagrin, grow. Of course now I know that I was expecting unrealistic results in a very short amount of time. 

I remember the first, and only time, I was ever picked on over my weight. The bell had rung and it was time to switch classes. A line of people waited as we all exited the classroom, including a boy we will call Gordo (Lizzie McGuire, anyone?). As each girl exited Gordo would, to the amusement of his friends) use an abjective to describe them (hot, nerdy, etc). My self conciouse 8th grade self willed the power of invisibility with each approaching step but of course failed. The moment the word ‘fat’ came out it was like an emotional bomb had been dropped, informing me that my inner critic, whom I had hoped was just too sensitive, had been confirmed.

 I remember that day like it was yesterday, as silly and sad as that sounds. But it doesn’t hurt anymore, I’m actually sure that my 7th grade self would be in awe of the confident person she’s become. That sounded corny, excuse me. But! This is not a ‘stop fat shaming’ post (though that is rude and hurtful so yeah actually stop that). This is a, well,  let’s just not label this ๐Ÿ˜Š

2 years ago I decided I had had enough and I was going to diet the right way. No more bullshit short cuts. I was changing my lifestyle. Soda was out, water (and coffee) were it. No more junk or grease, no more sweets and bread. Exercise became a routine. I personally liked being outdoors, walking on a path or hiking on the rolling hills of goldenrod (I used to live in south central Kentucky, now I live on the east side in the Appalachian mountains) lost in my thoughts of “I can do this!” I lost 30 lbs in four and a half months.

And then I failed. Yes I did. I had hit a plateau and my rapid success shifted suddenly into a coma-like state. After a month of disappointing weigh ins I gave up. And that makes me ashamed to admit. I had come so far, hit an obstacle, and retreated like a dog with my tail between my legs. 

These past two years I have thought back to the moment I gave up with such regret. This isn’t an obsession with looks, this is personal health and the satisfaction of accomplishing a goal that I sacrificed because I was still the girl expecting to lose weight fast the way you see plastered on the magazines. And that’s why I failed. 

So what about now? Well I have recently decided that if I made it that far once, I can again. And this time I won’t give up. I know in my heart that I can do it. So I am! I’m going to get back into those food and exercise habits and if I plateau I’ll push forward until the scale says what I want it to. I’m currently 80 lbs over my BMI, having gained everything back (and then a few) in the past two years. Think about that. I was halfway to my goal weight when I quit, like, damn. That’s embarrassing to admit but it feels nice to get off my chest. This is a diary after all.

So as I begin my journey I’m going to make these diary posts about my thoughts on things and maybe some lessons I learn along the way. So not only is it good for me, it also gives you good content! ๐Ÿ˜Š Thanks so much for reading and, as always: TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF &MUCH LOVE- AMBER


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