Living as someone who is overweight is a battle. It is a constant fight with yourself. “I should get some exercise.” “Nah. I don’t want to…I’m too tired.” “I shouldn’t eat that.” “But I want it! Just this once…” “I should lose some weight.” “I’ll start tomorrow….right after I eat this.” Sometimes you win that battle, sometimes you lose. Obviously, most of the time, I lost. If I had been winning, I wouldn’t have watched the scale go down 5 pounds and up 10…or down 60 and up 80. Down and up, down and up, until I finally hid the scale and stopped weighing myself. I couldn’t face it anymore, so I didn’t. I gave up the fight.
Just because I gave up, that didn’t mean the problem just went away. As much as I tried to hide from it, I was reminded every day. Every time I looked in the mirror, put on clothes, went shopping, traveled, got into or out of a car…or a chair…or pretty much did anything moving around in the world. Since I had given up, I just got used to it. This was my life. I was the fat girl. I didn’t really know how to be anyone else, so I stopped trying.
Last year, by the grace of God, I decided that enough was enough. I decided to start fighting again. Little by little, one decision at a time, it became my life. Now, for the first time, I’m not fighting any more. I’m not giving up either. I’m living. I am finally free.