Two years ago, I had a baby. L came into our lives via cesarean and since then, I have not taken care of myself. The age old "You're a mom, you had a baby" is just not an excuse. I have steadily gained back 25 of the 35 pounds I gained while pregnant, and guess what? This time it isn't a baby. It's a destructive cycle of bad eating, overeating, and not enough activity, like, at all.
I thought I could just bury my sadness in elastic waist pants and a jar of Nutella, and while elastic waist pants are cozy and Nutella is yummy, it's time to face myself.
I am fat. Obese. The numbers don't lie, and over the past few months, I've been feeling physically worse and worse. Achy muscles and joints, tired easily, huffing and puffing over activity that should not make me huff nor puff.
It's embarrassing. I never wanted to be "the fat mommy". And it's not about self-love and acceptance. It's about physically being unhealthy and being scared shitless that I will kill myself from the inside out if I don't change. So I am being brutally honest with myself. I'm taking a good hard look at the photos of myself over the past four years. It's becoming increasingly difficult to see myself in pictures because I genuinely don't like what I see. I'm disgusted. And as a photographer, I feel awful that I want my clients to feel good and look good, yet I can't walk the walk myself.
Last night, I had a bad episode. Without going into detail, I was bawling in bed, in the dark, and S was trying to comfort me. I lost it. I was experiencing physical pain that I know would not be there if I was taking care of myself.
These thoughts went through my mind...Is this rock bottom? Is this the reality check I need to cut the shit and start making changes? God, I hate the way I look. I hate the way I feel. How can he look at me and find me attractive and sexy when I've blown up like a blimp in the 5 years we've been married?
So here it is - confession time. I've worn elastic waist pants, skirts and empire waist dresses for two years. I have not bought new pants up a size or two because I haven't found any that fit my increasingly apple-shaped midsection without making my legs look like that were swallowed by a black hole of fabric. I've squeezed myself into my size 14 skinny jeans and wore large flowy tops to hide the XL muffin top.
I'm tired of it. I'm waving the flag. I want to wear real pants again. I want zippers and buttons and a waistline again.
As a vow to myself to be honest, even when it feels brutal, I'm putting it out there.
Today, I'm 215lb. Size 16/18. At 5'5", that's obese. My home scale says my body fat is at 44.7%.
I'm tired of being fat.
I know it won't be easy. Or quick. I know I'll fluctuate. Hell, I've seen my weight fluctuate up to 5lb a day due to water, salt, time of the month...Being a lady ain't easy!
I know what I need to do. I just need to do it! I'm glad to have a place to write out all of this - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Hopefully over time, there will be much more good.
Start today.
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