Losing the weight, reclaiming my voice, and learning not to hate myself this time
I’ve pretty much always been the fat girl.
In middle school, I shopped in the plus-size girl’s section at JCPenney. In high school, I squeezed into “regular” clothes like all my friends, even when they didn’t quite fit. In college, I gained another 100 pounds — crossing the line from “fat” to “morbidly obese.” At that point, I could only shop in plus-size stores that carried sizes in the 20s.
It was exhausting. It was degrading. It was depressing.
But eventually, you get used to it. You get used to being uncomfortable in your own skin. You get used to missing out, to shopping only in certain sections of certain stores. You get used to guys ignoring you and girls looking down on you. You get used to never wearing a two-piece, never getting the cute clothes, never being in style — because you have to settle for the few things that fit, even if they’re ugly.
Fat becomes a way of life.
Until one day, you realize: enough is enough.
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| Left: from the fat archives (270 pounds). Right: today (197). Interesting to note how much happier I look. |
I’m sure you know my story by now. How I went from 270 pounds to 152. How I lost the weight. How I started living. How I became confident. How I felt good. How I finally liked myself. How I got healthy. How, for once, I wasn’t the fat girl anymore.
And I loved it.
For the first time in my life, clothes shopping became fun. I could walk into almost any store and find something that fit. I wandered through the regular-size sections, feeling like an imposter — but knowing I belonged, because I fought to belong. I could pick something off the rack and know it would fit — and maybe even look good too. I could wear stylish outfits. Fitted clothes. Not baggy things meant to hide me, but things meant to show who I was.
I was becoming me.
I’ve said it before, but I was always me — even when I was fat. But it felt like I had to hide who I was. I guess I was me… just toned down.
After I lost the weight, I found my confidence. I found my voice. I felt lighter in more ways than one. And while I know that weight doesn’t define a person, not everyone else does — and it felt good to finally look how I felt inside.
I didn’t get to be the skinny girl for very long.
As you also probably know, I gained back 70 of those 118 pounds during my pregnancy. I was at my lowest weight for just a few months before the scale crept back up. And suddenly, I was her again — the girl I had always been. The fat girl.
But here’s the difference: This time, I’m working on forgiving myself.
Not for being fat — but for letting my weight spiral again. For gaining way more than the healthy amount during pregnancy. For putting myself on the back burner again.
And here’s something else: I’ve already lost 35 of those 70 pounds. I’m halfway there. HALFWAY!
I’ve always been the fat girl. But I can also be the girl who changes her story.
And I am.
One pound at a time. One ounce at a time. One choice at a time.
I’m getting back to me. The happiest, healthiest version of me.
So today, on this journey back, I could say:
“I’m only halfway there.”
But instead, I’ll say this:
“I’m already halfway there.”
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