The Weight I Carried — and How I Let It Go
I used to weigh 270 pounds at 5'3." It was a number that shocked even me at the time — but the weight I carried wasn’t just physical. If you know me, you’ve probably heard about my weight loss journey. But this isn’t that story. This is the one that came before it — the one about how I got there.
I was always on the chunky side growing up and ridiculously ashamed of my body. I even tried to get a doctor’s note to skip swimming in gym class like a lot of the other fat girls, but my doctor refused. I ended up skipping all but one class and getting an “F.” It put a smear on my straight-A record — and I didn’t even care. That’s how ashamed I was of being seen.
Looking back now, I wasn’t as huge in middle and high school as I believed. I was overweight and about as unathletic as they come, but I was just a little chubby. I think so now, anyway. It’s hard to look back and see clearly, because I feel so far removed from the person I used to be.
Still, in high school, being even slightly overweight can feel like social death. Boys didn’t give me a second glance. I was always picked last in gym. I might as well have already been the obese girl I morphed into later, based on how I was treated and how I felt. Add the glasses, the shy demeanor, the smart-girl vibe… yeah. I was pretty self-conscious.
After high school, I went away to college (read: one hour away) and hated it. My lifelong anxiety exploded. I moved back home after one semester, but not before going to the doctor and being prescribed generic Prozac.
That medication did two things over five years:
1. Turned me into a zombie
2. Blew me up like a balloon
In the time I was on it, I gained about 100 pounds.
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| 1. High School (2007), 2. Heaviest (2011), 3. After losing 120 pounds (2013) |
Now, I won’t pretend it was just the meds. I was already lazy, unathletic, and a huge fan of food. But I’d always been like that — and had managed to stay overweight, not obese. The medication (and a miserable relationship I was in at the time) pushed me over the edge into full-blown obesity.
I still remember crying in January 2012 because I couldn’t STAND how I looked. That’s when I stopped the meds cold turkey and started trying to change my life.
I don’t entirely blame the medication — and I’m not resentful. A lot of people take it with success. Bravo to them. I blame myself, too. I’ve always struggled with food. Honestly, it got harder after I lost the weight. I couldn't eat with the same abandon anymore, and I missed it. Still do, sometimes.
I think about food constantly. I dream about it. I plan cheat meals days in advance. I love food. I probably always will.
But now, I control it — most of the time.
Sometimes I laugh about the "fat days." Back in my fat days, I would’ve eaten that entire bag of chips. Back in my fat days, cookie cake for breakfast was a thing — and not a rare one. Do I miss it sometimes? Sure. But it wasn’t worth it.
I’ll trade a few moments of indulgence for something bigger: To feel good in my body. To be proud of how far I’ve come. To look in the mirror and not wince. To be happy within myself, for once.
And you know what? I kind of am.
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