I spent the last 10 years trying to motivate myself emotionally and physically to lose the 100 pounds I gained while I was with "Jerkface" (this is what we'll call him for all intents and purposes). I can't blame him 100% for causing me to gain the weight I have now, since we've been apart for so long. I can mostly blame him for starting the ball rolling.
I was bullied to get on Depo Provera because he was "sick" of using condoms for birth control. I did research like a good girl and saw that there was "minor" weight gain and not enough had been published at the time to warrant any fears. The bullying persisted, and I agreed.
In the year that I had the shots. A YEAR (along with further bullying) I gained almost 100 pounds (among other health issues). It seemed like it was overnight.
Now, in the case of genetics, my fathers' side of the family are all fairly meaty people. I had that going for me as well. As well as depression and very low self worth. (Mostly caused by "Jerkface"). After surviving a couple more years of torment, we went our separate ways. I was still 100 pounds overweight.
I went to the gym because it was free through work, I did yoga and pilates (I love pilates!) and started to get my weight and life under control. Then I started taking an anti depressant that fucked my life up even more. I started drinking heavily, my mood changed and I started fighting with my coworkers. I was a ticking time bomb. When I realized that it was medication ruining my life instead of a deadbeat, I snapped back to reality in a major way. I quit my job, stopped the meds and went back to school.
5 years later: I'm at the brink of success with school, all my life's roads have lead me here. I'm happy. I have a stable and extremely loving relationship, I'm close to my family, my outlook is changing and it's all good. But I'm still 100+ pounds overweight. I can't blame it on "Jerkface" any longer. I can't blame it on stress, I can't even blame it on my brother passing away. I blame it on lack of motivation and confusion.
This is where "acceptance" comes into play. If you boil it down to the bare bones, my thesis is about body acceptance. At whatever size. No fat hate, no skinny hate. I want to lose weight so that I can fit into the "cute" clothes, wear tank tops without paranoia, be happy and focus on the more important things... life! And be healthy. And that's ok. I don't have to justify working out or losing weight to anyone but me. If it will help my sleeping, my health and my confidence, so be it. If I'm healthy and happy at a size 22 or a size 16, great. I'm not built to be rail thin. It just won't happen. That's ok too. Being comfortable and confident is what I'm reaching for.
While I was writing this show called "What's eating me" was on, and it's heartbreaking to see that someone's image of their body can be so bad, that they're willing to die to change it. It's sort of opened up another avenue, for my thesis that I hadn't really prepared myself for. I can't sympathize with the same sort of body hate to want to starve myself, but I can sympathize with the motivation.
|My Halloween costume. With a little skin exposure. Ooops! I'm normally pretty reluctant to have photos taken of me below the neck. But in the nature of honesty... here I am!|