About Being Plus Sized

One day I sat down on the edge of my bed and looked into the mirror at myself and I began to cry. The past year or two had been very stressful for myself but I never took the time to sit down and talk to anyone. I did something that was tragic to my health and now I continuously pay the price for my actions. I became a slave to fast food. Eating was no longer something that I did to live. I lived to eat. Eating at one point became a sport. Many meals I would sit down and eat a large fry from McDonald's, a tray of food from Cook Out and have a large tea from Bojangles. If that wasn't enough, I would make a late night food run to get ice cream, a pint of Queso and I would search the local convenience store for a liter of Strawberry Fanta. The addiction had gotten so bad people would ask questions like "are you pregnant?" I would always get mad because truth of the matter was I wasn't expecting. I was just fat.
    After while, eating was a hobby, However, before I could say enough was enough my body took a rather drastic approach of rebellion. I didn't have to push away from the table. My body pushed me away instead. Over the course of a year I began to get sick. My hands and feet began to look like water inflated hospital gloves. I began to get headaches and my nose would bleed on occasion more blood than was stored at the Red Cross. I began having illusions of things that weren't existent. Truth is, I felt terrible. I looked just as bad as I felt. At some point I had to quit eating because enough was past enough now. 22 years old and 300 pounds, if I didn't die from obesity, surely it would be something else health related. Sadly, my body rejecting food wasn't what made me want to quit eating. One morning, I thought I was having a heart attack. I panicked. Even after I felt better, I wouldn't sleep for awhile because I was afraid that I wouldn't wake up again. That is when I said, "look girl you have to do something". Growing up, my religion spoke heavily on speaking things into existence.For many days and many nights I vowed change. I called unto God saying the following words,

"Lord if you are listening, I am coming to you begging that you have mercy on me and allow me to make positive changes. Allow me to become the woman you want me to be. Erase whatever is plaguing my body. I can no longer live this way. "  

From then on I dedicated myself to make a change for the better. If health wasn't enough, I did it for other reasons. Women were on a binge demonstrating why you should be satisfied with your body. What happens when your self esteem becomes damaged? In the process of losing weight, I learned that it was no longer about living according to societal standards, what about what you want from yourself? I would sometimes stare at my belly's stretch marks and compare them to track marks from a junkie. That's how hideous they were. If that wasn't enough, my arms had more jiggle than jello. I was no longer able to pick up a size 12 jeans and throw them on the counter for purchase. I had to slide away from my parents, boyfriend or whomever and go to the section with the size 22 pants. I went up approximately 5 pants sizes and I was only 22. Happy? No I was a long way from such. 

 I am not discouraging plus sized women, I am only questioning are you really happy with the skin you are in? Last week I read an article about a woman who was "plus sized". However, she wasn't the definition of plus in the world of a Fat Girl .These ladies try to teach you to be self confident but they strut with not one stretch mark visible to the naked eye. The truth is being plus sized is great if that's what you like. True, there are other factors that we cant control such as genetic make up. One thing for certain is that we can control what we eat. 

For a year and a half I was dating the most amazing guy ever. However, my half of the relationship was always subjected to scrutiny from myself. If he ever wanted to go swimming, I never wanted to show my naked stomach. I was embarrassed because he couldn't even lift me off the ground if I wanted a piggy back ride. Who would honestly give a piggy back ride to a pig? While we had developed a close relationship, there were times where I could eat him under the table and wouldn't be shamed. I gained weight and I gained weight but he would never say a damaging word when it came to my appearance. 

After while, I fell into a deep state of depression. Times were so bad, I wouldn't even take pictures and I had to squeeze into everything that I owned.

  Why am I saying this? Somewhere in the world there is a girl like me who is declaring that enough is finally enough. Fat, small, tall or short, only you know what is pleasing to your body. For years I had been vowing to make a change. I come to realize, if I don't make this change now, I may not have years left.

Besides my health and desire to have a family, there is a dream that I hope to fulfill. One day I wish to run around naked without the shames of stretch marks. For some that is odd, but for me that is something that I have never been able to do. So cheers to that girl like me who is ready to make a change. Believe me when I say anything is possible. Big ups to the fat girl. The first step to making a change is changing yourself. Despite the challenge, everything else is bound to fall into place.