While No One was Looking . . .

Kindergarten MJ

Everything made sense in my life at this age. Every day was the same, and so were the people around. Occasionally, my mom would attempt to introduce me to new environments, with varied results. What I remember about my life at this time, was all positive. I don’t think I understood any negative things in the world. I just wanted my rabbit (security blanket) and my Mommy. This was a Happy Ass Lil’ Girl. Everyone used to tell me how smart and pretty i was. I was always the teacher’s pet. I was friends with everyone I encountered, because I presented well. I was a very articulate, polite, well put together, petite little girl. I didn’t understand that any of the “isms” even existed.

Middle School MJ

My grandfather introduced me to Pork the summer before 6th grade.  I know that sounds random, but most girls in my family can tell you when they started gaining weight.  I spent that summer with my father in Pittsburgh, and it was spent at my grandfather’s house. He had a freezer full of food in the basement, and every night he would cook some kind of greasy ass meat.  Joyce didn’t cook like that, we had baked chicken every night.  My grandfather would let me eat any and everything while I was there.  I gained so much weight that summer my cousins in Detroit didn’t even recognize me.  I wasn’t ashamed of my weight, I just saw that people looked at me differently.

College MJ (I looked like an Auntie)

By the time I got to college, I was used to being fat. I was used to being the fattest person in the room, and used to chairs being uncomfortable.  I still lived my life. Just slower than most people.  I went to parties and danced my ass off.  I made friends of all sizes, but my main ones were smaller than me. I started hating going to the mall with them tho.  Because we didn’t shop in the same stores.  When I was with them, the staff in those stores looked at me like I was beneath them.  Because I was fat. So I stopped shopping for clothes.  Everything came from Lane Bryant anyway.  I had brief moments of “Feeling Myself” but it was mostly because all my friends were gay men Junior/Senior year and they made me stop wearing turtlenecks even in the summer. I started wearing colors other than blue and green. I started buying sexy bras and showing off my chest.  It wasn’t all the time, I grew into my body.  I stopped thinking it was this thing, and realized I could control how I felt about it.

Post College MJ

I lost my virginity at 26 years old.  This matters.  Boys in college weren’t checking for the Big Girls, they just weren’t.  It was already weird I was a virgin in college, the conversations were just so damn awkward after college.  A Grown Ass Man, 11 years older than me, was the first person I slept with.  It was the 1st time I had felt pretty in a long time.  Desired or wanted. It was a one time experience, but it gave me hope.

I was just gone have to find more men who knew I was fly regardless of my size.  That was the goal.  I started trying to be cute on purpose.  I wasn’t trying to lose weight, just look better in the clothes I had on. Then I went to a conference in 2009, and meet the most beautiful BIg Girls.  They were well dressed, wore makeup, and looked GOOD. There was no shame in their game, they knew they looked good and were HAPPY being Big. What if I didn’t let my weight make me sad? What if I stopped thinking I could only be loved by men who liked BIg Girls?  What if, I just lived my life?

2012 MJ

This is me at my heaviest and Happiest (until now).  I was in all types of love.  I worked from home, and lived a homemaker’s existence.  That man would never love me back tho, because I couldn’t keep up with him. I couldn’t dance at the same speed he could, I couldn’t join him for a quick run in the morning.  I could barely walk our dog. When we broke up, I wasn’t surprised.  A large part of me felt like I wasn’t good enough for him anyway.  Because I was Fat.  So I came up with a plan.

It felt like my weight kept me from being happy for the last time!  I worked out every day for 8 months after we broke up.  It was the first time I’d ever made an effort to lose weight.  I lost it to prove him wrong.  To show him I was attractive, and cute, and worthy of his love. Thank God I finally realized he was just an asshole. I think I was a Size 20 at my smallest back then.  I lost the weight, but I didn’t learn anything from it.  So I gained it all back, and more.

2017 MJ

In July of 2017, my mom was diagnosed with cancer for the 2nd time. I was 2000 miles away, and unable to travel freely because of my job/finances. I stopped eating.  It wasn’t a conscious choice, it’s just how my depression choose to manifest itself.  Before I knew it, I’d lost about 20lbs.  People were telling me how good I looked, and asking me my secret.  When I answered, “Depression,” they didn’t quite know how to take it.  Before I took 2 months off work to come back home and see about my mom, my therapist said to me, “What if you actually made the effort to keep losing weight?” It was a simple question, but the answer changed my life.

I had stopped making an effort to do anything.  Because my weight was a burden.  I stopped going to public events, because I didn’t want to have an issue with the seats/bleachers.  My body was my depression manifested.  I got to Michigan, joined a gym, and worked out for 2 hours every day. I lost an additional 30 lbs in the 1st month.  I made an effort, and I didn’t let myself make excuses.  I held myself accountable, and let others do it as well.

I figured out so much shit, released so many traumas that were attached to my size/weight/body along the way.  3 weeks ago, I bought a pair of pants at were a 14/16.  My original goal was to be a size 18 jean, so I can buy jeans at Walmart. [Because cheap}

While no one was looking, I lost a whole person. 

While no one was looking, I figured myself out.  I found out who I loved, and why I loved them.  I see this new girl in the mirror, and she’s so damn cute. I was so used to looking one way . . . I didn’t even notice when I stopped looking that way.  It’s only when I put on clothes that used to fit I realize how much I’ve changed.

I’m this . . . sexy girl, with a Phat Ass, and everything is real.  Imma BAAAAAAAAAAAAAD BITCH, and proud of it.  I can walk up stairs without running out of breath. I can park at the end of the parking lot and not be sweating by the time I get to the door of Target. I don’t have to ask for a seat belt extender on a plane. People don’t move over if I sit next to them.

Society sucks.  The fact that fat people aren’t accepted as “normal” is bullshit.  People who never used to pay attention to me, talk to me all the time. I’ve lost friends because of this weight loss. I’ve also gained relationships I wouldn’t trade for anything.  My size has been part of me my whole life. It’s not anymore.

While No One Was Looking, I became the best version of myself.

You’re Welcome.

 

 

Dear Depression……Thanks

I need to take a few minutes to talk about one of the benefits of MY depression. I talk all the time, about how Depression has seemingly taken over my adulthood. It makes things HARDER to accomplish. In order to be fair, I must now share the good sides of Depression. So without further ado, I present…..Thanks Depression!

I’ve lost 30lbs since July of last year. I went from 363.2 to today’s current weight of 334.8lbs. I can write those weights with pride, as it’s the smallest I’ve ever been (since I started actually weighing myself). The only time in my life I lost weight like this, was when I was working at the Tucson JCC. I was working out 5 days a week (for at least 40 mins), and eating kosher.

Which is why I have to say, Thank You Depression!

Because I just stopped eating food. That’s how I’m losing this weight. I have no appetite, at all. I forget to eat during the day, and I barely eat at home. When I do eat, the portions are so small it’s like being on a diet. 9 times out of 10, I always end up feeding the rest to my dog.

I’ve been dealing with my mom’s health issues and living 2309 miles away, so food intake has been the least of my worries.

People come up to me, and ask my diet plan. Usually, I lie. Cuz it’s kind of weird to be like, “Worry about your mom on an hourly basis! The pounds will just melt away!” I feel like, that wouldn’t go over that well.

FitBit reminded me today, I’m just 9lbs away from the initial goal I set for myself 3 years ago. I got a lil bit happy, knowing that goal is on the horizon. Then, I got sad again. Because I know I’ll make that goal. And it’s not because I’m doing it on purpose. It’s because I’m so stressed out about other things in life, I won’t be focused enough to try to stay at this weight. Depression is still there, I haven’t figured out how to get rid of it…..yet.

I sometimes miss when food was my happy place. I miss being able to eat my feelings. Because when you can just eat them, you don’t have to process them. You don’t have to sit with them, rolling around in your head all fucking day.

When you can eat your feelings, you also end up weighing 378lbs at 30. So clearly that wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism. But as I looking at the numbers getting smaller and smaller on the scale, my new fear is that once I’m back in Michigan, the weight just comes back.

So I’m planning already, how to keep this going. Joining Lifetime Fitness again, and cooking healthy food. Actually going for walks on the trail behind my mom’s house. Maybe I can get to my ultimate weight Goal, size 18 on the bottom, and a 14/16 on Top. The numbers never mattered to me, the way my clothes fit did. And 2 weeks ago, I bought a pair of size 24 jeans….and they are already too big now.

Thank You Depression, for being a catalyst to a lifestyle change I needed. I wasn’t gonna do it myself, so I appreciate the help 😁.

Dear Skinny Stranger Bitch . . . You Don’t Know My Story

*If I was your teacher in your youth, I’m sorry you had to read these harsh words   If I taught your child, I’m sorry you had to see these harsh words.  But, they must be said.*

I went to church today.  My wonderful Pastor was talking about “Breaking Out of Your Rut” in life.  Evidently during my gallivanting (Defn: to go about in search of pleasure) last weekend, I missed part one.

Today’s sermon focused on the last 3 steps to escaping your Rut. The point we are discussing, indeed the catalyst for this rant was Exercise Your Body.  His main point during the sermon was, Movement of your body inspires you to do more in your everyday life.  My rant, however, is not about my Pastor’s words.  It’s about a complete stranger’s way of dealing with them.

Episode #1: As my Pastor is talking, he says, “Now say to your Neighbor, Movement is Good.” My Neighbor to my left says, “You should really listen to what he is saying.”

Who Bitch What?!?!?!?

I didn’t say anything, because I knew that if I punched this random Skinny Stranger Bitch in her fucking face, I would probably be asked to leave.  So I just said Amen, and went back to listening to my Pastor.

Episode #2: My Pastor stated something to the effect of, “Y0ur homework for this week is to get up and move.  Walk 15 minutes.” The Skinny Stranger Bitch then gave me the  Holy Helpful Stranger arm rub and said, ‘Now I know it’s hard for you to lose all that weight.  But you have to try.”

Who. Bitch. What?!?!?!?!?

Episode #3: My Pastor then stated something to the effect of, Movement will make you feel better about yourself. Again with the Holy Helpful Stranger Arm Rub, “I have a niece that’s bi— Full Figured like you, and I tell her all the time, You have to try.”

Mother. Fuck.

First of all, stop touching me heaux, I don’t know you like that.  Second of all, all fat people are not the same.  Third, my thighs touching is not an indicator  I Hate My Life.  You Don’t Know My Story.  You don’t know SHIT about me.  You look at me and see a Fat Girl. And that, is the Mother. Fucking. Problem.

I have never met this woman in my life.  She doesn’t know that I’ve lost 60lbs in the last 13 months, and I am working toward losing another 30 before June.  But HOW DARE YOU . . . My Fat is not your business.  Even if I was 600lbs, you don’t have the right to give me advice about what to do with my body.  You have enough room on the bench, my fat is not touching you – so kindly Shut The Fuck Up.

I think her compulsion to save me is actually part of a bigger issue – that is,  the need to help those we deem less fortunate than us.  Of course this assessment of need is based solely on outward physical appearance.

I call what she did Skinny Bitch Privilege.   The Skinny Bitch feels they are the media’s (read: the USA Media) representation of ‘Beauty,” so this means they have the right to ‘help’ people get like them.  They ASSUME anyone who isn’t like them, just hasn’t had the right motivation to Get Like Them. Their Mindset seems to be, “Oh Woe is You.  Please allow me to help you on your journey to being a better person.”

Fat DOES NOT EQUAL Unhappy/Sick/Lazy. If there is one constant annoyance in these past 13 months, it has been the perception/assumption that my weight loss happened because I was finally tired of being fat.  It didn’t.  It happened because someone told me I couldn’t do it.  A 60 day challenge turned into a lifestyle change.

Do I feel better now that I’ve lost weight? Yes.  Do I have more energy? Yes. Do rainbows now fly out of my soul every time I work out? No.  Do I know feel complete and whole? NO.  I wasn’t miserable at 378lbs. I’m not ridiculously happy at 318lbs. But however I feel about my body, you will NEVER have the right to tell me your opinion about it.

Listen Skinny Bitch, I’m good.  I eat what I want, I don’t suffer from any sort of guilt/shame about my size.  I’m a grown ass woman.  I like food I know isn’t good for me, and if I feel like it, Imma eat that shit! I don’t need your help or your Pity.

Please, go on with your eating of Salad, I eat that too. Continue to prosper as you use the elliptical to get an ass that looks like mine. Further your journey into the land of Thighs Don’t Touch, I hear it’s cold and dry there . . . but that might just be a rumor.

You might not agree with my thoughts, that’s totally fine.  But thank you for reading, feel free to comment/express your opinion. As long as it’s not about my body 🙂