Let me share a personal story with you. This woman, the one on the left, that’s me—five years ago, after having three children. The photo was taken at a serene lake, just two months shy of my 35th birthday. At that moment, I had achieved my smallest size since I was a teenager. I even went to J. Crew to buy some khaki pants, asking for a size 8, only to be told by a kind associate that I looked more like a size 4. Despite her compliment, I insisted on trying the 8, which ended up falling right off me. I weighed only 123 pounds, the lightest I’d been since I was 15. Yet, when I looked at that photo, I felt fat.
Fast Forward to Now
Here’s a more recent picture of me, taken just two months ago, four months after I turned 40, surrounded by my five kids. In this image, I proudly embody what it means to be a mother.
Over the years, my weight has fluctuated dramatically—up and down like a rollercoaster, and let me tell you, it’s been a wild ride. This is the reality of navigating through the highs and lows of pregnancy, breastfeeding, nursing school, and the pressure of exercise, both loved and loathed.
The Cost of Thinness
The fit body you see in the “before” shot came at a cost. I lost that weight through extreme measures: consuming a mere 1,000 calories daily, running 35 miles a week, and sacrificing sleep. I meticulously tracked everything I ate and pushed my body to its limits. But despite all that effort, I looked in the mirror and felt anything but satisfied.
You might be wondering where I’m going with this. I can guess some reactions you might have. Perhaps you think, “Wow, you looked amazing! What happened?” Or maybe you wonder, “How did you end up weighing that much?” Some may even question why I look different in the after picture. Spoiler alert: it’s not as simple as it seems.
Redefining Beauty
Some will call me fat. Others may see happiness and health in my current self. I am both. And I want to challenge the stereotype that equates thinness with happiness. The truth is, being thin didn’t bring me joy. Sure, it made shopping easier and drew attention from others, but it also led to an unhealthy obsession with my appearance and workouts.
Thinness doesn’t guarantee happiness, just as being overweight doesn’t equate to sadness. I’ve been thinking about writing this for weeks, and then I came across a piece by Sarah James that finally inspired me to share my truth. We need more voices to drown out the incessant noise of the diet industry, which thrives on our insecurities.
A Shift in Mindset
Since that last picture was taken, my medication for bipolar disorder has led to a weight gain of 10 pounds. Clothes that once fit now feel tight, and I won’t pretend that’s enjoyable. But the shift in my mindset has been profound. I find peace, joy, and contentment I never knew before. Those 10 pounds are trivial compared to the happiness I’ve discovered in simply being present with my kids and prioritizing self-care.
Embrace Your Truth
So here’s a radical thought: embrace being happy and fat. Wear that bikini with pride. Indulge in the pizza and ice cream without guilt. Live your life fully, and don’t apologize for it. The world wants you to chase the illusion of thinness, but that’s a trap. It’s time to break free from that notion and redefine what it means to be beautiful.
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Conclusion
In summary, my journey has taught me that happiness and self-acceptance matter far more than a number on a scale. You can be both fat and happy, and it’s time we start celebrating that truth.