I came across a meme today that hit home. It featured a larger guy on a surfboard with a caption that read something like, “When you give up on your diet and just say ‘screw it, I’m fat.’” It could have easily been a snapshot of my own life.
Society has its expectations — I’m meant to feel miserable about my weight, sulking on the sidelines while my child runs free, waiting for a moment of revelation in the grocery store when I see a magazine cover and vow to “do better.” I should join a gym, shed the pounds, and become a source of inspiration for others. But whenever I feel the pressure of these societal norms, I can’t help but react defiantly.
So instead, I’ve decided to be a “FATspiration.” Here’s my journey of self-acceptance or whatever self-help jargon you prefer to call it.
My Journey of Self-Acceptance
I didn’t always have this perspective. My realization that I was overweight struck me in third grade. I’m not sure what prompted it — maybe a comment from a classmate or a relative. Regardless, that was the start of my weight-related struggles.
Throughout elementary school, I held onto the hope that I would simply “grow out of it.” In junior high, I was slimmer but still felt inadequate. At 5-foot-2 and weighing around 135 pounds, I was within the normal range, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of not measuring up to the “popular girls.” My dissatisfaction led me to experiment with fasting, fueling my inner critic.
High school brought a rollercoaster of weight fluctuations. I was never content with my appearance but accepted that a bikini was likely out of reach. I was fortunate to attend a small school where bullying was minimal; I had a sharp wit and a self-deprecating humor that likely deterred potential bullies. However, my harshest critic was always my own inner voice.
By graduation, I was in a relationship with my first husband, weighing 165 pounds. I felt out of control and resorted to extreme measures like fasting and diet pills. During my first marriage, my weight became a huge insecurity. I struggled to understand why my husband was physically attracted to me, which negatively impacted my feelings toward intimacy. I went through cycles of dieting, losing weight, gaining it back, and feeling consumed by my weight rather than my life.
After being diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I learned why I couldn’t lose weight easily. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when I severely injured my ankle, leaving me immobile for months. By the time I divorced, I tipped the scales at 250 pounds.
While my weight wasn’t the sole reason for the breakup, I placed a lot of blame on it. I sank into a deep depression, masking my feelings with a smile for others. I was angry with myself for letting it get to that point, consumed by self-hatred.
A Turning Point
A year post-divorce, I embarked on a drastic diet, shedding pounds quickly and receiving compliments that felt intoxicating. I began to receive attention from men, which was thrilling. But was I truly happy? Despite being thinner, my old self-loathing never vanished; it simply found new targets. I worried about not being “skinny enough,” remaining alone, and becoming a lonely cat lady.
Then I met my current husband, and everything changed. Falling in love and building a family brought clarity. The birth of my daughter was a turning point that shifted my priorities. Suddenly, my weight didn’t matter as much as nurturing this new life and supporting my family. I reevaluated what happiness meant and realized that it’s not about a constant state of bliss; challenges will always be present.
Breaking the Cycle of Self-Hatred
So why did I continue the damaging cycle of self-hatred? I considered the impact of my negative self-talk on my daughter. Did I want her to inherit my struggles with self-worth? The answer was a resounding no. I refused to perpetuate the “never good enough” mentality.
I let go of the need to diet, the obsession with finding time for exercise, and the anxiety over my clothing size. I stopped worrying about others’ opinions and guilt over food. I no longer equated my worth with my size. I came to understand that being overweight is not the worst thing I can be.
Does self-doubt still creep in? Of course, it does. Am I completely happy? Not entirely. But I’ve realized that nobody is, regardless of their appearance. I’ve started to appreciate the good things in life that persist, irrespective of the number on the scale. Does this mean I won’t attempt to lose weight in the future? Maybe I will, but for now, that battle is not on my agenda.
There are those who judge me as lazy or undisciplined, claiming I’m a burden on the healthcare system due to my size. I once would have agreed with that sentiment. Now, I revel in the idea that my presence might irk them, and I’ll happily enjoy my cheeseburger while I do it.
Conclusion
In conclusion, embracing my body and rejecting societal pressures have led me to a place of self-acceptance. Recognizing that happiness is multifaceted allows me to focus on what truly matters in life.
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