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I was teased and tormented endlessly at school because of my weight.  I felt so trapped.  Everywhere I went; there was this solid brick wall.  I remember trying to talk to my mom about it and she made it sound like it was *my* problem.  I mean, it was my problem.  But what I needed from her, I so seldom ever got.  Once, I remember crying to her that I felt chastised at home and chastised at school for my weight.  If my own family couldn’t love me for who I was, then how could *I* love me?

She apologized at that time and told me that she was doing this because she loved me.  Because she had problems with her weight when she was young and doesn’t want me to have to experience that so she pushes me.  I know now that it came from a good place.  But I also know that she had weight problems when she was younger because my grandpa (her dad) was an alcoholic.  Food was her way of dealing with that.  I didn’t know that then, but over the past two years, I have pieced that together.

Aside from eating, I had two other forms of escape:  reading and acting.  I was a really good actress.  I got the lead parts in all of the school plays and felt comfortable placing myself in someone else’s shoes.  Actually, it was a relief to be able to put myself into someone else’s shoes.

I read books like my life depended on it.  What a treat to escape into a good book.  To this day, I can finish off a novel in a couple of days (if I have uninterrupted time that is).

Through all of the turmoil, my family and I actually came out stronger.  They love me and I love them.  But I was faced with so much responsibility and so much “adult” emotion; at a young age, my little mind just couldn’t compute all of that adequately.   I think I developed my own survival mode, albeit unhealthy.  My parents by example were couch potatoes.  I didn’t have a really good role model for that.  And whenever my mom would have me go on a diet, I always felt that it was something that was done *to me*.  I felt singled out.  No one else had to give up the food they loved, but I did.  We never did it as a family.  And so in that way, I felt like I was the one being chastised.  I felt imperfect and broken.

Therein lays my need to control.  Life felt so out of control at various times, that I controlled it by eating whatever I wanted.  And I felt that if I tuned in to other people’s emotions enough, then I could stop something bad from happening or stop myself from being hurt.  The “tuning in to people’s emotions” part started when  I actually felt like I repaired my parent’s marriage when I told my dad that my mom was seeing some other guy (they were separated at the time and I was 6).

Okay, so now i’m bringing this all up to date in the present.

In the present, I have three young children and I am married.  Because I am also a stay-at-home mom, I am responsible for the kids and the house 99% of the time.  All of these are things *I* chose.  But… to some weird degree, I think I had a hard time realizing that I was the one in control.

My dad used to say that he and my mom were the big chiefs and we were just the little Indians.

And I now know why it was easy to lose weight when I was completely on my own.  It’s because *I* was the one in control.  I love being married but I think a part of me thought that marriage meant that I had to give up the control to my husband and to the inlaws.  Now, I know that I don’t have to do that and that I *shouldn’t* do that.

Because now i’m a big chief.  And this weight loss thing?  This is something I am doing for myself.  It is not something that is being done to me.  I can clearly see the benefits.  And this will allow me to be a good role model for my children.  I am trying to make it so that they see and reap the benefits of all of these changes now so that they don’t have to struggle the way I did.  And if they do struggle?  Then i’m not going to put them on a diet.

Because we will do it together as a family.

The last couple of years have been somewhat emotionally rough for me. I found myself so often delving into the past. I was trying to decode the ever present question of “why”. Why do I eat? Why can’t I just be happy most of the time? Why do I feel zapped of energy? Why can’t I just get my fat behind off of the couch and get moving? From September of 2007 to November of 2009, I had many failed attempts to lose weight. I mean, I would have lost weight if I stuck with the program (any program) but I just couldn’t stay focused for very long. There always seemed to be an excuse on the horizon of why I should give up. Many times, I would allow myself to fall completely off of the wagon just so that I could enjoy events that involved food. Because a part of me felt that I couldn’t enjoy them if I couldn’t fill my stomach to my heart’s desire at said events.

As i’ve gotten older, I recognize that I have control issues. In other words, for the longest time I felt the only thing in my control was the food I ate. It was the one area in my life where I felt I had complete control and a complete say-so. You see, for the longest time up until I started this journey, I was very comfortable giving away my personal power. I did it because I wanted to be liked. And I felt that in order for people to accept me, I had to dumb myself down and diffuse certain parts of myself to make *them* feel more comfortable. Subconsciously I figured that as long as I could eat what I wanted, then it was okay.

I started this vicious circle a long time ago. My parents were very authoritative. I lived in a very controlled environment. At least, from the perspective of what I was allowed to do and what I wasn’t. Both worked very hard and long hours at that. So, often times I stepped in and took over all of the domestic stuff. I was practically a second mom to my brothers. All of this started when I was 9. I remember my mom leaving for work and giving me large laundry lists of chores. I was responsible for cleaning up after 6 people including myself. I remember feeling overwhelmed. So much to the point that sometimes I didn’t get it done or I did it half-assed. And when that happened, she became angry and usually I got grounded. The funny thing is, much of my adolescence I felt held back and “grounded”. I wasn’t like normal girls my age. I felt like I came with baggage (three kids and a house to take care of).

I grew up poor. My parents worked very hard but for a time, we had very little. I remember being treated like an adult when it came to taking on extra responsibilities, but treated very much like a child when it came to my own needs and wants. And I felt forever selfish for having needs and wants. So I ate those feelings.

My mom became very concerned about my weight around the age of 11. She was forever nagging me to go on a diet. She said…. “Do you want to be big as a house?” That was when I started “sneak-eating”. And also at the same time found that I quite enjoyed eating alone because there was no one there to comment on it.  She was constantly on the prowl for diets that work for me. I felt so alone.

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