present participle of gain (Verb)
Obtain or secure (something desired, favorable, or profitable): “gain confidence”.
Reach or arrive at (a desired destination): “we gained the ridge”.
I am at my all time heaviest weight.
Those words are hard to get out. Mostly, because I don’t understand how I got there. I have not binged regularly for over
18 months two years. I move more. I sleep better. Drink more water. Eat less salt. I am getting married in just over 10 months. What happened here? Am I not doing as well as I thought? These questions keep looping around in my mind like a broken record. I do not feel ok within myself. I feel tired, and sluggish, and all out of sorts. I know that weight does not define my worth – this is not about that. Not… It’s not so much the weight, but what it represents.
I have gone through my whole life thinking that I was always fat. Ok, that’s not quite true. I don’t remember anyone mentioning my weight before I was 8 years old. I went through puberty way early – before any of my friends had even learnt what the word meant – and the teasing began when I started developing breasts and a ‘womanly figure’ (whatever the hell that is?). They called me fat, and I believed them, because no one was telling me otherwise. Because I knew I wasn’t ‘skinny’. Because I looked at baby photos and saw all the rolls. Because I couldn’t run as fast or as far as the others. Because I didn’t really understand what was happening to my body. And it continued, all through out high school – fat, fat FAT!
The crazy thing is this: I was average weight for my height until I was 16, even accounting for my huge breasts (not boasting, and unopposed hormones are horrible!) The year I turned 16 was also the year that I was raped. He was charming, and older, and he told me I was beautiful (but, apparently, not ‘hot’). And I was desperate for his attention. Not because my family didn’t care – they care about me so much – but because words are my love language, and he had all the words no one else was saying. He promised to marry me, that he’d always love me…and then he broke me. And I crawled out, feeling empty and hollow, and knowing that I never wanted that to happen again. And so I ate, and ate, and ate until I disappeared…became ‘invisible’.
This Story Does Not End Here.
check in tomorrow for part two