Well, I am wearing my fat pants today. This is what I get for moving cross-country and being happy. I know that sounds weird, but happiness equals pounds for me. Ever since I was a teenager, if I was miserable, I was thinner and when life was good, I gained more curves than I'd like to admit to. But admitting it is exactly what I am doing today. Because if I talk about it, I can deal with it better. When I was about 17, I lost control of my life and in response, lost about 25 pounds in three months and didn't even realize it. The day I found out just how much weight I had lost happened because my mom thought I was using drugs. After the clean test came back, she was just baffled by my behaviors, emotional state, and weight loss. I was angry at her and marched into her bathroom and stepped onto her scale. The last time I had used that scale three months earlier, I weighed in at 148 pounds and that day it said 122. I was floored. When I looked in a mirror, I saw the same LaNae I had seen three months earlier, but now with that knowledge, I saw something completely different. I saw a protruding clavical and hip bones with no padding left on them. I saw a stomache that was sunken in and a head that looked to big for the body supporting it. I thought back on the hair that had been falling out of my head and how confused I was about it. When that summer ended, I walked into my senior year swimming in my same clothes I had worn the year before. I got in trouble because they didn't fit right and kept falling down. When I got new clothes, I was a size 7 from my previous 12. I was so small that all the pants were high waters in order to fit at the top. I lost a full cup size. And all of this happened without my knowledge. Unfortunately, once I realized it I became obsessed with keeping at that size and getting even smaller. It was a tough time and I used my frustration to withhold health from myself. I had straight A's and was in multiple extra curricular activities and somehow kept moving even when my insides felt like they were collapsing from within me.
The turning point was when I moved in with the L family. R helped me find happiness and had an endless supply of cookies and home cooked meals and it worked miracles. Over time, I gained weight back but would always be aware of what went into my mouth to the point of feeling imprisoned by it. My pregnancy with M changed everything. Once I had her to take care of, I felt this freedom to enjoy food and eat lots and lots of it. It was life altering for me because once I had each of my babies, I no longer had the solution of withholding food. I wanted better for them, so I chose to be better as their role model. I learned how to eat healthy quantities through weight watchers and I exercised. I would take a dance class or jump into a pool and swim my heart out. I even found the Couch to 5k program and decided that I would run a 5k. It worked wonders for me. After each of my children, I weighed about 175 pounds. After M I had gained 50 pounds by delivery day and I stayed heavy until getting pregnant with G. During my pregnancy, I made healthy eating choices so that I wouldn't make matters worse on myself for after she was born and I only gained 30 pounds total. I nursed G the longest of all my children and I also decided I was not feeling the whole being overweight gig anymore so I started exercising and got down to 160 when the news hit that I was expecting E. I gained 40 with her and after she was born, I started Weight Watchers, ballet class, and swimming. I weighed 150 the day I got the test results showing I was pregnant with Z. So, off I went and I gained about 40 that time knowing that it was okay no matter how much I gained because once he was born and weened, my body would officially belong to me for good.
After Z, I have done pretty darn well. I did weight watchers again and after being inspired by the show "The Biggest Loser", decided I wanted to go for it and train to run a 5k. I started my training and got down to 150 again and then we moved to San Diego and I sort of just stopped in my tracks and simply waded where I was at. I wasn't particularly staying at 150, but I wasn't exceeding 155 and when I started work, that little bit of extra shed off simply because I was more active. More importantly, I was miserable. Seriously unhappy after maybe the first few months because my family seemed to be falling apart around and within me. I sort of just stayed suspended in that place and so did my weight. Then we moved here and I suddenly felt as if about a ton of weight and stress had been removed from my shoulders and heart. I became happy and content and everything sort of felt like a vacation of sorts and I started eating like it was one... I have gained 7 pounds since moving here. 7 darn Happy Nae pounds and I am not that upset. Because I already know what to do, how to do it, and that I have succeeded in the past doing it. Sure, I am sitting in my fat work pants today and I am frustrated with myself for letting it happen, but I feel like it is a blessing in fat pants disguise because for the first time in almost a year, I feel alive inside with the desire to take care of myself again. I have drive and enthusiasm and I am looking forward to when I get to where I am heading. On Labor Day, I will be suiting up and participating in my very first 5k and I couldn't be more excited about it. I am no longer a miserable me, I am happy and I am going to make happy mean healthy instead of heavy. Here I come Labor Day and happy Nae!
