Describing the misery I have felt over the years being obese should be the easiest to list.  As I am sitting here with my laptop, Ruby, thinking intensely the unnerving pain I living out, my thoughts are being held back because of the pain.

The first and foremost thought that keeps popping into my head is “My kids are embarrassed by the size of their mother.” I can remember thinking especially at my daughter’s age (12) that my parents were freaks.  My father’s “summer wardrobe” of a stained undershirt, cut offs,  black dress socks, and black dress shoes topped off with an old ragged baseball cap still to this day gives me the chills.  Now, no matter how cool I am, my 12yo is probably going to be ashamed of my morbid appearance.  I am not hiding the hideous image of me in a bathing suit from myself anymore.  I don’t blame my daughter in the least to want to sit as far away as possible from her beached whale of a mother.  As hard as it is for me to write these words, and I hope they are as far away from the truth as possible, but I am also quite aware of how other kids talk and my kids will eventually listen.  I just don’t want to fuel the fire because of my body image.

Here recently, I have noticed my children picking up my bad habits.  My son will sit at the computer while watching cartoons and scream, “I’m hungry!” even if he just finished a meal.  He is already associating food and TV.  A terrible habit in which he has seen me do a thousand times.  My daughter rushes through a meal and immediately wants dessert.  She would snack all day if I would let her.  Fortunately she has her father’s metabolism and slim features….. right now.  Both my kids would rather eat a meal of sweets instead of something healthy.  I see myself in my children’s behaviors.  Something they have seen me do and that in itself scares me to death.  It is one thing to kill myself, but another to drag my children down with me.

I couldn’t enjoy the rides with my children at Disney World.  I was too fat to ride most of the rides.  I was constantly comparing my size with those who were getting on or off the rides.  I was more focused on whether or not I was going to fit or if the safety bars were going to lock than on the fun at Disney World.  Why?  Well, at a state fair a few years ago, I got on a ride and the bar couldn’t close because of me.  No matter how hard I sucked it in, it just wouldn’t close.  The embarrassment and the shame when I had to get off the ride leaving my darling kids to ride without Mommy almost killed me.  I wanted to hide my head but holding back the tears and stepping off with my head up high was my only option.  At that moment, I swore off rides only to hide behind my “back” problems.  Someday, I want to go back to Disney and ride every ride there is without the fear of getting stuck or sinking the boat.

I could go on and on about the pain and the embarrassment like having to ask for extensions on the airline seat belts or actually buying swim wear.  The pain is already getting to me as I am writing this right now.  Why torture myself?  I know you are asking that……

I am trying to be honest with myself.  As hard as the truth is, I have to be honest.  And when I am thinking I need to throw in the towel because the weight loss is too hard or if I want to skip a day of exercise, I have something I can go back to read and actually see why it is so important for me to continue going forward with losing weight.

And here is what I want myself to hear:

I am worth it.  My children are worth it.  My future sitting on the front porch with Mark on our matching rockers is worth it.  Dying early because of eating is NOT worth it.

Tearfully….. God bless…..

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