I'm a short girl, 4'11" to be exact. I don't have a whole lot of room on my body to store fat without it being very noticeable. Now, mind you, I've never been a skinny girl at any point in my life past the age of 11. The thing is, is that I never cared if I was the "chunky one" or the "fat girl". My mentality was always, "if you don't like it, don't look".
When I met my husband, he liked girls with big bootays and meat on their bones and boy did I have a lot of junk in my trunk! Baby got back! Yeah, that was me.
When I got pregnant with my son, in 2001, I only gained 13 lbs. It was water weight and actually, I went home from the hospital weighing less than I had the day it was confirmed that I was pregnant. The Dr recommended that I not gain a whole lot of weight because my body couldn't handle carrying around much more weight. After having him, I pretty much maintained my weight of almost *gasp* 190 lbs.
Fast forward to late 2009. Two tragic events occurred back to back.
1. November 12, 2009 My husband, the sole bread winner of our family, was tragically shot while he was working. He was repossessing a car (which he had done for over 20 years) and he and his partner were shot. Unfortunately, his partner was shot point blank in the heart and didn't make it. Only God knows why and how my husband made it through without succumbing to his injuries. This would be why I call him Superman. He survived bullets!!!
2. Two days after my husband was shot, my step-dad fell ill. He passed away shortly there after in early January 2010
Those two tragic events caused me to eat my feelings. We were left without an income and I had lost one of the most important people in my life. It was up to me to make the money for us to survive because not only was my husband physically unable, he was extremely mentally unable. At that point, I hadn't worked in 9 years. I did what I had to do and tried my best to make money. Once Superman was able, he did what he could. After being unable to work for nearly three years, in June of 2012 he went back to work.
For the better part of those three years, I ate every feeling I had. I gained FORTY POUNDS.
This would be me and my BFF. I was tipping the scale at 230 lbs.
I am ashamed to admit that. How could I carry 230 lbs around on a 4'11" frame?? My feet killed me every single day. When I got up in the morning, I could barely walk because they hurt so bad. My knees hurt, my back hurt and I could feel my blood pressure was out of control. But that wasn't enough for me to want to lose weight.
My ahh haa moment came one morning in April 2012 when I was getting in the car to take my kids to school and my heart was racing and I could hardly breathe. I thought to myself, "holy shit! I have got to lose weight before I DIE". I realized that I was slowly killing myself. The only physical activity I had done was walk out my front door and got in my car and I was out of breath and my heart was racing. I could feel my heart beat in my forehead and in my neck. I knew I had to do something. I was scared.
I really didn't know where to start. I had never tried to lose weight ever in my life. I didn't really care that I was a fat girl but at that moment, I knew something had to be done before the fat killed me.
The date was April 11, 2012. I started counting calories, only drinking water and walking around the block in my neighborhood. I measured the distance and figured out that 4 trips around was a mile. I tried to walk longer distances than the day before, each day. I walked every single day and then started to run the straight stretches until eventually I could run the entire thing. The weight was melting off of me. I had not done much physical activity since I was in high school so I lost 50 lbs pretty quickly. By August of 2012, I had lost 50 lbs and was starting to struggle with getting any more off.
After losing 50 lbs. I could kick myself at this point because I didn't take any real "before" photos.
Since August, I have lost sixteen more pounds. I've struggled with each pound I've lost. If I couldn't lose any, I was just thankful for maintaining what I'd lost instead of eating my feelings and gaining any back. A total of 66 WHOLE POUNDS. I seriously can't believe it. I am so proud of myself. My husband is proud of me, my parents are proud of me, and most importantly, my son tells me on almost a daily basis how pretty I am.
The most recent comparison photo.
When I look in the mirror, I can't believe what I see. I still see the image on the left on most days. I still have more to lose and I won't give up now. Losing weight is a constant battle, but a battle that is so worth fighting.