Day 1 of 14 . . . Reality Check.

 

I'm fat. There I said it. Not just fat, but my BMI means I'm morbidly obese. 

(gonna go cry in the bathroom be right back) 

It's been a long time coming folks. Seriously. 

I have been chunky my whole life. Always been the girl that loved food. 

But I would have never said Morbidly OBESE! 

I remember the first time someone called me fat. 

I was a Freshman in high school. 

It was new student orientation and 

as if I wasn't scared enough to start a new school, new friends, a whole new life.

I walked into the crowded auditorium and sat down on the bench 

and the stupid jerk-balls at the other end of the bunch jumped up 

and threw themselves off the bench.

As if my 180pounds catapulted them. 

I was mortified. I wanted to die. 

But instead I went home after school that day 

and stuffed my face with McDonald's French Fries.

I went through College and maintained my weight, but still turned to food when things didn't go well. 

If I was sad, I ate a pizza. 

I was happy, I had cheesy fries. 

Post college was a different story. 

I left school early and so I was alone. 

All of my friends were still out a school and most of nights were me, home alone, snacking. 

The pounds went on. 

Then I met hubs. He called me beautiful. He loved me. Adored me. 

Despite my size, shape, or inward feelings. 

We ate pizza together. Ice Cream, amazing Mexican.

The pounds went on.  

We got married, but I still felt loved and adored. 

I couldn't shop at my normal stores but he told me I looked gorgeous.

Despite it all,  at the end of the day, 

no matter how bad I felt about myself. 

He loved me. 

The pounds went on. 

Then I got pregnant. Because I was overweight when I got pregnant 

I had to watch every single bite I took. 

I Managed to only gain 17 pounds my whole pregnancy. 

And when I left the hospital I had acutally lost 20 pounds. 

But anyone with children, knows how difficult those first few years were. 

I was in Texas, missing my family. So I ate. 

I would be up late with feedings, sleepless infant, I ate. 

Husband worked long hours and so . . . I ate dinner alone.... alot.... 

I managed to pack on another 30 pounds and here I am today. 

too emabarrased to share my real weight or measurements. 

I'm on a journey. 

I want to be healthy. 

I want to be the best Mama in town. 

I want to be a good example to son. 

I want another baby. (getting pregnant at this weight, Not an option)

I want to live a long and healthy life. 

I want to feel good about myself. 

I want to be able to shop in every store, not specialty ones! 

So today. Reality sits in. 

I'm sipping on my first of 12 juices. Hoping to cleanse and detox all of the crap I've put in. 

After my 5 day cleanse I start a week of fruits, veggies, and whole grains. 

And in the end . . . .

I don't have a size I want to be

I don't have a number I want to weigh. 

I simply want to feel good. 

Feel healthy. 

And like what I see when I look in the mirror. 

 

 

Adios Mis Amigos,