Mo fat Mo problems
Can someone pay me a substantial amount of money so I can write a book about getting fat? I think I have a great story to share. I think I will start drafting my book here so when I get a deal, I will let you all know and maybe share my profit. Or at least buy you something nice.
Chapter One: Who's fault is it?
I don't think I was fat growing up. I was a pretty average sized kid, I wore turquoise booty shorts (not in front of my mother of course) and was fine with it. We weren't too big on eating out because my mom always said that whatever we went out to eat, she could do it at home and make it better. I agree! My mom cooks deliciously!
But one thing in our house was that all food served to us or by us, for us, was to be eaten all. If you decide you want a gigantic bowl of cereal or 4 pieces of chicken, you best believe you are eating it all in one sitting if not, you will get a beatdown (from my dad) or get a guilt trip (from my mom). No excuses, no "ohhh, I'm feeling sick". NOOOO. You eat your food or die. That's how I felt about it. I always ate my food, I felt bad for my sister because she was naturally skinny and didn't have a voracious appetite like yours truly, so whenever she couldn't finish her food, I'd take over. Sometimes we threw it away without my mom knowing but 8 out of 10 times, I'd eat it. I'd like to say that is what contributed to my fatness.... but it's not my sister's fault.
Once I became a teenager, I was not overweight, again average weight, yea I had a big butt and big boobs but that's my grandmother's genes. I wasn't round. But according to my mom and dad, I was fat. We were very outdoorsy, I remember many saturdays spent at the park or riding bikes, swimming, baseball... etc. So I know that if it weren't for all those activities I could have become fat but I didn't. Which is what my parents meant to say... You can get fat. But no, I think they thought that they could scare me by saying oh you're fat, now do something about it. Well well well, I had something else planned, my personality was not fueled by their acceptance or others. I was very content to how I was and just blew off any kind of remarks they had about my weight. Yea it hurt to hear from time to time but I can't really blame them for that. I was the first child, all the mistakes were made on me. I know that if they had a re-do, I'd be brought up totally different. I would just hope I'd still have my fabulous personality!
Now I'm fat. I know I'm fat. No one has to tell me I'm fat. I accept the fact that I'm fat. And its my fault. All my fault, not my mom or dad or sister or the poor children in Africa or El Salvador. Its me. Its the fact that I didn't know when to stop eating and neglected to do any physcial activity. I knew about the Freshmen 15 and welcomed it with open arms and proceeded to welcome about 70 more too. (over the course of 8 years). I have decided a long time ago that I need to stop the process. Because seriously its not even about fat anymore, its about health. I don't want diabetes. I don't want a heart condition. And I love my life, so I need to start acting upon my decision.
Chapter 2: Actions speak louder then words... To be continued.
Chapter One: Who's fault is it?
I don't think I was fat growing up. I was a pretty average sized kid, I wore turquoise booty shorts (not in front of my mother of course) and was fine with it. We weren't too big on eating out because my mom always said that whatever we went out to eat, she could do it at home and make it better. I agree! My mom cooks deliciously!
But one thing in our house was that all food served to us or by us, for us, was to be eaten all. If you decide you want a gigantic bowl of cereal or 4 pieces of chicken, you best believe you are eating it all in one sitting if not, you will get a beatdown (from my dad) or get a guilt trip (from my mom). No excuses, no "ohhh, I'm feeling sick". NOOOO. You eat your food or die. That's how I felt about it. I always ate my food, I felt bad for my sister because she was naturally skinny and didn't have a voracious appetite like yours truly, so whenever she couldn't finish her food, I'd take over. Sometimes we threw it away without my mom knowing but 8 out of 10 times, I'd eat it. I'd like to say that is what contributed to my fatness.... but it's not my sister's fault.
Once I became a teenager, I was not overweight, again average weight, yea I had a big butt and big boobs but that's my grandmother's genes. I wasn't round. But according to my mom and dad, I was fat. We were very outdoorsy, I remember many saturdays spent at the park or riding bikes, swimming, baseball... etc. So I know that if it weren't for all those activities I could have become fat but I didn't. Which is what my parents meant to say... You can get fat. But no, I think they thought that they could scare me by saying oh you're fat, now do something about it. Well well well, I had something else planned, my personality was not fueled by their acceptance or others. I was very content to how I was and just blew off any kind of remarks they had about my weight. Yea it hurt to hear from time to time but I can't really blame them for that. I was the first child, all the mistakes were made on me. I know that if they had a re-do, I'd be brought up totally different. I would just hope I'd still have my fabulous personality!
Now I'm fat. I know I'm fat. No one has to tell me I'm fat. I accept the fact that I'm fat. And its my fault. All my fault, not my mom or dad or sister or the poor children in Africa or El Salvador. Its me. Its the fact that I didn't know when to stop eating and neglected to do any physcial activity. I knew about the Freshmen 15 and welcomed it with open arms and proceeded to welcome about 70 more too. (over the course of 8 years). I have decided a long time ago that I need to stop the process. Because seriously its not even about fat anymore, its about health. I don't want diabetes. I don't want a heart condition. And I love my life, so I need to start acting upon my decision.
Chapter 2: Actions speak louder then words... To be continued.
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