Me, 130 Pounds Ago.
See that girl in the purple dress over there? That's me, well okay, that WAS me. My name's Bethany and that picture is of the girl that I use to be 3 years ago, when I weighed 315 pounds.I've gone from absolutely despising even the thought of going to the gym or eating a vegetable, to now not eating any red meat, tons of fresh leafy greens, and going to the gym for an hour each day.
I have done a complete 180 in my life, and I know that there are thousands of people who are exactly how I use to be. Being a thin person trapped inside a morbidly obese body can give you all sorts of problems, and I'm not just talking physically. I had severe mental issues such as phobias and panic attacks, but worse than anything, I had an extreme hatred for who I was. I didn't like myself and I felt like I didn't have any place in the world, and really, that I didn't deserve one. No one deserves to feel like that, and I know that if I could help just ONE person change their lives around like I did, then I'll know that I made a huge difference in the world.
On my journey back to health I have had to educate myself on many different things, and if I could do it, then I know that anyone can. Really I didn't even know how much I was learning, but little by little I became extremely educated on calorie content, proper nutrition, different kinds of good/bad fats, trans fat (eek!), hormones, etc etc. All of these things can be very easily learned by anyone, yet when we don't care for ourselves enough to search for the answers to our problems, then we won't accomplish anything. That's why I made this blog. I want to share what I've learned and hopefully the people who are sitting out there will take the first step and find this blog in their search for answers on how to better their lifestyle.
I have done a complete 180 in my life, and I know that there are thousands of people who are exactly how I use to be. Being a thin person trapped inside a morbidly obese body can give you all sorts of problems, and I'm not just talking physically. I had severe mental issues such as phobias and panic attacks, but worse than anything, I had an extreme hatred for who I was. I didn't like myself and I felt like I didn't have any place in the world, and really, that I didn't deserve one. No one deserves to feel like that, and I know that if I could help just ONE person change their lives around like I did, then I'll know that I made a huge difference in the world.
On my journey back to health I have had to educate myself on many different things, and if I could do it, then I know that anyone can. Really I didn't even know how much I was learning, but little by little I became extremely educated on calorie content, proper nutrition, different kinds of good/bad fats, trans fat (eek!), hormones, etc etc. All of these things can be very easily learned by anyone, yet when we don't care for ourselves enough to search for the answers to our problems, then we won't accomplish anything. That's why I made this blog. I want to share what I've learned and hopefully the people who are sitting out there will take the first step and find this blog in their search for answers on how to better their lifestyle.
I'm so tired of feeling embarrased....I just want to feel "normal."
Three, almost four years ago, I was a high school senior who had put off taking health class until my very last term, and we all know why. I was not only a big girl, but I was the *biggest* girl in my school of 1,000+ kids. I remember so many times that I felt like I just wanted to disappear off the face of the planet. The teasing started in preschool and only got worse from there. Never in my life have I ever heard a word more painful than "the f word." And no, I'm not talking about that word, I'm talking about that horribly awful word that stings when you hear it. It makes you sweat when you hear others talk of it around you, and it makes you feel like a blob of jelly when it's said to you. "Fat"
I don't think that many thin people understand how hateful that word can be. Infact, I don't even think that many overweight people even realize it. How many times have you been walking around Walmart on a day when you are feeling particulary plump and the only words you seem to pick up from everyone's conversations has to do with fat? Suddenly your low self esteem kicks in on overdrive and leads you to believe that everyone is staring at you; everyone in that whole store is talking about you and your weight.
I don't know about you, but I had such a horrible problem with this. At my worst, I even went as far as believing that ANY time anyone was even smiling or giggling it had to be about me. I started to become extremely paranoid about everyone around me and it left me feeling miserable and extremely ugly. I'll never forget when I was walking outside of an antique shop one day and I felt so embarrased to just walk down the street to the car where my mother was. I just had that feeling of being watched, and at that point my self esteem was non-existent. I uncomfortably made my way to our van, sweating profusely and having a panic attack along the way. After what seemed like forever I jumped into our van and the privacy it provided me. My mother looked back and informed me that she had been watching me all the way from inside the antique shop and she was worried about how I was holding myself. "You look embarrased", she told me, "You need to try to stand straight." At that point I realized that my phobias were not only affecting my psychologically but physically as well. It had a drastic affect on my posture, which is probably the reason why I ended up with the severe case of Scoliosis that I have now.
I don't honestly know if we can ever get over that aspect 100% because I know I haven't as of yet. I may be 99% better but there's still those times that I let the last little inkling of that morbidly obese girls' paranoia get into my head. Heck, even today I was in line to get a coffee from Dutch Brothers and I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to put on my concealer. Without even realizing it I started to have the first symptoms of a panic attack. When I noticed myself starting to get very nervous I had to physically calm myself down by taking a deep breath and reminding myself that it didn't matter at all that I didn't have on my makeup. What could they do to me? Honestly? The very worst thing in the whole world that they could do to me in that moment was to make a comment about how bad I looked, and honestly what was that going to do to me? Words are only words until you accept them as truth. This is one of the things that it has taken me the very longest to learn, and I'm still working on it, but it is so important that you stick to it. It doesn't matter what anyone has to say, because everyone will have their own opions, ALWAYS. That's just how life is. You just have to refuse to let it bother you.
One example of this that I will never forget was when I was a senior in high school. I was around my heaviest weight at that time, which was about 330, and I was forced into taking a health class. It was the first class I had had that included fitness as part of the curriculum, because I had gotten my doctor talked into writing me an excuse to pardon me from taking P.E. classes (because of my flat feet of course), and I was petrified. On the first day I couldn't find my class, which looking back on that tiny high school it seems impossible. The druggy kids were all clustered in a stinky group over on the right, the dorky kids in the middle rows, and the popular kids on the left. I was so humiliated at having to walk in late that my eyes just searched frantically for an open seat. The only one was in the front row...directly next to the most popular girl in school. It just happened to be one of the ancient looking mini-desks the high school had just transferred over from the junior high. I already knew that only a part of me was going to be able to squeeze myself in the miniscule space between the flimsy table and the tiny crispy looking plastic seat. Even before I had had the displeasure of seeing them, I had been afraid of them; I had grown up hearing the dreaded story about how one had broken into smithereens when he tried to squeeze himself in it. "Heck, those are probably the same ones we used", he'd always say at the end of the story. Which had always struck even more fear into my heart.
The desk let out a cry of pain as I overloaded its' weight capacity by a couple hundred pounds. A loud metallic pop echoed through the concrete walls and I started to feel myself getting extremely hot. In that moment I honestly would have done anything to be anywhere else but there. As if things couldn't get any worse, he poked the girl in front of him who at that moment I realized who it was: his girlfriend a.k.a. the most popular girl in school. My heart sunk as they giggled and whispered back and forth. I frantically started to try to pull my shirt tightly down over my stomach in an attempt to look lighter. My love handles were literally wrapped around the back of the chair and the metal bar that connected the table to the desk. As I was trying to rearrange myself "they" looked over at me smiling and holding back their laughter, "Are you excited for this class?" He barely got out without giggling. I felt myself go dizzy and boiling hot; sweat started dripping down my back and it was hard to breath. I just attempted a smile because I could't find any words.
I was so horribly uncomfortable in that desk that I really was finding it hard to breath. Not only that but it hurt, and I shutter to imagine what was being pressed down on inside my abdomen. Plus, my butt was only partway on the seat leaving half of my body leaning off the side. My leg was starting to burn from holding myself up. There was an absolute 0% chance that I was going to be able to sit there and suffer through four months.
While everyone was filling out a worksheet I summoned up enough courage to try and stand up. My desk once again let out with a huge popping noise, which sounded like an atomic bomb in the silence, and I walked over to my teacher's desk. My head was spinning and I wasn't even sure exactly what I would say. Would it be possible to just get out of the class? But it was required; Could I take it online??? "Yes?" she smiled sweetly and gave a sweeping look from my head to my toes. "I don't really know how to say this," I blurted out, tears welling up in my eyes, "I don't think I fit very well in my desk." Obviously she had already noticed; even as she was passing out the exams she had had to step over my "supporting" leg which was keeping me from falling. "Ohhhhhhh" was her very dramatic and extremely embarrasing response. She flew out of her seat and declared "Don't worry!!! I'll call DISABILITY SERVICES!" I don't really think she realized just exactly how loudly she was talking. The phone conversation didn't get any better as the words "overweight", "larger sized", and "health class" were sizzled into my brain forever.
She made me walk down with her to the Disability Services office and choose between several different "replacements." I just pointed at one without really even realizing what I was doing and two very attractive football players each took a side and told me to lead the way. I walked sheepishly toward my classroom, tripping over my feet. I could feel those football players' eyes looking me up and down and I hated how it felt. I, of course, had to open the door of the room, and the worst possible thing happened...the table slammed into the wall making a huge noises that echoed through the dining hall directly next door. One of the other students (who else but ANOTHER football player) got up from his seat and helped his buddies prop the door open. When they asked where my teacher wanted it she redirected the question to me, "Bethany, where would YOU like to put it?" I was so embarrased all I could do was shrug.
A phone call, a long "walk of shame", and three hunky sports players later, my new replacement desk was "installed." They had put it back behind all of the desks, so I once again had to walk through through the ocean of staring eyes and find my seat...which wasn't very hard considering it was about the size of four mini-desks put together. When I sat down I looked at the horrible thing up close for the first time and I suddenly felt disgusted to even put my worksheet on it, much less my hands. It had tons of words scratched into it by previous students, however seeing the "f" word (yeah, THAT one) scattered amongst many other "choice" words and phrases, I figured it had probably spent some time in the detention room.
From then on in class I had to get up every time my teacher passed papers down the lines of students. Partially this was because I wasn't in one line but several stretched between about four, and the other is that her bad eye site lead her to forget I was there a large portion of the time. There was a light at the end of the tunnel however (albeit a little decietful light); one day there hadn't been enough papers for me (as usual) and when I went to get one, another girl told me that she needed one too. When I brought it back for her she said, "Thank you Ma'am" and it was then I realized that many of the other students had deducted that I was a teacher's assistant. I'm guessing that either these kids had not bothered to show up on the first day of class (which was HIGHLY probable) or that they had been so high they were practically absent anyways. I, however, loved this mistake and tried my very hardest to reinforce it. By the end of the semester all of the kids, including the popular ones, were convinced of my "position" and they were always letting me know if they needed something, even asking me questions about their worksheets and asking me why they had gotten certain grades on their papers. Lucky for me (at least in this aspect) our teacher was also hard of hearing so she never picked up on my "very professional" answers. After that I tried to sit with a little more poise in my desk, and at one point I even pushed it over next to her desk because I "could see better from there." It may have not been true, but I didn't have anything else to cling to, and it felt MUCH better to tell the other students that I was at the desk because I was special than admit the truth. You shouldn't have to pretend you are someone else just to be able to feel good about yourself. I lied because I couldn't come to terms with the truth; it makes for a funny story looking back on it, but it makes me sad now. I didn't have my own identity, so I had to invent one.
So, long story just to make the point that it doesn't matter what other people think of you. In both situations of that story, both beginning and end Bethany was NOT herself, instead I was just a fictitious identity and I think that an enormous number of people are in this same situation right now. You could be like I was before and not be able to come to terms with how you are right now, your size, your personality, whatever it may be. Or maybe you are so worried about what other people think of you that you attempt to be someone else completely. Is either situation worth it? Why not accept yourself for you are, learn to get over what everyone has to say, and be who you REALLY are? At the end of the semester you may find that people temporarily think higher of you, but what happens when the lie falls through? How will you strive to keep them thinking "good thoughts" about you then? It's YOUR life, choose to be who you really are. I promise you will be happier in the long run because at the end you will still have your integrity and self respect in tact. Their opnions are always going to come and go, but just learn to protect yourself against being effected by them and you're on the right path to self acceptance and if you want to lose weight, you have to choose to love yourself. Losing weight and getting healthy take a lot of care and work..if someone didn't love a child or even a pet, could they really take proper care of it? Why should taking care of yourself be any different? Sure taking time to read labels, fix proper meals, and exercise might be a pain sometimes but you HAVE to take care of yourself. If you don't do it, who will?
Anyways, that concludes the first little "chapter" of my blog :). I hope I get some readers interested, because I honestly want to help someone! Truth be told this is the first step I'm taking before I write my book so comments would greatly be appreciated! I'm going to try and make at least one new post a week, and coming up I'm going to have a little more time between classes so I'll have a little more free time!
And, last thing, I wanted to just let everyone know that I'm trying my hardest to raise money to study abroad in January and I'm about $1,000 short, so if anyone had ANYTHING they could donate to my paypal account at bethany4588@live.com, I'd be very appreciative for any donation. :)
Okay guys, share the word to anyone else you know that might like to read my little blog and leave some comments!
Oh and coming up I'm going to be making a post with healthy breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, even snacks! But, I wanted to post on here just to tell of one delicious breakfast that is "legal" and very high in fiber. If you guys have tried the FiberOne bars you'll know how delicious they! For one Oats and Chocolate FiberOne bar it is only 140 calories and with only 4 grams of fat (1.5 saturated), and 9 grams of fiber, they are a healthy and delicious food. Often for a filling breakfast I have a non-fat, sugar-free hot caramal machiatto at Dutch Brothers (small) for 60 calories and both of these together are only 200 calories!! Not only that but it leaves you feeling satisfied and with the tasty caramel and chocolate in your mouth!! Yum!
- Bethany
I don't think that many thin people understand how hateful that word can be. Infact, I don't even think that many overweight people even realize it. How many times have you been walking around Walmart on a day when you are feeling particulary plump and the only words you seem to pick up from everyone's conversations has to do with fat? Suddenly your low self esteem kicks in on overdrive and leads you to believe that everyone is staring at you; everyone in that whole store is talking about you and your weight.
I don't know about you, but I had such a horrible problem with this. At my worst, I even went as far as believing that ANY time anyone was even smiling or giggling it had to be about me. I started to become extremely paranoid about everyone around me and it left me feeling miserable and extremely ugly. I'll never forget when I was walking outside of an antique shop one day and I felt so embarrased to just walk down the street to the car where my mother was. I just had that feeling of being watched, and at that point my self esteem was non-existent. I uncomfortably made my way to our van, sweating profusely and having a panic attack along the way. After what seemed like forever I jumped into our van and the privacy it provided me. My mother looked back and informed me that she had been watching me all the way from inside the antique shop and she was worried about how I was holding myself. "You look embarrased", she told me, "You need to try to stand straight." At that point I realized that my phobias were not only affecting my psychologically but physically as well. It had a drastic affect on my posture, which is probably the reason why I ended up with the severe case of Scoliosis that I have now.
I don't honestly know if we can ever get over that aspect 100% because I know I haven't as of yet. I may be 99% better but there's still those times that I let the last little inkling of that morbidly obese girls' paranoia get into my head. Heck, even today I was in line to get a coffee from Dutch Brothers and I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to put on my concealer. Without even realizing it I started to have the first symptoms of a panic attack. When I noticed myself starting to get very nervous I had to physically calm myself down by taking a deep breath and reminding myself that it didn't matter at all that I didn't have on my makeup. What could they do to me? Honestly? The very worst thing in the whole world that they could do to me in that moment was to make a comment about how bad I looked, and honestly what was that going to do to me? Words are only words until you accept them as truth. This is one of the things that it has taken me the very longest to learn, and I'm still working on it, but it is so important that you stick to it. It doesn't matter what anyone has to say, because everyone will have their own opions, ALWAYS. That's just how life is. You just have to refuse to let it bother you.
One example of this that I will never forget was when I was a senior in high school. I was around my heaviest weight at that time, which was about 330, and I was forced into taking a health class. It was the first class I had had that included fitness as part of the curriculum, because I had gotten my doctor talked into writing me an excuse to pardon me from taking P.E. classes (because of my flat feet of course), and I was petrified. On the first day I couldn't find my class, which looking back on that tiny high school it seems impossible. The druggy kids were all clustered in a stinky group over on the right, the dorky kids in the middle rows, and the popular kids on the left. I was so humiliated at having to walk in late that my eyes just searched frantically for an open seat. The only one was in the front row...directly next to the most popular girl in school. It just happened to be one of the ancient looking mini-desks the high school had just transferred over from the junior high. I already knew that only a part of me was going to be able to squeeze myself in the miniscule space between the flimsy table and the tiny crispy looking plastic seat. Even before I had had the displeasure of seeing them, I had been afraid of them; I had grown up hearing the dreaded story about how one had broken into smithereens when he tried to squeeze himself in it. "Heck, those are probably the same ones we used", he'd always say at the end of the story. Which had always struck even more fear into my heart.
The desk let out a cry of pain as I overloaded its' weight capacity by a couple hundred pounds. A loud metallic pop echoed through the concrete walls and I started to feel myself getting extremely hot. In that moment I honestly would have done anything to be anywhere else but there. As if things couldn't get any worse, he poked the girl in front of him who at that moment I realized who it was: his girlfriend a.k.a. the most popular girl in school. My heart sunk as they giggled and whispered back and forth. I frantically started to try to pull my shirt tightly down over my stomach in an attempt to look lighter. My love handles were literally wrapped around the back of the chair and the metal bar that connected the table to the desk. As I was trying to rearrange myself "they" looked over at me smiling and holding back their laughter, "Are you excited for this class?" He barely got out without giggling. I felt myself go dizzy and boiling hot; sweat started dripping down my back and it was hard to breath. I just attempted a smile because I could't find any words.
I was so horribly uncomfortable in that desk that I really was finding it hard to breath. Not only that but it hurt, and I shutter to imagine what was being pressed down on inside my abdomen. Plus, my butt was only partway on the seat leaving half of my body leaning off the side. My leg was starting to burn from holding myself up. There was an absolute 0% chance that I was going to be able to sit there and suffer through four months.
While everyone was filling out a worksheet I summoned up enough courage to try and stand up. My desk once again let out with a huge popping noise, which sounded like an atomic bomb in the silence, and I walked over to my teacher's desk. My head was spinning and I wasn't even sure exactly what I would say. Would it be possible to just get out of the class? But it was required; Could I take it online??? "Yes?" she smiled sweetly and gave a sweeping look from my head to my toes. "I don't really know how to say this," I blurted out, tears welling up in my eyes, "I don't think I fit very well in my desk." Obviously she had already noticed; even as she was passing out the exams she had had to step over my "supporting" leg which was keeping me from falling. "Ohhhhhhh" was her very dramatic and extremely embarrasing response. She flew out of her seat and declared "Don't worry!!! I'll call DISABILITY SERVICES!" I don't really think she realized just exactly how loudly she was talking. The phone conversation didn't get any better as the words "overweight", "larger sized", and "health class" were sizzled into my brain forever.
She made me walk down with her to the Disability Services office and choose between several different "replacements." I just pointed at one without really even realizing what I was doing and two very attractive football players each took a side and told me to lead the way. I walked sheepishly toward my classroom, tripping over my feet. I could feel those football players' eyes looking me up and down and I hated how it felt. I, of course, had to open the door of the room, and the worst possible thing happened...the table slammed into the wall making a huge noises that echoed through the dining hall directly next door. One of the other students (who else but ANOTHER football player) got up from his seat and helped his buddies prop the door open. When they asked where my teacher wanted it she redirected the question to me, "Bethany, where would YOU like to put it?" I was so embarrased all I could do was shrug.
A phone call, a long "walk of shame", and three hunky sports players later, my new replacement desk was "installed." They had put it back behind all of the desks, so I once again had to walk through through the ocean of staring eyes and find my seat...which wasn't very hard considering it was about the size of four mini-desks put together. When I sat down I looked at the horrible thing up close for the first time and I suddenly felt disgusted to even put my worksheet on it, much less my hands. It had tons of words scratched into it by previous students, however seeing the "f" word (yeah, THAT one) scattered amongst many other "choice" words and phrases, I figured it had probably spent some time in the detention room.
From then on in class I had to get up every time my teacher passed papers down the lines of students. Partially this was because I wasn't in one line but several stretched between about four, and the other is that her bad eye site lead her to forget I was there a large portion of the time. There was a light at the end of the tunnel however (albeit a little decietful light); one day there hadn't been enough papers for me (as usual) and when I went to get one, another girl told me that she needed one too. When I brought it back for her she said, "Thank you Ma'am" and it was then I realized that many of the other students had deducted that I was a teacher's assistant. I'm guessing that either these kids had not bothered to show up on the first day of class (which was HIGHLY probable) or that they had been so high they were practically absent anyways. I, however, loved this mistake and tried my very hardest to reinforce it. By the end of the semester all of the kids, including the popular ones, were convinced of my "position" and they were always letting me know if they needed something, even asking me questions about their worksheets and asking me why they had gotten certain grades on their papers. Lucky for me (at least in this aspect) our teacher was also hard of hearing so she never picked up on my "very professional" answers. After that I tried to sit with a little more poise in my desk, and at one point I even pushed it over next to her desk because I "could see better from there." It may have not been true, but I didn't have anything else to cling to, and it felt MUCH better to tell the other students that I was at the desk because I was special than admit the truth. You shouldn't have to pretend you are someone else just to be able to feel good about yourself. I lied because I couldn't come to terms with the truth; it makes for a funny story looking back on it, but it makes me sad now. I didn't have my own identity, so I had to invent one.
So, long story just to make the point that it doesn't matter what other people think of you. In both situations of that story, both beginning and end Bethany was NOT herself, instead I was just a fictitious identity and I think that an enormous number of people are in this same situation right now. You could be like I was before and not be able to come to terms with how you are right now, your size, your personality, whatever it may be. Or maybe you are so worried about what other people think of you that you attempt to be someone else completely. Is either situation worth it? Why not accept yourself for you are, learn to get over what everyone has to say, and be who you REALLY are? At the end of the semester you may find that people temporarily think higher of you, but what happens when the lie falls through? How will you strive to keep them thinking "good thoughts" about you then? It's YOUR life, choose to be who you really are. I promise you will be happier in the long run because at the end you will still have your integrity and self respect in tact. Their opnions are always going to come and go, but just learn to protect yourself against being effected by them and you're on the right path to self acceptance and if you want to lose weight, you have to choose to love yourself. Losing weight and getting healthy take a lot of care and work..if someone didn't love a child or even a pet, could they really take proper care of it? Why should taking care of yourself be any different? Sure taking time to read labels, fix proper meals, and exercise might be a pain sometimes but you HAVE to take care of yourself. If you don't do it, who will?
Anyways, that concludes the first little "chapter" of my blog :). I hope I get some readers interested, because I honestly want to help someone! Truth be told this is the first step I'm taking before I write my book so comments would greatly be appreciated! I'm going to try and make at least one new post a week, and coming up I'm going to have a little more time between classes so I'll have a little more free time!
And, last thing, I wanted to just let everyone know that I'm trying my hardest to raise money to study abroad in January and I'm about $1,000 short, so if anyone had ANYTHING they could donate to my paypal account at bethany4588@live.com, I'd be very appreciative for any donation. :)
Okay guys, share the word to anyone else you know that might like to read my little blog and leave some comments!
Oh and coming up I'm going to be making a post with healthy breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, even snacks! But, I wanted to post on here just to tell of one delicious breakfast that is "legal" and very high in fiber. If you guys have tried the FiberOne bars you'll know how delicious they! For one Oats and Chocolate FiberOne bar it is only 140 calories and with only 4 grams of fat (1.5 saturated), and 9 grams of fiber, they are a healthy and delicious food. Often for a filling breakfast I have a non-fat, sugar-free hot caramal machiatto at Dutch Brothers (small) for 60 calories and both of these together are only 200 calories!! Not only that but it leaves you feeling satisfied and with the tasty caramel and chocolate in your mouth!! Yum!
- Bethany
