When I step on the scale I am amazed. I step on it every day and every day I am amazed. I am closer to 200lbs than to 100lbs. The reason why this is so fascinating is because I was a skinny child. I was teased and told to eat regularly. My West Indian relatives thought my mother was starving me. In my adult life I have worn sizes 0, 2, and 4. Later on in adulthood it went up to 6 then 8. I have heard myself described as “the skinny girl with booty”. As objectifying and ignorant as that sounds I was ok with that description. I learned in my thirties that your metabolism really does change. I also learned that I am an emotional eater.
When people hear this they think I get depressed, get under the covers and eat a pint of ice cream. Which may be true, but I also eat when I’m happy. Getting a promotion? Let’s eat! Found 50 bucks in my jeans, we are eating well tonight! I have always enjoyed food and my saving grace has been that I stay active. I am always involved in some type of physical activity and I rarely diet. I may juice, or do a raw foods fast but abstaining from food all together? No ma’am. Then I had a baby.
My 5’4 single digit clothes wearing self went up to 209lbs. Pause. I ate whatever I wanted, however much I wanted and still did yoga. If I ever were to do it again, which I probably won’t, I will do some cardio. However, when your breathing is labored and a simple task like getting out of the car becomes difficult; you are not thinking about busting a sweat. So now, post baby I am in the double digits for clothing. I have a gut and I cannot wear anything form-fitting without the proper fat camouflage under garments. I visit plus size stores and even continue to wear some of my maternity tops. I exercise as much as possible. Even with the increase of cardio I am not releasing weight. I’m not gaining any, I’m simply maintaining. It looks like I’m going to have to change my eating habits.
The foodie in me is heartbroken. I don’t really eat a lot of junk but there is room for improvement. I am leaning towards a paleo/pescatarian vibe. A vegan diet would probably get me there quicker but Papa Bear doesn’t eat that way and I’m not preparing different sets of meals. I’m busy and making time to cook one meal is difficult enough. It is hard trying to love this new body with its’ sagging boobs, stretch marks and jiggly stomach but I know I have to. I must accept myself exactly the way I am right now before I can change what I see in the mirror. I have a new empathy for the fat girl. I’m fat and I don’t eat fast food every day and I do exercise. The assumptions I made about fat people have all been challenged now that I am one.
Papa Bear thinks that I’m losing my mind. It takes me longer to get out of the house now. I’m always changing outfits and making sure everything is properly sucked and tucked. The clothes despite their size must be stylish. And my face, well it always has to be beat. Papa Bear will yell “what is taking you so long?”
I reply, “Baby if I have to be fat I’m definitely going to be cute.”
~A King’s Ma