After all this time I’ve never told anybody my Story. On why I’m on this journey.

Or how I got here…

I don’t have the story of being the Fat Kid since forever. I remember when I wasn’t. I remember when I was the scrawny tomboy with bruised knees and pig tails. I was that little girl who would rather wear shorts than skirts and you could usually find me playing baseball or football with the boys.

Then it happened. It was kind of sudden. Puberty. It hit me like a sack of potatoes. Which, coincidentally, is what I ended up looking like. The first thing I noticed was the boobs. Where the HELL did those come from? I went from nothing to size C virtually overnight. Then the rest started to catch up. My stomach Grew. My butt grew. EVERYTHING grew. It just wouldn’t stop.

Unfortunately for young me I didn’t know the first thing about diet or exercise. I never got the correlation between food and my ever expanding waistline.

As time wore on I knew that I was not happy with how I looked. It was bad enough I was nerdy, had braces, AND wore glasses lets just add being a fat ass on top of everything else. I eventually sunk into a depression and ignored the world around me. I worked, did my sports (yeah, I was a fat kid who did sports….go figure) and went to school. However, by senior year the depression had gotten so bad I quit absolutely everything.

My interest in life and plummeted and I hated myself.

A friend of mine went to prom with me. Prom dress shopping….I cried. Nothing fit. I felt hideous. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. I was about 185 lbs at this point. I was 17, fat, and so unbelievably miserable with myself.

Things would change for me though.

I lost weight. A LOT of weight.

I decided that the best course of action was to become anorexic and bulimic.

Yeah, I went to the completely opposite end of the spectrum.

I didn’t look healthy. I didn’t care though. I dropped ALL of that weight in record time. I went from 185 lbs down to 115 in a matter of 4 months. I was sick, but who cares? I was finally skinny! I had guys asking me out. I could finally wear a bikini. It was awesome.

I eventually started dating my now husband. All the while keeping my dark, dirty eating problem a HUGE secret.

Until my mother found out. She tried everything to convince of why it was such a bad idea. How I was killing myself.

I didn’t care. I was skinny.

Then she told now husband.

Oh boy. That did it. He very…nicely…let me know that if I didn’t knock the shit off I would be boyfriendless. I didn’t want to lose him. I had fallen in love with this man. I had a hard decision to make.

With the his help I overcame the anorexia and bulimia.

The weight gain started again. It wasn’t too bad at first. I was learning about exercise and eating right.

Of course I would get pregnant at that time. With twins.

Oh man I packed on the weight. I went right back up to 185. Bad birth control option after the kids were born made my weight balloon up to 205. Then it just kept going up and up and up.

Till I hit 260.

That was around Christmas last year. Nothing fit. I had myself. I looked gross.

For the 10 millionth time I said I was getting serious. What was different this time?

I was serious.

I went to the gym. I learned about healthy eating. What was good. What was bad. And I stuck to it.

The first 5 lbs came off and I was feeling good. Moving was getting easier. I wasn’t as short of breath when I climbed the stairs.

Then 20 lbs, 30 lbs, and finally 50 lbs.

I’m down 52 lbs at this point.

I’m still a work in progress, but I’m getting healthier. I’m setting goals and I’m sticking to them.

That’s my story.

That’s how I got to where I am now.

The fat mom who’s trying to be the trim mom.

A married woman with 9 year old twins. Finally moving off the couch. Getting to the gym and planning on running a half marathon next year.

What’s your story?