Thursday, August 28, 2003


Erin, over at and lose the buddha has been on the weight loss trip for a while now, and today in her fitness/diet/weight loss journal she talked about her ‘fat girl’. She wrote a really great piece about her inner fat girl… which prompted me to write my own.

My fat girl is my former self. But she won’t go away. Though I’ve lost close to 95lbs, she remains such a strong part of me sometimes I think she’ll always be here. Maybe I’m ok with that. Maybe I’m not. It really depends on my day and what I’m wearing. Here’s a little more about her…

My fat girl always wears make-up. She is obsessed with having perfect eyeshadow and has spent years practicing. She is never without perfectly lined lips and color filled in to match. Her hair is always done and from the neck up appears to be very well put together. She obsesses about these things, because they are things she can readily control.

My fat girl used to hate shopping for clothes, was always afraid to even try on something in the size she was the last time she bought something. She was afraid that she’d grown or the sizing would be different at Target than it is at Walmart and her trusty size 22 shirt wouldn't be as comfortable. My fat girl used to see pictures of herself at 260lbs and had a hard time believing that was really her. She would thrust the pictures in front of anyone who’d play her game and would bait them with “look at how hideous I look in this picture.” If they agreed, she knew it was just a bad angle. More often than not they’d try to compliment her and tell her it was a good picture. She would smile and swallow the lump in her throat and try her hardest not to cry. She realized that she really was that big and wondered how the hell it happened.

Sometimes when she would get ready for work or to go out she’d look in the mirror and be happy with the girl staring back at her. She’d rarely see the rolls of flab poking out from under her 3x tee shirt. She’d suck in as much as she could and placate herself with the thought “I’ll start eating healthy tomorrow.” Without acknowledging that she had been saying that phrase to herself for years. At night she prayed to God to please give her the strength and will to lose weight. And to please send her the man of her dreams. Though she probably wouldn’t have looked him in the eye even if he showed up with a bow wrapped around him that said “To Allison, From God.”

My fat girl worked her ass off for a year and lost about 95lbs. She wants to lose a minimum of 20 more, but realizes that if she wanted to get down to her ‘ideal weight’ or whatever, she would have to lose 40.
My fat girl longs for the life of the girl who doesn't watch what she eats and still looks fabulous. She longs for the time in her life where she won't have to kill herself at the gym 4 days a week just to maintain her new size.

My fat girl remembers eating a whole bag of nestle treasures (the caramel or peanut butter kinds were the best) in one day. She was filled with shame so she ate an entire carton of Ben and Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk Ice Cream to dull that shame. She never thought about what she was eating while she was eating it. She just ate it and appreciated the rich chocolate or creamy peanut butter or soft caramel as a comfort.

My fat girl was single for 8 long years and afraid she would die alone… or rather with her cats. She spent most of her weekends before she started getting healthy renting movies and curling up with Ben and Jerry’s and other assorted chocolate goodness. She would hide chocolates in her top drawer and the ice cream never even made it to the freezer. She dreamt endlessly about finding love, and becoming a girlfriend, then a wife, and someday a mommy. She never saw herself as obese or gross or even that fat. Now when she looks at those same pictures of her at 260lbs she is amazed.

My fat girl had a hard time accepting compliments before she lost any weight, and now actually has an even harder time accepting them. She sees any weight gain at all as failure and is determined to lose her pouch.. her buddha. My fat girl hates situps though, and prays for God to just take it away whilst she spends hours on cardio. My fat girl doesn't expect to ever be a size 2, but weeps for the day she may be a size 8. But most of all my fat girl has made peace with the fact that this is not a short term thing. Staying smaller than she was will be a battle... but one that she is capable of winning.

My fat girl fell in love. She believes him when he tells her she’s beautiful… but still forgets that she lost any weight at all. She sees pictures of the two of them and sometimes it takes her breath away… how far she’s come. And sometimes all she sees is how far she still wants to go. My fat girl feels the same inside now as before… and knows that her self worth is not dependent on her weight or her dress size. But secretly thinks deep down that she will only be truly happy when she weighs under 150lbs. She is very hard on herself, my fat girl… and is so afraid that one day she will wake up and all the weight will have found its way back… and she will lose everything. Her will to keep trying… her motivation to get her ass up off the couch and into the gym, and worst of all the love of her life... the man of her dreams that God sent. She believes him when he says he’s not going anywhere… no matter what. But the fear is still there. She is also afraid to let down every single person that has paid her a compliment since losing the weight. Somedays it’s enough to make her want to scream and cry and pull at her hair. And sometimes she does.

My fat girl knows that she’s come a long way and should be damn proud of her new body… but sometimes she hates this new body for not being the body she really wants. Sometimes she gets so sick of analyzing every bite of food that goes into her mouth she wants to just say screw it all. But that’s not how she got this far. My fat girl is happier now than she’s ever been, and tries to tell herself that she just needs to take this one day at a time, and the rest will all work itself out. At least she prays it will.


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