This past weekend we went to an amusement park and my younger son kept poking at my arm and saying things like "You've got a jiggly arm. Why is it jiggly? Mine isn't jiggly." And he is right. My arm is jiggly. However the question that stopped me in my tracks was, "Mom, what happened to you?"
What indeed happened to me? I gained 60 pounds that I can't seem to permanently drop. But that is the easy answer. The harder answer is "What happened to me?" Because something really did happen to me. And I never want it to happen to my kids. Ever.
I had a cousin who died from complications of Anorexia, but this didn't stop my great aunt (her mother) from making comments about my weight whenever I walked into her apartment. I think she thought the observations weren't personal, after all they were just about my weight, not about me; "Oh, Devra's weight looks wonderful." or "What's going on with Devra's weight?" Maybe she thought it was polite conversation and instead of asking "How are you?" she inquired about my weight.
It was ridiculous. And damaging.
There I was in my tweens and teens, average weight for my height, and yet I was continually thinking I was overweight or in danger of being overweight. Looking back on my pictures from my childhood, I was not obese. And yet, I had a doctor tell me in 7th grade "You're as big as a house." The picture of me you see in this post? Taken the same week as my doctor appointment. I'm the one in the purple, the house is wearing white.
So this weekend I had an epiphany of sorts. My son handed me a road map and it's time to find my way to being me again. I don't have a need to be a certain size or weight, all I want is to have my mind connect to my body and be at a point where I can live life, feel healthy and not tsk tsk myself.