I am morbidly obese. There, I said it. Yes, I feel gross and disgusting because of it. I try to practice self love and compassion, but my parents’ voices telling me how disgusting and ugly I am keep shouting to be heard. So, how did I end up like this?

As a child, my grandmother was a major food pusher. I remember my dad telling my mom not to let me eat because I was too fat. I remember being told at 5 years old that I was fat and disgusting. I learned to equate food with safety and comfort. So naturally, as good as my mom was about hiding food, I learned to be good at finding it and sneaking and eating more. I wasn’t thin, but when I look back on pictures, I wasn’t fat. I remember Mom telling me I couldn’t play in my room because I was so fat I’d fall through the floor. I remember her scolding me because I was 14 and wore a size 16. Over the years, I packed on the pounds.

The only time Dad paid attention to me was when he was fussing at me about my weight. I also thought if I gained enough weight my grandfather would stop touching me and trying to have sex with me. Mom told me that was all my own fault, by the way. So, food was comfort and safety. When I snuck and ate, I felt safe and protected. I’ve kept that up, except for 1 time in my life when I actually lost a lot of weight. Of course, it all came back with reinforcements.

I’m finally doing something to take proper care of myself. I’ve joined WW. I’m in therapy. I’ve done DBT and CBT. I asked my doctor for medical help. I am going to get there. My goal for 2022 is to lose 100 pounds. I’ll still be obese, but I’ll be better off than I am now. I have tools now. I am going to use them. I am going to write about it here to increase my accountability and focus on the goal. I hope it helps me and anyone else who needs the help and support. I’ve got this.