Let me share a little secret with you. The woman in the picture on the left? Yep, that’s me. Five years ago, after having three kids, I was at my smallest since I was a teenager. This snapshot was taken at a lake just two months before I turned 35. I weighed 123 pounds, the lightest I’d been since I was 15. I remember walking into J.Crew to buy some khaki pants and asking for a size 8. The sales associate kindly suggested I might need a size 4 instead. Charming, but I insisted on the 8, which promptly fell down when I tried them on.
Yet, despite being the thinnest I had been in years, I looked at that photo and thought I appeared “fat.” Fast forward to the picture you might recognize: here I am, two months ago, just a few months after hitting the big 4-0, surrounded by my five kids. Yep, that’s me, the one who looks like a mom.
The Roller Coaster of Weight
My weight has been a wild ride, fluctuating dramatically over the years. It’s like a roller coaster, but without the fun. Pregnancy, breastfeeding, nursing school, and the love-hate relationship with exercise have all played their parts. The “after” photo was taken after losing a sweet baby girl and experiencing a whirlwind of life events: marriage, divorce, a couple of broken bones, and caring for countless babies as a labor and delivery nurse.
The Cost of “Physical Hotness”
To achieve that “physical hotness” I worked hard. I restricted myself to just 1,000 calories a day, ran 35 miles a week, and averaged three hours of sleep per night. I counted every morsel of food, even tracking down the calories in a single cherry tomato. I lost my period and denied myself food when I was hungry. And guess what? None of it made me happy.
You might be thinking, “Wow, you looked amazing! What happened?” or “How did you let yourself gain that much weight?” Maybe some will even call me “fat.” But let me tell you: I’m both happy and healthy.
Shattering Stereotypes
It’s time to shatter the stereotype that thin equals happy. I learned the hard way that having a six-pack doesn’t equate to joy. Being a size 4 may have made clothing shopping easier and turned heads, but it also consumed my thoughts and dictated my happiness. I became obsessed with workouts, calorie counting, and avoiding the foods I loved.
Happiness isn’t dependent on being thin, and being heavier doesn’t mean I’m sad. I’ve been pondering this for weeks, and a recent article I read pushed me to finally share my story. The media bombards us with weight loss pills and quick-fix diets, promoting the idea that thinness equals worthiness.
Finding Peace in My Body
Recently, changes in my medication for bipolar disorder led to a ten-pound weight gain, and I can’t lie: squeezing into jeans two sizes too small is not fun. But here’s the twist—I’ve found a sense of peace I never had before. I’m embracing my body and my life, and honestly, ten pounds doesn’t matter when I’m enjoying time with my kids and getting enough sleep.
A Radical Idea
So here’s a radical idea: be fat and happy. Wear that bikini and own it. Indulge in pizza and ice cream without guilt. The world may want you to chase thinness, but that’s a trap. You’re worthy of love and happiness, regardless of your size.
Resources for Your Journey
If you’re curious to learn more about insemination options, check out this informative piece on home insemination techniques. For those on a fertility journey, Make a Mom is a great resource. And if you’re seeking more information on pregnancy and insemination, Johns Hopkins offers excellent insights.
In Summary
My journey through weight fluctuations has taught me that happiness is not dependent on size. Embrace who you are, celebrate your body, and remember that joy comes from within.