Pleasantly Plump

I can't remember a time in my life that I wasn't overweight. Outside of the toddler years and early elementary, I've always carried those extra pounds that I've never been able to shake off. It's funny to think that when I was younger, my step-grandma would tell me that I was "pleasantly plump" and that it was baby weight. I was active, swimming like a fish in the summer and playing horse with my papaw in the afternoons. Despite this, my love for sweets, cokes and all things carbohydrate, my body piled on the pounds like a bear preparing for hibernation. Now, in my late 20's and fatter than I've ever been in my life, I have fantasies of someone finally inventing a time machine just for the sole purpose of me going back in time to smack that Little Debbie cake right out of my pudgy hand.

I'm not bitter--not even a little bit. My life has been so absolutely blessed that I find myself looking back at photos in amazement at my experiences. Everyone has mean little bullies to deal with in school. I had more than my fair share of them, but if I hadn't of been fat, it would have been something else. Maybe they would have noticed my pug nose or the fact that I had feet like an ostrich. Who knows? The fact of the matter is, without those bullies in my early life, I wouldn't have developed the thicker skin needed to handle certain things that would occur later on. For example, who's to say I could have shouldered the responsibility of being there for my mom when my dad passed away? Or, on a lighter note, what direction would my life have went without the social skills, sense of humor and confidence I'd been forced to develop when I wasn't making the cut physically?

I'll admit that it's the little things that hurt the most. It's the feeling of being the second-option, when the first didn't pull through. It's the guys wanting to chat with you on Facebook, only to find out they want to hang out in secret. It's the looks, the snubs, the dirty glances when you ask for seconds at a family dinner. It's the insecure feeling that everyone is thinking about what you're thinking about--"girl, you need to push back the plate!"

Now, as I research the different surgery options to help me reach my goal weight, I'm realizing that there isn't such a thing as a magic skinny button. Even with a weigh loss surgery, it's going to take a lot of hard work to achieve the goals I've set for myself. There will be no more Coca Cola (my favorite--especially from McDonalds. They must sprinkle something special in theirs because it truly taste better). I will no longer be able to guzzle water, eat carbs or eat large portions of food. I say this as a good and bad thing. For anyone assuming that weight loss surgery is an easy way out, trust me when I say that I was of that opinion as well when the thought first crossed my mind. After speaking to the doctor and doing the research, the surgery is simply the tool needed to get me back on the right path. It's just the beginning of a very long journey!