Yesterday while at work, I
received a panicked call from my best friend. She wanted me to go on facebook
and check to see if a picture of her had been posted (she doesn’t do facebook).
One of her relatives had taken a picture of her and posted it to their page,
and my friend received a text message about it, and was horrified (seriously,
close to hyperventilating). Like me, she doesn’t let people post pictures of her
on social media sites, because she has gained a significant amount of weight
over the last few years, and doesn’t want certain people to know, or to judge her.
I did my best to calm her,
assured her she looked fine in the pic (she really did), then proceeded to do
what any true friend would—I attempted to hack into the facebook account of the
person who posted it, so I could delete it for her. Unfortunately, my attempts
were unsuccessful (and I don’t have Kim Kardashian’s number), so now anyone who
has seen the photo knows that my friend isn’t a size 4 anymore. She’s
emotionally devastated.
This story probably seems a
tad melodramatic to anyone who has never struggled with their weight, but to
someone who has, I’m betting it’s pretty relatable. Similar scenarios have
played out in my own life more times than I care to admit. I went into my Dad’s
facebook over Christmas—hey, he left his iPad lying around—to delete several
horribly unflattering photos he posted of me without make-up, in mismatched pajamas
and at my highest weight EVER, so I completely understand the oh-my-gosh-someone-posted-a-fat-pic-of-me-I-am-going-to-DIE-OF-HUMILIATION feeling.
Since I’ve gained 80 pounds in
the last two years, the last thing on earth that I want is for my out-of-state
friends, relatives or old boyfriends to see that I have let myself get to my
present state of hugeness. I only want to be seen by friends and acquaintances
when I look gorgeous and trim, so I’ve avoided events and
gatherings of all kinds. I’ve even been scared of my boyfriend proposing (!) because I can’t imagine having engagement or wedding photos of me at this size.
SERIOUSLY?
Why am I living like this? Why
am I in constant fear whenever I go out of my house, terrified that a few
extremely shallow former guy friends of mine might see me? Why do I refuse to
go to events where I might run into someone I haven’t seen in two years? Why am
I skipping vacations to visit cousins and aunts I adore, simply because I can’t
bear for them to see what I’ve let my body become?
Those questions are a big part
of the reason that I decided enough was enough, and made the decision to lose this
weight once and for all. I got to the point where my weight was totally controlling my
life, and I was serving a self-inflicted prison sentence that only made me rely
even more on food for solace and comfort.
Well. I’m tired of living in my
own personal Weightness Protection Program. I’m tired of being afraid of events
and people and gossip and Instagram posts. I'm tired of being miserable. I deserve to live a full, happy, healthy life, and this
debilitating cycle of overeating, shame and fear is not going to be what drives every
decision I make.
I’m officially coming out of hiding. Join me?
I have been lucky to maintain my weight since high school, but you do notice people who do let themselves go. However, honestly while people DO notice they don't care.
ReplyDeleteIf you need any proof, just look at the pictures that people post of themselves half-naked with drinks in hand.
I finally decided that for my kids' sake I had to stop hiding from the camera. They need to see that even when Mom was fat she was present. I'm hopeful that in the future when I'm maintaining a healthy weight instead of battling obesity, I'll at least be able to look back at my "fat pics" and acknowledge that my physical appearance didn't control my participation in life. It does limit me sometimes, but it doesn't control me.
ReplyDelete