The Heavyset Woman

I have been called many a name in my lifetime in regards to my weight. Some childhood non-faves include; Lardo, boom-ba-ba-boom (they would chant this whenever I walked on to the bus), 2-Ton, Fat Ass, Kellie-Belly, Big Bertha. I can recall being humiliated more times than I would care to remember.

Each rotten name brought me back to a place in my mind’s eye where I would curl up into fetal position and cry big ol’ crocadile tears. I prayed to God that he would make me thin like the other girls. I just wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to wear the same clothes as them, have the same boyfriends, and be that cool, outgoing girl I would always see walking the halls of my school flipping her perfect hair over her shoulders and giggling to her friends. At the height of my Junior High angst, I asked God to kill me. Just get rid of me. I was no good and no one would ever love me. Thankfully, the Lord is good. Otherwise, I would have missed a lot of great stuff and more love than I could have ever imagined!

I had since forgotten those times as they seem as far away as they are. I am a different person today than I was then. I am outgoing even though I am heavy. I am very loved even though I am large. I have many friends even though putting two of them together might add one of me.

But then, then something happened today that made me want to curl up into the fetal position again. I was speaking with an employee over the phone regarding some missing paperwork. I asked him to describe the person he handed the paperwork off to and he said “The heavyset lady. She had blond hair, but I think she was a brunette”. He was referring to me. me. The heavyset lady. Why those words sent me into a depressive state I’ll never know. It’s not even a name-calling type of name. It is merely a descriptive word to describe someone’s body type. That someone is me. Me. The heavyset lady. I just can’t get over it for some reason. Maybe, it’s because I’ve never asked someone to describe me physically before. When someone is referring to me they usually use words that describe my personality (bubbly, cute, sarcastic, fun, etc.). To have someone describe my body-type sent me under cover. Pleasingly plump? Overly curvy? Chubby? Nope. Heavyset.

Heavyset. Isn’t that a word to describe someone much older than I? I’m only 26. I’m still in my mid twenties for heaven’s sake! Although, what was he supposed to say? The ginormous fat chick with the fucked up hair? No. That would’ve been worse. So, heavyset it is, I guess…

My husband and I took the kids on a walk to the park yesterday. We are going to try to walk everyday to improve our physique. We both want to do a body overhaul. We are scared of heart attacks, diabetes, cancer, all the ailments that they say obese people have a greater chance of developing.

We took the camera with us on our park adventure so that we could get some adorable shots of Owen playing and Sophie… not playing but still looking cute.

At one point, Dave turned the camera to me and Soph, sitting in the swing, smiling away. Later on, I took a look at the shots we obtained from the camera. As I went through the pictures my thoughts centered around; Oh… this is a great one of Owen climbing on the monkey bars! Look at Sophie sitting in her baby seat! She’s such a beauty! There’s Owen and my husband at the slides! And then I came to a photo with me, sitting on the swing with Soph. My thoughts then; OmyGod who is that …. That … woman? Who is that large lady on the swing? The one with the tight black t-shirt, double chin and massive stomach hanging down? Oh. That’s me. The woman who looks so tired and a bit dull in the photo? Yeah, that’s me.

At that moment, motivation never hit me so hard. I wanted to run around a hundred blocks just to get back to where I was before. I had reached that pivotal point in one’s weight gain journey where I realized that I went too long down the wrong path of self-destruction. I didn’t even recognize myself and that scared me.

Body Identity: The heavyset woman.