Hope After Topping 650lbs

As I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed the other day I came across the following post from my friend and GYSBer. I encourage all of you to read the entire post. It will make you think about how you can be more compassionate and supportive and sensitive towards others.  ~GYSB

“I come from a world where we’ve never met a vegetable we couldn’t fry and the only thing more super-sized than our portions was our clothes. Fast food for me was a comfort for battling my depression and a way to hide my sadness. So it maybe isn’t such a big surprise that by the time I graduated from high school, I weighed 347pounds. My highest weight was 650 pounds and still to this day I see what all that extra weight did to my body and how it has damaged my body.

My prom dress was a size 28, my pant size was 72 and after my graduation I had the gastric bypass. I didn’t do it for myself. I did it thinking the man that I loved would not cheat on me anymore. Yes, I know you all are probably thinking REALLY?

I wasn’t immune — hurtful things would happen on occasion. Groups of rowdy teenagers sometimes yelled insults at me from car windows. I gave my phone number to a nice guy, only to find out when he called that he had a fetish for overweight women, shamelessly telling me that he likes “something to grab onto” during sex. Or someone would approach me out of nowhere on the street and tell me not to worry about how I look; someday — when I’m ready — I’ll lose the weight. I use to have “friends” in high school tell me they were my friend because it made them feel better about themselves; and those were the skinny’s. And of course, I compared myself endlessly to the impossibly thin women in magazines, just like the average-weight women I knew, to whom I also, by the way, compared myself.

Despite these blows to your self-esteem, for the most part, nobody close to you really tells you to your face what they think about your weight. As a result, a fat girl’s worldview is missing vital pieces of information. When you don’t get invited on your friends’ man-catching all-girl outings, or when men, who enjoy sleeping with you over and over again, fail to want to date you, you can’t quite comprehend that all this is really caused by the way you look.

It’s been 8 years now that I’ve still struggled to maintained that weight loss. I still even find myself overeating to mask my sadness. But loosing the weight is the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. Not only because I’m healthier and will probably live longer, but because I now sometimes reap the benefits of a society set up to punish fat people for the unforgivable crime of eating too much.

I hear the fat jokes right out loud now, instead of just a whispering breeze brushing past my ear. Men who used to let the door swing shut in my face now hold it open for me politely and look me up and down as I step past. A man I began dating a few months after reaching my goal weight, sees the picture of me and admits he probably wouldn’t have gone out with me when I looked like that. I appreciate his honesty. It’s better than the good-intentioned people who gush upon seeing the new me, “You’re so pretty now!” before stammering to add, “Not that you weren’t, uh, pretty before.” I still feel will I ever be good enough FOR someone to love me or me and my flaws? My body isn’t perfect and it will never be. When being intimate with your partner is the worst feeling in the world. You always have in the back of your mind “what is his thinking?” “Is he laughing at me?”

As the years pass, it is easy to forget. I have even, on a few occasions, found myself looking at myself in the mirror with faint disdain, I hope never to gain back the weight I lost. But I have seen another side of people that I cannot forget. And with any luck, I never will.
I hope I always stay fat on the inside.”


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