I'm fat

I've been thinking about this for some time now because, well, I've been this way for a very long time and it's hard not to think about it: I'm fat.

And I don't mean 20-pounds-overweight-oh-dear-oh-my-how-will-I-ever-fit-into-my-size-6-jeans fat. I mean I'm obese fat. Like, morbidly obese. Like, I need to lose a hundred pounds (100 pounds!) to even be considered of average weight for my 5'3.5" frame.

I'm fat because of years and years and years of emotional eating. Basically, I can trust food like nothing else in life. It's always been there for me and always will be there for me. Unconditionally. And hot damn does it taste good. Always. I never eat something and then feel bad for eating it. Sure, I know that I shouldn't be eating some of the things I've eaten, or the quantity of it, but it always tastes so good (or I wouldn't eat it). So I keep eating. And when something bad happens, like when my husband pisses me off or something much worse that I don't want to deal with, I tend to grab a pint of ice cream or order a cheeseburger and cheese fries and eat. And eat. I push those feelings down and eventually out.

Not good, I know.

But I own it.

I own the fact that I'm fat.

I own the fact that it's all a result of poor eating and being a lazy fuck*.

And I very rarely discuss dieting or being fat or whatnot with others, as a result. It is what it is.

But.

It does NOT define me.

I REFUSE to let my weight define who I am.

I REFUSE to allow it to hinder me from doing things (like becoming a mom... like playing with my kid).

Being fat is a part of who I am (and even if I can manage to get down to a svelter me, being fat will always be a part of me- or who I was), yes, but it's not all of who I am.

More than anything else, I am a Mommy. I am her Mommy. And that, my friends, is what matters.

You see, while I may not be a size 10 (or even close to it), she doesn't care. And neither do I. Not when it comes to seeing her with that face, that smile, that full of life: 

That's me and my Life. Sitting right there on my hip. And it doesn't get any better than this!

*I do not eat shit food, nor am I gluttonous in front of Lovie. I refuse to allow her to think that the way I feed my emotions is "normal" or "good." But, we do live life to the fullest which, for us, means an occasional meal from the likes McDonald's. Lovie is an amazing little girl in so many ways, including the fact that she eats everything (from chicken nuggets to fruits and vegetables). If she grows up to be fat, so be it. I'm not raising her to be fat. I'm not raising her to be a pretty princess. I'm raising her to (hopefully) be who she is and, most importantly, HAPPY with who she is.