Eversince I could remember I’ve always had issues with my weight. As a child, during family parties or whenever my mom would take me to work, people would always say, “Mukhang pinabayaan sa kusina yang anak mo a!” (It seems you let your child run loose in the kitchen) because I was a chubby child. At school, I wasn’t spared from the name calling–“Taba!” (Fat). Why is it that kids can be pure & innocent on one hand and cruel & mean on the other? Only as an adult did I realize that name calling was already a form of bullying. I wasn’t a particularly brave child and so I took the insults…true, it wasn’t really nice to hear but then I figured it’s probably ok…I’m just a kid and I’ll grow out of it.
And I did grow out of it. In high school my clothes were mostly medium sized and I also had a few small sized ones as well. I was able to wear sleeveless shirts and I can still remember how good I felt in my school uniform. But despite this I would still hear people say that I was fat / overweight. I didn’t realize it then but if my present self could travel back in time and face those idiots, I would said, “Say whuuut?!”…alas, I was naive and I didn’t know any better and so I let them get away with it.
College was slightly a different story. Because my course schedules were always hectic, my friends and I would always relax by eating…and so I gained weight. During my final year at university, I signed up for aerobics class along with two close friends. Those were fun times I must admit. Even on days when they couldn’t come, I’d still go to class on my own. A few months after graduation, I lost my mom and because of the stress and depression, I lost a lot of weight and was at my lightest at 111 pounds. Sure it felt kinda awesome being thin..but the sadness and burden of being conscious of how I look took it’s toll and so food became not only a source of sustenance but a source of comfort as well.
I’m now in my 30s and it’s still an ongoing struggle. I would see-saw between good weight & bad weight..depending on my mood. Though I went down 1 jean size a few months back, I still don’t feel great. I rejoiced slightly at that but then a few weeks later I was told by a nutritionist during a consultation at work that my body age is way past my actual age. Oh dear. It’s downright depressing.
I still don’t have a happy or positive ending to this story. I’m still working that out. One thing’s for sure, I’m not giving up.
photos not my property
At least you have been losing!! I havent