When I attended my 10 year high school reunion during the summer of 2007, I was horrified to see the pictures. I HATED HOW I LOOKED. I HATED THAT I WAS WITH MY TWO BEST FRIENDS FROM CHILDHOOD, AND FELT MORE FAT AND MORE UGLY THAN EVER.
And I realized, that I had been in denial. I thought that because I could keep up with my kids, that I was fine. That because I could work at a job that becomes extremely physically demanding during parts of the year, that I was fine. I thought because men would ask me to dance if I was out at a club, that I was fine. That because I was often complimented or told I was pretty, I was fine. And yet I wasn't. I started to get real.
I had not owned a scale in years. If that isn't denial, I don't know what is. I bought one. I was the heaviest I had ever been. And in 3 years, I had gained 30 pounds. I stopped fucking around with fad diets. I have done them all. I had a 20 pound range, and EVERY fad diet could get 20 pounds off. And they would come right back on.
It pissed me off that I looked so much better that summer that we began hanging out with Shane and Nicole...and I had recently had a baby! I was not thin, and have not been since my early teens. I am naturally curvy, even at my smallest. And now I had just stopped caring, and hadn't cared in years.
And so I started. Quietly. One thing I have learned is that if I blab about wanting to lose weight, it backfires. Friends can be sabotaging. My husband can be sabotaging. After our job changes in 2003, he gained about 40 pounds. And I thought he looked great. I liked him thicker. Shortly after that, he began working out and lost the weight, and became almost obsessed with it. And to this day, continues to be. I think he is too thin, and that has lessened my attraction to him, but that is another story. Yet, he isn't always the healthiest eater, and that was hard for me too.
I made small changes...Starbucks was fine, but it had to be nonfat milk. I stopped my horrible habit of not eating all day, and then eating a lot at night. I stopped allowing myself to eat differently than what I was feeding my kids...I would always make sure they were eating right, but would eat something different more often than not. And without much effort, I lost weight. Not a ton, but enough that I felt better.
We bought our business in May of 2008, and my husband took over running the new business full time, while I stayed at our previous work place part time. It made the most sense for a number of reasons. He eventually went to a doctor, who told him it was in his head, but gave him some sort of erection pills. I was pissed. I told my husband that he needed to get to the bottom of his issues, that I refused to have sex with someone that required drugs because IT WAS IN THEIR HEAD. He wasn't even 30 when this started! We aren't talking about a grandpa here.
In August of 2008 I had a health scare. I had two lumps on the back of my head that appeared out of nowhere. And CT scans, numerous doctors, and test after test deemed them suspiciously large lymph nodes. And the word cancer was mentioned. And I FREAKED OUT.
I spent night after restless night researching...I had copies of my CT scan, and I analyzed my head like I knew what I was looking at. I was told I needed to have them surgically removed, and although I had 3 previous surgeries under my belt, this was by far the scariest. This was my HEAD.
Every other thing that I read on the online mentioned Lymphoma. And every other thing regarding Lymphoma mentioned H.I.V. / A.I.D.S. I had flashbacks of unprotected sex with Nick...and panicked.
I had the lymph nodes removed, and waited a week to be told that they were non cancerous. My husband sweetly took care of me while I recovered, and while helping me wash my hair the day after surgery, gently held me while I cried over the chunk of hair that had been shaved in the operating room. And within 2 weeks, I was fine, and we were back to our same old relationship. Like I said, he is sweet...and has really good things about him. Yet, there we were, sexless and co-existing again.
The H.I.V. / A.I.D.S. thing still bounced around in my head. I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood, not wanting to ask for tests of that nature from my regular doctor. I sat their in the waiting room, feeling out of place with those around me. I was once 17 and wanting to get on the pill. Yet...I felt stupid. I wasn't 17. I was 29. I was married. I had children. I went to church. And here I was, SNEAKING AROUND, asking for this and that test, and NOT USING MY REAL NAME. Asking for anonymous tests. What the hell? And as I looked at a young couple leaving, knowing full well that the girl must have just had an abortion, I was judgemental. I was judgemental towards Planned Parenthood for even PERFORMING abortions. Being there was against my beliefs. As I high school student, I chose to go to the HEALTH DEPARTMENT for birth control, because they didn't kill babies. And yet, here I was.
I scurried out of there with my clean bill of health (thanking God the entire time), and began to think about my rapidly approaching 30th birthday...and I began to panic. I had knocked out my 20's in the blink of an eye, and had so much to be thankful for, yet so much to be ashamed of.
