But I digress...
When I was a wee little tyke, I was a pretty skinny little kid. In fact I remember my family calling me "Skinny Minnie" and telling me I had a "bony bum" when I would sit on their lap.
When I was a wee little tyke, I was a pretty skinny little kid. In fact I remember my family calling me "Skinny Minnie" and telling me I had a "bony bum" when I would sit on their lap.
So, how did I go from "Skinny Minnie" to having men yell, "F*ck you're fat!" at me from their truck windows? (A real occurrence that did marvels for my self-confidence let me tell ya!)
The answer is twofold - poverty and ignorance. Let me say first off that I use the word ignorance in its truest form, meaning simply a lack of knowledge.
My mom was also a big lady. She was always a little chubby as a kid. You know, she got boobs early, got teased about it, and thus began her own body image issues. She was also never taught proper eating habits. She came from a generation that taught women that they should always be "dieting". (Worst. Word. Ever.) Women weren't taught to eat in moderation or to make mostly healthy food choices so that the odd unhealthy choice was outweighed. (If you'll excuse the unintentional pun.) They were taught that dainty ladies ate like a bird, and if you carried any extra pounds, the way to get rid of them was to starve yourself until they were gone.
So, this was the knowledge that society gave my mom, which explains her ignorance. An ignorance she passed on to me.
I want to be clear that I am not blaming my mom. She had to fight with her weight all her life and so she was lovingly determined to make sure I didn't suffer the same fate. So when, as a result of the generally poor nutrition that our family enjoyed, I began to get a little pot belly around the age of eight, I'm sure my mom saw flashes of my unhappy, fat future and panicked.
Thus my first diet and my first lesson that, "food is the enemy."
My first diet consisted of drinking those "Slimfast" shakes. Remember those?
"Give us a week; we'll take off the weight!"
They were meal replacement shakes. You had a shake for breakfast and lunch and then a "sensible" dinner.
I thought this was going to be great! I get to drink MILKSHAKES for my meals?! Sa-Weet!! Oh, wait. Nope, I HAVE to drink a disgusting, medicin-y tasting, vaguely dairy, pink goop. Mmmm!!!
It was not successful.
But let me tell you how my little 8-year-old body interpreted this "diet":
"Oh my!! Someone is trying to starve this poor little girl!! Okay, I'll help her out. Whatever food she actually gets, I'm gonna store it as fat so that the next time she's starved like this, she'll have lots of fuel to live off."
And so began the yo-yo ride.
At the age of 12, I was 130 lbs, which I'll grant you is kinda chubby for a kid, but my body runs naturally toward the curvy, and if I'd started eating properly and in moderation, I would have been fine. I also had a decent amount of muscle on me, because I pushed my mom's wheelchair around and lifted her up and down sidewalks and such. And like I said, she was a bigger lady. But none of these good traits were noticed or cared about. I was simply a number on a scale and that number was TOO HIGH!!!
So, my mom made a deal with me. She would give me a great diet that was guaranteed to make me lose weight. And if I lost 10 lbs in one week (SO HEALTHY!) she would buy me the two dresses I'd been eyeing. I agreed to the deal and it felt like a fun challenge.
By this time, I too was paranoid about my weight. I was tired of being made fun of in school. I had earned the dubious nickname of "Hips" at my Junior High. Kids would yell down the hallway at me; "H-H-H-Hips!!" It was not fun.
Instead of dealing with the bullying, my mom told me the solution was to change the way I looked so that they couldn't make fun of me anymore. I so wish she'd told me that I was fine the way I was and if I'd just hold on to those lovely curves one day they would be very popular. But that wasn't the way she was taught, and so we struck the deal.
My mom's "no-fail" diet was to eat nothing but consomme soup for the week. In case you don't know, consomme soup is just a beef broth. So, that's what I ate for the week. And man, did those pounds ever fly off. I did lose the 10 pounds (actually 12 lbs if I remember correctly) and my mom was so proud. "That's will power!"
I was so pleased with the results that I continued to eat consomme soup for breakfast and lunch and then a tiny something for supper. Usually some kind of fruit or vegetable, because I didn't want to be "unhealthy".
Of course these kind of horrible eating habits couldn't be kept up forever. Before long I was tired of having an empty stomach all the time and the consomme soup diet was shelved alongside all the other fad diets I tried; including one where I ate nothing but no-calorie, diet Jello. Who wouldn't want to eat Jello all the time?! Um...me...as it turns out. To this day I can't stand lime Jello. *shudder*
These terrible eating patterns of months of over-eating followed by a month or two of starvation continued over the next couple of years.
Then my mom died and food stopped being my enemy and became my best friend; my helpmate; my succor when I was broken-hearted. This was MUCH worse.
(We'll continue the saga of the Linda's fat in tomorrow's edition of; "As the Fat Turns".)
And so began the yo-yo ride.
At the age of 12, I was 130 lbs, which I'll grant you is kinda chubby for a kid, but my body runs naturally toward the curvy, and if I'd started eating properly and in moderation, I would have been fine. I also had a decent amount of muscle on me, because I pushed my mom's wheelchair around and lifted her up and down sidewalks and such. And like I said, she was a bigger lady. But none of these good traits were noticed or cared about. I was simply a number on a scale and that number was TOO HIGH!!!
So, my mom made a deal with me. She would give me a great diet that was guaranteed to make me lose weight. And if I lost 10 lbs in one week (SO HEALTHY!) she would buy me the two dresses I'd been eyeing. I agreed to the deal and it felt like a fun challenge.
By this time, I too was paranoid about my weight. I was tired of being made fun of in school. I had earned the dubious nickname of "Hips" at my Junior High. Kids would yell down the hallway at me; "H-H-H-Hips!!" It was not fun.
Instead of dealing with the bullying, my mom told me the solution was to change the way I looked so that they couldn't make fun of me anymore. I so wish she'd told me that I was fine the way I was and if I'd just hold on to those lovely curves one day they would be very popular. But that wasn't the way she was taught, and so we struck the deal.
My mom's "no-fail" diet was to eat nothing but consomme soup for the week. In case you don't know, consomme soup is just a beef broth. So, that's what I ate for the week. And man, did those pounds ever fly off. I did lose the 10 pounds (actually 12 lbs if I remember correctly) and my mom was so proud. "That's will power!"
I was so pleased with the results that I continued to eat consomme soup for breakfast and lunch and then a tiny something for supper. Usually some kind of fruit or vegetable, because I didn't want to be "unhealthy".
Of course these kind of horrible eating habits couldn't be kept up forever. Before long I was tired of having an empty stomach all the time and the consomme soup diet was shelved alongside all the other fad diets I tried; including one where I ate nothing but no-calorie, diet Jello. Who wouldn't want to eat Jello all the time?! Um...me...as it turns out. To this day I can't stand lime Jello. *shudder*
These terrible eating patterns of months of over-eating followed by a month or two of starvation continued over the next couple of years.
Then my mom died and food stopped being my enemy and became my best friend; my helpmate; my succor when I was broken-hearted. This was MUCH worse.
(We'll continue the saga of the Linda's fat in tomorrow's edition of; "As the Fat Turns".)
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