I need to vent today about weight. Specifically my weight.

I was not a chunky child. I think I was probably pretty average. I did ballet and gymnastics and the biggest issue I had was that my boobs got big fast and when I was young. Now that could be because I cursed myself as my mother says… I used to make fun of my grandmother’s boobs hanging down to China and my mom said “be careful or you’ll get bigger boobs that she has”. Well mom was right. Big Big Boobs.

I was 120 lbs all through my 20’s. I wore a size 6 jeans, my arms were not bird wings and my chin was a single chin. I was also living in Los Angeles where god forbid you have 1 % more body fat than you should have – you were fat shamed.  My weight was never a concern back then.

After I got married, we moved to Portland Oregon. The weather was rainy 360 days of the year. I became sedentary. I swear the start of the weight gain is Portland’s fault. It was gloomy, no one waxes so i literally didn’t wax my legs because my legs never saw the light of day. In Portland I discovered home made biscuits…so maybe Pine Street Biscuits was the culprit. Fucking biscuits like a warm yummy carb that I could have just attached to my ass. Ok 4 years in Portland and ok so I wasn’t a 6 anymore….I was crawling to a 10 or 12. Eeks!!!

Herein lies the bigger problem. I was never a girl who worries about weight. I never really cared like others. I gained weight and bought bigger clothes. I wasn’t hung up on my body or looks or made decisions to go on “diets”.

We moved to New York City where one would think that all the walking the locals do that the weight I gained would fall off. Instead we found an apartment on 82nd St and I opened an office first on 84th and then 81st. So my life was kinda 4 blocks. I hated the subway. I truly believe that the world will come to an end and I will be underground. So UBER was my fat fairy princess.

My favorite place is the Natural History Museum. They have scales of what you’d weight on different planets. On Mars I weight 12lbs. I want to move to Mars.

Then I got diagnosed with lupus and along with that came steroids and any exercise stopped. The steroids are evil – just plain evil. I could open my mouth and swallow air and I would gain 5 pounds.

I am now the heaviest I have EVER EVER been. Like I am the weight of some of the contestants on Biggest Loser. I am in a catch 22. Between Fibromyalgia*** and arthritis I can’t work out. I have allowed this weight to consume me. Maybe even protect me. I was watching the security camera footage the other day and say this blob in black walking towards the goat shed and freaked when I realized it was me! WTFFFFFFFFF????

So each week I say “this is the week”. But by Monday morning at 11 all I want is a bagel and cream cheese. My intentions are always solid but fuck I have zero commitment. Which is so funny because if I put as much effort into my body as I do into everything else in my life or other people’s lives then I would be Twiggy. I know everyone sees the gain and says nothing. I know what they think. I also know I am the “fat” friend.

The holidays are upon us where food is the focus. I have decided to try BABY steps. Joining my husband at the gym and walking on the treadmill for 10 minutes. I can build from there. I will try eliminating one thing that is fattening from my food intake and start there. I am not going to shout it out to the world as I have been known to do…I am just quietly slowly going to make it my new year’s mission to be healthier. To stop smoking. To not wheeze as I walk up the stairs. To not have chins but a single chin.

I’m almost 47 years old and I need to stop caring about what others see and just see me. Sometimes I wish some people in my life would treat me like I am adult and am clearly making my decisions good or bad – or would care more abut my health and disease I fight everyday than my weight. I have gone from the girl who didn’t care to now it’s all I think about. I am not a complainer – I struggle with lupus and fibro everyday and yet my weight is what you can see – lupus and fibro you can’t. Maybe it’s a lesson for others who don’t know what it feels like to struggle with autoimmune diseases.

Fuck I digress – I just need to be the best me I can be. Simple as that.

Sharing this was cheaper than therapy so thank you.

*** Fibromyalgia. I just want to say those commercials suck ass. I am not dancing around my living room, or painting landscapes in my garden. I am not smiling as I walk with my husband down the stairs in Rome while on my vacation. I stab myself with their epipen (OK I lied – someone else stabs me in the thigh) and it hurts so bad I see stars. I dread the shot every time and wish the ads showed a woman writhing in pain from the fibro and the shot. Which BTW costs $2K a shot without insurance. I’d say the only one dancing in this whole thing are the pharma companies.