Can we talk about The Struggle?

I’ve been listening to Adele’s album “30” since it came out last month and this may even be a shameless plug but I don’t care. I’m just so appreciative of how open and vulnerable she was with the struggle of overcoming an extremely rough period in her life. So I’ll take note and peel back a layer. I’ve been in this struggle for so long though. It’s been a lifetime struggle. No, not the struggle of life in general. No, not the struggle of marriage. No, not the struggle of being a black woman. No, not the financial struggle of adulting. I’m talking about the weight loss struggle. If you’ve never struggled with your weight, you may not identify with anything I’ll go on to say but I guarantee you, you know someone that can identify. I was always the chubby kid, the big girl with the fat cheeks. The cute butterball. My mother’s nickname for me is “phat baby”. It’s not an insult in the least bit, because it’s meant with nothing but love. So much so that I had it engraved into my high school class ring.

Weight never hindered me or stopped me from doing anything I wanted to do, including but not limited to, making friends, dating (or something like that), traveling, etc. However, the insecurity of being the bigger one always have remained in the back of my mind. I was apart of this community before fighting childhood obesity was ever a thing. My third grade teacher once invited me to her aerobics class. Yes, 3rd grade. I could go into a sob story about poverty, eating what was available and affordable, and name calling throughout childhood, etc. However, though all factors, I choose not to because I’m not one to point the blame at the world or my circumstances. I believe in accountability and no one ever shoved fried chicken and cookies down my throat. Besides, I would never give any human being the satisfaction of thinking that they had a negative toll on my life.

The earliest that I can remember seeing doctors for my weight is 8 years old. I was put on my first of many diets at this age. I had routine visits to be routinely tested for juvenile diabetes. I had doctors saying I was borderline a juvenile diabetic and others saying I would develop the disease as I got older. Well, your girl is 30 and NOT a diabetic. Glucose level is doing just fine. Thank you! Take that Dr. Mitchell! Nevertheless, I’m wise enough to know that favor does run out, and if the same bad behavior continues then it eventually won’t produce good results. When I was 16, the pediatrician that I was seeing at the time gave me a sheet of paper with a diet on it. It listed all the instructions and stated that it was actually given to cardiac patients that needed to lose weight quickly before heart surgery. If you google it, I believe it’s now titled “The Military diet.” Anywho, my mother and I decided to start this diet together. In 3 weeks, we lost a combined total of about 38 pounds. For me personally, it was 16 pounds. This was the first weight loss EVER in my life! My pediatrician was amazed and shocked and then told us that we were actually doing the diet wrong, teetering on the edge of starvation, because I was “not supposed to lose that much so quickly.” Girl what?! So losing weight quickly is just as dangerous as rapidly gaining it. About a month later, I had gained it all back and then some! The struggle.

I went on to college, honestly not paying much mind to my weight, because again it never stopped me from anything. I didn’t own a scale and only weighed at my yearly physicals. I could tell that I was losing only by the image in the mirror but I know that I would only gain it back by the feel in my clothes. The struggle. By 20, I had a new doctor and left the pediatricians behind. He’s actually the same doctor I have now. An older Asian fellow who has seen my weight go up and down and never once criticized me. When I went vegan for 11 days, he stayed neutral about it but warned that I could lose protein if I didn’t know what I was doing. It didn’t matter though, I only lasted 11 days of the planned 21. He encourages me to lose it “the right way” and always discourages quick fixes and trend diets.

Around age 22, I can’t exactly say what gave me the motivation to start a weight loss journey again but I want that same motivation now. I had a lot of exercise during the day because I interned at a hospital and walked around all day. I also made a decision to take my lunch daily and only eat home cooked meals. I worked out at night, did Hot Yoga classes, rowing classes, and Pilates. This carried on for about 3 years and I lost a little over 70 pounds. By far the most rewarding event in my life! At 24, I started working for a hospice company and did field work, which means I was on the road a lot and always ate lunch in the car. I then noticed those subtle changes again. I fell off track and gained about 30 pounds back. This was coupled with transitional life changes into adulthood and losing loved ones. The struggle. I was not happy to be going down this road again. One day as I was sitting in the car, I came across something about kickboxing. I spontaneously called the number and set up a consultation training session for that night. I joined the MMA/Kickboxing school that same night because I loved it. Kickboxing lasted for me for a year and a half. I was now 26 and had fell off track once again after losing about 30 pounds. I had job changes and was now in a serious relationship. Let me tell you, the whole “happy weight” relationship idea is a real thing. I somewhat welcomed stress every now and then because it would make me lose my appetite. Just kidding.

Time continued to move on and my weight continued to go up and down. I had planned to lose at least 10 pounds before my wedding. Ironically, on my wedding day, my dress was so hard to zip up, clearly reminding me that I had indeed gained what I intended to lose. The struggle. Over the last THREE years, 2019-2021, I’ve had my usual fluctuations but I’ve also now hit the heaviest point that I’ve ever been. This can be coupled with: pandemic weight of just sitting home working, putting on weight for two pregnancies that ended without the promise of breastfeeding to take the weight BACK off, eating and moving less, traveling and trying ALL the foods, and an addiction to sugar. Sweets keep me in a chokehold.

This year I’ve considered everything from surgery to getting on the powder, cocaine that is (Jussttt kidding). I saw someone so eloquently describe it as “the devil’s dandruff.” I joke with my mother about it, because I know if a few bumps of cocaine won’t do it then some puffs of crack will surely get me where I want to be physically. She laughs it off and always remind me, “you can do it, you’ve done it before.” But last month, I think I was mentally at a low because I hated what I saw in the mirror and I did NOT feel like I could do it. I mean just truly in a dark space about self-image. I hated how far I had let any of my progress waste. I cried because I felt stuck in between wanting to make a change and having little to no motivation to do so. Society talks about self love often but no one talks about the fluctuation of that love. That there will be good days and bad days. That some moments are harder to push through than others, making it hard to find that love.

Without a doubt, you do have to love yourself at your lowest so that when you reach your highest it only grows greater. I also pray about it and I know God hears me. That very same day, in 3 different communication outlets (TV, Twitter, and a podcast) I received the message All is Well. Regardless of the struggle, all is well. I don’t like pity, self-pity, or wallowing in misery so after I cry I’m usually back to the business. Otherwise, I would send myself to the deepest pit of depression and make it difficult to climb out. I’ve pretty much canceled out surgery because of a horror story I heard on Tik Tok. Although, my husband did say we can get lipo together and take each other bandages off. That was his form of support. Gotta love him! *insert eye roll* The struggle. The powder is out because of the whole being illegal or whatever and because…my girl Whitney Houston. Nonetheless, I did mention Adele’s newest album earlier. One of my favorite songs on the album is To Be Loved. It brings tears to me every time I listen. She’s pouring her heart out about a failed marriage but I heard it differently about my own struggle. “To be loved and love at the highest count/Means to lose all the things I can’t live without/Let it be known that I will choose to lose/It’s a sacrifice, but I can’t live a lie/Let it be known, let it be known that I tried.”

To my BBWs or anyone dealing with the weight loss struggle, continue to love yourself even as the bigger one and even as we go on and off this path of being healthier. Even as the bigger one, you still shine and don’t let anyone tell you different. I’m the same one that competed in a kickboxing tournament and earned a belt, even as the bigger one. Same one that broadcasted pictures of herself in bathing suits on social media, even as the bigger one. I’ll be here starting on the journey yet again but knowing that despite what may come of it, all is well.

“Hold on. Let time be patient. You are still strong. Let pain be gracious. Love will soon come. Just hold, hold on.” – Adele Laurie Blue Adkins

Peace & Love

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