My Name Is Jeany and I Am a Fat Woman
A Cause for Resolution
On New Year’s Eve, 2011, my husband and I had a small party at our house. We invited three couples we’ve become close to in recent months, as well as one of my single girlfriends and one of my husband’s single male friends. Without giving a lot of thought to this gathering, I whipped together some nacho cheese dip, sandwiches, and cookies. We also set out a couple bowls of pretzels and other snacks just in case anyone got hungry.
About an hour before the party was to start, I dressed in an ocean-blue sweater and jeans. I even straightened my hair and, after fixing my makeup, figured I looked as good as possible. And then I went downstairs to wait for our guests.
The first arrival was my girlfriend Sydney. She was early, and we headed for the living room to chat about her latest dating disaster. She then proceeded to tell me about her recent trip to the bar, where several men hit on her and complimented her “hot body.” While telling me these stories, she seemed to be in her element and even confessed her jean size (10).
I wear a size 16, and most of my pants are getting pretty tight around the waist. It's probably safe to say my jean size is more than a 16... I'm just afraid to admit it.
So, as Sydney chatted animatedly about her trip to the bar and her other girlfriend who’s even thinner than she, four more of our guests streamed in. The first was a woman who burst into my living room and proudly announced she’s lost a total of 35 pounds in the last six months. She showed off her new, trim self by twirling around for everyone’s benefit, and still I sat on the couch.
I need to mention at this point that before the start of the party, I changed my shirt five times because none of my clothes fit me anymore. While I would LIKE to say the problem is that they were all too big, they are in fact much too small - adorable shirts that I hang on to simply because 1) I like them too much to part with them, and 2) I keep hoping and praying that someday I will wear them again.
By the end of the party, my confidence had shrunk to absolutely nothing. I was so self-conscious of my own weight that I struggled to find any enjoyment in the evening.
The Morning After
The next morning, when I woke up, I finally made the decision to stop the habits that have made me feel so awful. No more will I snack on a bag of potato chips while working on the computer, and no longer will I drink two cans of pop every day just because I like the taste! In particular, no longer will I put off exercise because I believe I don’t have the time, because the truth is - each passing day is yet another I’ve spent loathing the way I look.
Uncomfortable in My Own Skin
I don’t enjoy shopping anymore, and I’m even to the point that going out to dinner is a painful experience because I’m so uncomfortable in my own skin. I avoid photographs at all costs, and I constantly feel like others are judging me because of my weight. And besides, I’m tired of the comments from others, too. In recent years I’ve heard any number of remarks about my weight that I don’t want to hear anymore. At the very heart of this, though, I’m simply tired of feeling bad about myself.
It’s a terrible thing to look at yourself in the mirror and hate what you see, and although I know women of all walks across the globe struggle with this very thing, I don’t want to be the source of this hatred anymore. By living a sedentary lifestyle and over-indulging in every kind of junk food imaginable, I’ve set myself up for health problems and a flabby body. Only I have the ability to change all of this.
By making simple adjustments to my diet, and deciding once and for all to engage in some exercise, it’s very possible that I can lose weight and stop seeing myself as the “fat woman.” I will keep you posted from week to week with my progress, and I warmly welcome any words of encouragement or sharing of personal stories.