To the poster who said this thread was like a wreck was right, I couldn't stop reading! I also would like to agree with all of you who said family is the worst at hurting us. Do they feel entitled or something?
Let's see... mine...
Age 7 (barely starting to gain weight from being a twiggy kid): I tell my parents I wanted to be a ballerina like my Nana. My mom told me they'd support me in whatever I wanted to do, but my dad snorted and said I'd look like a hippo in a tutu like on Fantasia and he wouldn't be shelling out money for me to embarass myself and the family like that.
Age 10: While at KFC with my grandma, she asks what I want and I tell her something with mashed potatoes and corn, please. She disgustedly says that mashed potatoes will make me even fatter, and what else do I want? I say nothing and sulk through the whole meal (don't remember what she got me). For reference, here was me that year (I'm wearing the white shirt):
I was freaking SKINNY! Those are my cousins, the one I'm next to I've been compared to for a looooong time... she stayed that skinny. I, obviously, didn't.
Age 11: After flipping through some huge toy catalog, I desperately wanted a Polly Pocket Vacation Property. My dad made me a deal: he'd buy it for me if he could put me on a diet. Eyes on the prize, I agreed. His idea was extreme, but I didn't care, I just wanted my toy. For a MONTH I was given all the celery I could eat, and allowed to drink nothing but water. I kept it up, which amazes me. This was during school and as malnourished as I was, I kept pretty good grades. Kids would tease me for bringing a big container of celery to lunch with me. Why tease me, I asked? At least I'm doing something about my weight. You'll always be a jerk. That usually shut them up. I dearly missed my pizza and ranch-soaked fries, but again, eyes on the prize.
Toward the end, I was craving carbs so bad I cried. My dad had finally left the house (which he never did!) and I very ritualistically placed one slice of wheat bread in the toaster, and when it was ready, slowly and deliberately enjoyed every morsel. Shortly thereafter, my dad came back home, smelled the toast, and told me if I was going to break my diet I'd always be a fat cow, never have a boyfriend, and never be thin and pretty like my mama and boys would never like me. Yay family support, right?
He grounded me for the rest of the day, tossed me a container of celery in water, and told me I was only allowed to leave my room to go to the bathroom.
But it's OK, I got the Polly Pocket Dream Vacation Property. Screw 'im.
I cannot, however, stomach celery, even 13 years later...
Age 15: Got it in my head that since my best friend was anorexic, I could be, too. I stopped eating and passed out a few times when walking with my boyfriend.This didn't last long, just a few weeks. He had no idea what was going on... His brother decided it would be a great idea to tell me that the dance we'd all be attending was a perfect time to dedicate a song to me. At first I thought it was so sweet, until he told me he would dedicate "Larger Than Life" and strted doing a sumo move.
Also age 15: In nursing class, it was National Eating Disorder week. I didn't know quite how to handle it, given the cycles I'd been through since I was 7. I felt the worst for a classmate who'd just gotten out of IP for Anorexia. The two of us bonded because even though we had opposite body types, we shared the exact same views on food, ED's and fat. Our principal came in to talk to the class about her struggle with Anorexia. Stephanie and I kept looking at each other with this pained look. Both of us were afraid to hear it. Both of us ended up triggered and started doing stupid, unhealthy things again. It was dumb but I felt this unspoken competition with her. I weighed 100 lbs more than she did... wtf?
Age 16: My boyfriend and I went with his parents to a ranch where we all rode horses. The ranch lady looked worried and when she thought I wouldn't hear her, made a snide comment that I'd better not break her horse's back. I weighed 100 lbs less than I do now. Haven't ridden a horse since.
Age 17: My dad tells me that I am a "worthless fat fuck". The next day I signed up for the tennis team. I also stopped eating again. I was the worst one on the team and I didn't care. I didn't have the oomph to put in enough effort to excel, the point was I was doing what I could to lose some of my fatness. I subsisted on an orange a day, a very small orange, and that was eaten- nay, savored- right before tennis practice so I could have a bit of energy and not pass out. And if I did, when they asked if I'd eaten anything I could say yes and not lie. When we ran laps around the courts to warm up, I pretended to ignore the kids walking home from school hollering things like "Fat girl's gonna cause an earthquake!" and "No wonder the courts are cracked!"
Age 18: I had to have a Phys Ed credit to graduate, much as I loathed the idea. Only class left was lifeguarding. I was the only big girl by any means. The teacher made it pointedly clear, in front of the whole class, that I wouldn't be able to dive for drowning victims "because fat floats".
Age 20: My step-mom had a heart attack and I was nominated to fly to the nearest big-city hospital with her. The EMT's were freaking out because I weighed so much, they didn't want to crash. 242, people. Could be a lot worse.
Age 21: While shopping to restock our entire kitchen after a bad blackout, I hd a cart full of food and this lady comes up to me in the store, looks in my basket, and says, "Well SOMEONE'S hungry!" and starts laughing with her companion. Astonished, I said, "Umm no, I'm restocking a kitchen. Since when is what I buy any of your business, anyway?" Taken aback, she stammered, "I just wish I had someone to shop for me!" I looked in her cart just as nosily and obviously and said indignantly, "Looks like you're doing a fine job for yourself." and walked off. Inside I was screaming and shaking, and burst into sobs the second I got to my car.
Age 23: I help with the Hot Air Balloon Regatta because my boss has arranged a trip up for me. When time comes, they pull me aside and tell me I can't go up because I'm too big. I pretended to be cool with it, went home and bawled. Went to work and bawled whenever anyone aske me how my trip up was. My boss went back the next day and gave them a piece of her mind, then arranged a trip with another balloon owner. It was a blast and he was great, even said the other people were jerks, that he'd had much bigger passengers than me, and to just relax and enjoy the ride. :p
Age 24: Me, my boyfriend, one of my best friends (same size as me) and her husband went to the carnival and got on the Gravitron. The operator made us spread out since we'd throw the ride off all being grouped together.
I could go on and on. Life as a fat girl has sucked hardcore.
Deanna~ Banded April 19th, 2007~305.5/189
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