I’ve struggled with my weight. All my life.
When my family returned to Taiwan after living in North America for 8 years, I was 11. The sales lady from the clothing store took one look at me and shook her head disapprovingly. “No ekes, ekes, ello – you too big. We no have your sizee.”
Even though I have athletic tendencies and enjoy various sports, I am very much a couch potato, a book worm, an all-day administrator desk person… After the birth of my first son, the pounds melted away from nursing and lack of sleep, but that didn’t happen after the second. At nearly 200 pounds, my body ached all over, I panted after running up two flights of stairs at the subway station and I could barely keep up with my ‘real’ full time job at work and my second full time job taking care of my children.
“Mommy, when I turn my head to look at you, I can see your tummy sticking out. Is there a baby in there?”
My parents were worried about my health, my BFF offered to do some gym training and my husband checked on me at 10 pm to make sure I wasn’t succumbing to all the fast food commercials, poking my head in the fridge and eating the kids’ lunches for the next day.
“Hey, your mommy is here to pick you up!” “No, my mommy’s at work.” “She’s got glasses, she has black hair and she’s fat.” “Oh yeah, that’s my mom.”
The stress of decision-making at work coupled with feeling like an inadequate mother led to stress eating, which led to feeling bad about myself, which led to more stress, which also led to worsening health and so on. I was in my early 40s and my mind and body were falling apart.