What I have learned these last few months, is that nothing comes easy. That, and if I lie to myself, things will only backfire and turn out worse for me than they were at the beginning. It’s very easy to blame others for your wrongdoings. It’s easy for me to wake up and say I’m fat, I hate myself, so and so did this to me. Nothing will ever change until I actually, really admit that I am my own problem. My entire life, I’ve been blaming others for my faults. I blamed my mom for not giving me enough attention, I blamed my “father” for not being around, which caused me great psychological pain, I blamed teachers for making fun of me and calling me stupid, and blamed kids for everything else that was wrong with me.

My mom, the one who I always fought with, the one who I told ruined my life, the one that I said I hated time and time again, now turns out to be my best friend. She may still give me those motherly looks sometimes, but I know, deep down, aside from all those stupid faces and comments she may give, she appreciates me for me, and sees me for what I really am; for that child model I should have been years ago. All jokes aside, she’s one of few who have pushed me to keep going, and who truly believes I can do this. What can I blame her for? Being honest? Telling me I was fat? She was just pointing out the truth. It’s not like I didn’t see it. Maybe she wasn’t saying it in the nicest way, but she did not cause me to be fat. Her words did not put the food in my mouth. My own greasy McDonalds fingers did.

“Father”, left when I was two. No idea who he is. He calls me to tell me he loves me and misses me regularly, but to be honest, I don’t really know him. While some people may be quick to diagnose me with “Daddy Issues”, I think I’m stronger than that. I had a mom who was a father to me as well. I didn’t have a dad to buy me a car, or to run to when my mom was mean to me. Doesn’t mean the lack of his presence is the reason I’m fat.  I think being the child of a single mother makes me stronger, and makes me learn from my strong mother. That man who calls himself my father, in the end- really did absolutely nothing for me. Didn’t teach me anything, didn’t teach me values in life. I guess if he didn’t have the power to do anything for me, how could he have had the power to make me fat? In my eyes, he was powerless- therefore, can’t blame him either.

Teachers and peers were not nice in school. While I was always tall for my age, I knew I stood out. I started to get bigger when I was younger, and while stealing lunch from little kids, I guess that’s when I start to balloon. I did it to myself. I asked to be called Hillary Germs, and I asked the teachers not to like me. Teachers really didn’t like me because I was awkwardly tall, and had to stand next to them in school pictures. I was a really cute kid, and probably took the attention off them which made them really upset and not want to like me. Just a thought. I stole snacks from kids lunches, I didn’t participate in activities because I was lazy.

It’s time I stop blaming others, and just beat this disease once and for all. Feeling sorry for myself won’t make me lose weight. Looking in the mirror, and telling myself that I am fat won’t make the weight fall off. I could have turned this all around and said my mom, absent father, teachers and bullies were the reason why I am fat. No one sat me down and forced cheeseburgers down my throat, no one told me I had to take snacks from kids. No one told me I had to closet eat. No one told me I had to sneak to a fast food chain at 2:00 am.

I did it to me. I have no one to blame but me. Now that I have accepted this, I know that I can do this weight loss journey. While I have stalled, a stall is not my reason for failure, a stall should be a reminder for me to wake the f!@ up and get back on track.

The Blame Game

I think the hardest part of growing up, was being the odd child. I had a brother and a “sisterly friend” (her words, not mine) who both had the bodies of anorexic looking barbies. The two of them would be able to eat whatever they wanted, and Ronnie and Gordon gave the two of them snacks whenever they wanted.That is so unfair. When I wanted a snack, I’d get this stern NO, and maybe a carrot thrown in my face.

I don’t want to blame anyone for the reason why I am the way I am, however, the entire family; Ronnie, Gordon, Buffy and Ethel would hide food from me. They went so far as to hide whippets in Buffys safe in his bedroom. Needless to say, I broke in, and got all those whippets. I don’t even like those cookies, the marshmallows are gross. It was just for the thrill, and because they wanted to hide it from me, I wanted it more. When I was somewhere around 10 years old, my mom fought so hard to get me to not hit the hundred pound mark. (Right now I’d kill to weigh 100 pounds) I was seeing dieticians, going to Weight Watchers, doing sports which really didn’t interest me. Finally when I did hit 100 pounds, it all went downhill from there, (or shall I say uphill). I just kept eating. I’m still not sure if it was because I was bored or if it was because I wanted to play a fun activity like “unlock-the-food-safe”. I’m still figuring that one out.

Anyway, the lesson here is, don’t hide food from your kids, they’ll find it elsewhere, and gain an extra eighty pounds, and none of that weight gain would be from whippets left in the cupboard where they should be.