Fat Girl Problems


 

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Ok, so it’s not like it takes a rocket scientist to get that we all have problems. I like to think of myself as having the worst kind of problems- FAT GIRL PROBLEMS. While some people may think that I’m overreacting, most of us actually have a lot of fat girl problems! 

I figured the easiest way to separate the majority of my issues was by season!

Summer:

1) Getting into strangers/friends/family members car… never fun when you’re wearing short shorts… It happens to me quite often because I’ve got hot legs and I know it. Anyway enough about my gorgeous legs. When summertime comes, I turn into a sweaty whale and my body thinks it’s cool to start sweating like effing Super Aqua Club. Whenever I’m the passenger in someones car, they ALWAYS have leather seats! Why can’t people be cheap and get the fabric seats so I don’t need to show my sweaty butt cheek marks when I leave their car. So not cool. Also, with the sweat thing, sometimes I wish I had no hair. I sweat and my hair always looks wet. I always get the “Oh Hey! You’re doing the wet hair look, so nice” and I’m all like “Oh Hey, You’re doing the I-just-got-out-of-bed look, right?” Don’t be rude people. Fat people sweat, more than others. I’m going for the sweaty hair look by the way.

 

2) Ice cream. I just love ice cream. If I could, I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. To be honest, I’m not so much into the actual ice CREAM part, but I like the yogurt better (I wish it was me being healthy, but it’s actually that the taste is better) I’m not sure if this whole froyo thing is a new thing in Montreal, or if it’s going on everywhere, but anywhere I look, there’s a new frozen yogurt store. Like literally on every corner! Everyone around me is Instagramming their latest cute frozen yogurt inventions with fruit and granola toppings and I’m here like  getting a behemoth sized portion and top it with pop tarts, brownies and high fat sprinkles. But I swear it’s been over a year since I’ve decorated my $20 frozen yogurt like a horse.

Fall:

1) All the skinny girls are wearing Uggs, and I want to wear Uggs too. How is it that after only three months with mine they look like they’ve gone through a hike through the rainforest and I look at everyone else’s and theirs are all nice with no salt stains -and their interior fluff is still nice and fluffy. I don’t know if maybe it’s just me, but I am such a klutz! (For those of you non Jewish term friends of mine, a klutz is a clumsy or stupid person this according to the dictionary, not me.) I always manage to walk into puddles, or wear them on the one day in the fall that it snows and then I get salt stains all over them. Anyway, Uggs last me 6 months, when they last the normal Ugg-Wearer 6 years?

2) In the fall comes Halloween. Halloween is my second least favorite holiday of the year. November 1st is my most hated day of the year. Half Price Candy Day. When all the delicious ungodly Halloween mini treats go on sale. Who even invented the whole knocking on peoples door and getting cute bite-sized candy? Why is Halloween a time when stores become filled with yummy snack sized delicious chocolate bars and candies. It’s like those candies are trying to haunt me and make it a scary Halloween for me- how rude! Just saying!

3) Also, in the fall, right before the ungodly snow comes, I’m in denial about winter coming, so I still stick with my summer wardrobe. Since I sweat like a horse in church, I think it works out perfectly for me and I’m happy about it. I still get stares, but it’s because I’m pretty.

Spring:

I hate spring for one reason, and one reason only. It’s gym season. I am fat. I hate the gym. The gym makes me feel like I am an asthmatic old lady on a treadmill dying a slow and painful death. I can only imagine how special I look when I’m working out. Before I go out in public, I usually make an effort, to put on some makeup, brush my hair, look presentable. When it comes to the gym, it’s just like I didn’t even try, and I’m in there to be miserable! I mean, I know it’s good for me and all, but I just don’t like it. I don’t like running because everything wiggles and jiggles and I just look like I should be in the circus. I will stop being so hard on myself now- If I can like doing one thing at the gym it would be weight lifting. I seriously enjoy doing weights though. I look in the mirror, and I see my exposed collar bones, and my muscles in my arm coming in, and then I’m all like “Ok, I guess I like it”. I guess at the end of the day I can’t really make up my mind about the gym. I love it, but I hate it. It’s good for me, but it’s … good for me.

Winter

1) Ungodly winter. Winters in Canada are not fun. Winters in general are not fun. Unless you’re a snowman and you like to freeze and get frostbites all day, then winter is super fun! As I am still in denial about the seasons changing, I do not dress properly for the winter. I continue to wear leggings, and t-shirts, and see-through blouses. Winter does not look good wardrobe wise. When I actually need to dress for winter, I usually end up wearing capes and moomoos. It’s nothing attractive-trust me.

2) I like to bake. Because I’m hibernating for three months until the spring comes, I take it upon myself to turn into Betty Cocker. I bake everything. I don’t even like sweet foods since surgery, but I just like baking and to see what my delicious treats come out like- and then post a picture on Instagram, because that’s how I roll-obvi! . I don’t like COOKED treats, but I do like to lick the bowls and spoons when I’m done.

3) Winter sucks. I prefer to sweat

 

I could just be a really angry person, or I could just hate all seasons. Either way, I’m Jewish, and still technically obese, so I like to complain and I kinda have a lot of right to.

 

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My One Year Blogaverssary


 

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Today marks one year of my first blog post. One year ago, I was in a completely different place. I was just starting out by making people laugh about how fat I was and pretty much poking fun at myself. It’s been such an amazing year, and so many changes have happened. I’ve lost one of my triple chins, lost 6 pant sizes, and have smiled more this year than I have in the last ten.

I distinctively remember this day in 2012. November 26, 2012, I entered the hospital for my first ever INFO SESSION. Now, this info session, is a room full of plump people such as myself, with the nurses and doctors coming in to scare you with what to expect with your upcoming surgery. So what, they were going to cut my stomach open, big deal, I wasn’t scared. Then everything else started to sink in- the pills, my life after surgery, my clothes, my life in general.. everything. In the middle of the info session, I look up at the doctor, and he’s talking about all these complications, and I begin wondering if this surgery really is for me, or if I can actually do it on my own. I look around the room- a room full of overweight, discouraged people just like me, then back down at my stomach, while my triple chin hits my chest, and immediately I know that this is the last option for me.

I look down at my stomach now and still see the fat girl. I still am the fat girl. What people don’t realize is that it happens slowly. I don’t even realize it, and I’m trying to calm myself down everyday when I wake up every morning and realize that I’m still a fatass. Truthfully, I didn’t do all the research I should have done leading up to the surgery. I thought it would be a breeze, that I would lose all my weight by the summer, that I’d be able to wear a bikini. Truth is, I’m ten months out and I still am fat. I will be fat forever- maybe not physically, but mentally.

I’m so happy with what I’ve done, and I have learned to not let anyone judge me or make fun of me. I’ve learned that I am a special person, and I should be lucky for what I have. So what if I’m ten months out and haven’t lost all the weight, that doesn’t matter to me. I have come so far, and this has been the most magical year of my life.

During this whole blog life of mine, I’ve realized that people are asses. People are rude, and will really do anything to bring you down. In elementary and high school, I would hate writing, but look at me now- writing is my jam (I hate jam). I’ve learned that even if I’m losing weight, and even if I become 150 pounds, people will always have something to say or something to criticize about me. I’ve learned that no amount of weight loss will suffice to people who love me most. I have also learned that the young bullies from my childhood have and will always remain to be bullies forever. I have learned to love life, and to be happy. I have learned to love myself and learned to be happy with what I have. I have learned to realize who is really there for me, and to appreciate the love and attention I receive from my family and especially my boyfriend, and best friend, Donald. I have learned to taste food and not to devour it. I have learned to appreciate food and not devour it. I liked to devour food, what can I say.

Most of all, I have learned who I am, and I am proud of who I am. I can happily say that I am one hundred bajillion times happier today, than where I was on November 26 2012.

Thanks to everyone for their support and encouragement.

Screw You!


One thing I have learned post surgery, is learning to love me and learning to not let things that other people say, bother me. We all learned the sticks and stones in elementary school, we might as well practice what we were taught. When it comes to my blog, I have been told so many times that what I write  is offensive, or hurtful, or rude or mean. Frankly, I really don’t care. I also will not make this blog post to say the usual “it’s my blog, I’m going to say what I want” because I seem to say that a lot recently. But it is my blog, and I WILL say what I want.When it comes to my weight, I’ve been called every name imaginable, a pig, an oaf (I don’t even know what that means, it just sounds fat) lazy, dumb, stupid… everything.

The fat girl who used to be me, used to let people walk all over her. Used to be the person that cared too much what other people thought. I used to be so self conscious, I would bury myself in food because I didn’t want anyone to criticize me (look how that backfired, and look how far it got me! When someone insulted me, I would take it, and walk away without fighting back. Who does that? Who just takes that. Over the last nine months, I have learned to stand up for myself, and I have especially learned that the people who criticize, are the ones who have the most deep rooted issues. You see, friendly people of the blogging world, my so-called deep rooted issues, aren’t so deep. I’m not hiding anything, I’m not keeping anything a secret, or leaving it up to anyones imagination. I’m me, and shesjustpleasantlyplump.com is who I am! I say everything that comes to mind, every feeling, every emotion I have. I write it down. I truly believe that this has made me a stronger person and made me who I am today. Being able to openly discuss my struggles, and be comfortable enough to share my stories, and to share how I feel makes me a better person than anyone who has ever called me a name.

Whether it be someone on the street, a friend, a boss, whoever. People say hurtful things because they want to feel better about themselves. I’m no angel. I’ve spoken terribly about some people; but I will admit that the reasoning for that is because I’m masking something, and hiding other emotions. I’m not going to pull the Bully card out and feel bad for myself. I don’t choose to be bullied by those around me.

I use this post as one to stand up to those mean people. So here it goes, I don’t swear, so I will try to be as mean and tough as possible. To the people who are demeaning, and make you feel useless and worthless, screw you. To the people who sit behind their computer screens, and be bullies through e-mail or other social media avenues, screw you. To the people who choose to only see the bad in you, and the people who choose to believe that you’re nothing more than just a living thing, screw you.

 

I have made something of myself, and I have come so far. If you don’t like me, goodbye.

Just Say No To Cake, or Just 6 Bites!


Yesterday was my birthday, and the rest of the week is birthday week. In honor of birthday week, I gave myself the opportunity to go nuts. Well not really, because I didn’t eat the entire piece of cake. I guess I’m starting to see how this whole smaller stomach thing is working. I’ve trained myself to not finish the last bite, and to not eat until I want to throw up and die. My mom, for the first time ever, encouraged me to eat cake. She bought me my most favorite ice cream cake in the world. Mint Chocolate Chip. Just thinking about it kind of makes me want some more. I tasted it, had a couple of bites, and then was able to tell myself when to stop. I think that was my biggest accomplishment, and best birthday present to myself. Today at work, we had cake again for me, because I’m really special and people like to spoil me. I had Carrot Caramel Cheesecake. This cake is so delicious it needs its own blog post, but I won’t do that, because it’s an extremely fat thing of me to do. Anyway, this cake was the perfect combination of cheesecake and carrot cake. I ate six little bites. I savored each bite, and then I gave the rest of my leftovers to someone who was 2 pounds soaking wet and needed it more than I did.

I’m expecting candles in at least one meal per day until Sunday, considering this is birthday week. So far, I have accomplished a lot by not finishing the cake. It’s never the last bite, and at the end of the day, who needs an entire piece of cake– my fat bum sure doesn’t!

Helpful Tips For Full Stomach Sized People


Since my surgery, I have noticed a lot of changes. Changes in my body, in my health, in my breathing while walking up stairs, and also personality and my confidence. I’ve also noticed a lot of changes in the ways that others treat me. While I’m not trying to point fingers at anyone, there should be a couple of things that should be made clear:

1) People who have had weight loss surgery are people too. While we may be trying to lose weight, it doesn’t mean that we don’t have sweets, or treat ourselves once in a while. If I want to taste a cupcake, I will taste a cupcake. It is in absolutely positutely no way anyone elses place to tell me that I can’t have a cupcake, and/or give me a motherly face that cupcakes are bad for me. I know cupcakes are bad, and I know that I want to try one. Just a friendly reminder: I physically do not have room in my stomach to eat an entire cupcake, but I do have the room to satisfy myself with one teeny tiny bite. The old me would have been the closet eater self that I was, and not had any cupcakes at a family gathering – then when I’m sitting home alone on a Saturday night, I would instead have had a movie night with Ben and Jerry and my dear old friend Humpty Dumpty. I’m not out to sabotage my weight loss by one bite. I just want a measly taste.

2) When people say “You took the easy way out”. I’m sorry, you should rephrase your sentence, because this is in no way easy. There is nothing easy about parting with 85% of your stomach. There is nothing easy about learning to live life a new life, or learning a new way of eating. There is absolutely nothing easy in seeing an entire plate of food in front of you, knowing that you can’t physically eat it. It’s hard, and just because I had this surgery, does not give anyone the right to look me in the eye and say those words to me. The first thing I learned in my info session before weight loss surgery, was that this surgery needs to be used as a tool. The weight will not just fall off instantly and magically fit into a bikini overnight. What we see on TV, and in the magazines, are not what it’s like in reality. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone around me, unless you have lived through this, had any type of weight loss surgery, it does not give you the right to bash someone and accuse them of “taking the easy way out”.

3) When you say “you look so skinny!”, it’s super nice and all that you think that, but last I checked, I weighed 204 pounds, and according to my BMI chart, I am obese, nowhere near the “skinny” category. In fact, there is no such thing as a “skinny” category. There is morbidly obese; which I have happily moved on from, obese, overweight, normal and underweight. At this point in my life, I am obese, seriously, true story, and  I hate to break it to you, but it’s the truth. While I appreciate a flattering comment – at the end of the day, we both know I’m not skinny. I don’t ever want to be skinny. My goal is to be normal….and healthy. Skinny is just an overrated fad and really unflattering on most people.

4) I like snacks. Snacks are an important part of my diet. Considering the fact that I have the stomach the size of a baby banana, I get full quite easily, with a teensy bit amount of food. Just because I’m on a food schedule, doesn’t mean you need to mock or make fun when I get hungry at 11:00 am.

5) As mentioned weeks ago, the same way it’s impolite to ask someone when the last time they shaved their legs was, it’s equally as inappropriate to ask a person how much they weigh. I understand, I have a blog, I am sharing this for the world, everyone is curious. However, it is MY blog, and I share the details of my weight loss. When I want to share my weight, I will, if you are curious and I’m not in the mood to share,  then maybe you can sneak a scale under my feet somehow and find out for yourself, or back off? But as it stands now, just leave it, and when I want to mention something I will. Capeche?

Weight loss for anyone is not easy. Even without this tool it’s hard. Nothing in life is made to come easy. Sometimes people who haven’t had the surgery don’t know all these little fun facts I’ve shared today. Now we know, and now we can all treat each other like normal little individuals.

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My Constant Battle


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Obviously with weight loss surgery, comes struggles and battles. Battles such as, losing weight in general, learning to love yourself, making the right choices, not going to restaurants etc. Right now, my biggest battle is dealing with that dreadful question that every person asks me. Showing off my weight loss, and broadcasting it for the world to see, I am clearly asking for questions, and remarks etc, but sometimes, that one question just brings me down.

“How many pounds are you down?”. Why does everyone care about the number of pounds? To be honest, the number of pounds lost, is the least important part of the whole journey. We’re trained to think that the number lost is the most important part of a persons weight loss journey.  If you want to ask important questions, and receive positive replies from me, or anyone losing weight for that matter, you can ask questions like: “do you feel good about yourself?” , “are you happy?” , “do you notice a difference?”, other questions and comments about how great I look and how beautiful I am are really appreciated as well. While my weight loss number may not have changed in the last month, my pant size has decreased, and my confidence level has increased. The scale is an evil tool that really only helps in bringing you down. Why should we care about the number? What’s so important about it? If I’m getting on the scale, and notice that I’ve lost two pounds, I’m going to treat myself, because I’ve lost. Had I not known about this little two pound weight loss, I would have continued on my merry little way and not treat myself to any treats. I’ve gone from the morbidly obese category, to just plain obese. That is HUGE! That’s an accomplishment in itself.

I personally feel that whenever someone asks me how many pounds I lost, I get discouraged. In my mind I think, “only xxx pounds lost in 6 months?, that’s terrible, you could have done so much better”. But I know that when I look at pictures, and when I see myself in the mirror, it’s more than just the number. Muscle weighs more than fat, and if I’m going to the gym 4+ times a week, obviously my weight loss will be less than a person who wouldn’t be working out.

Maybe some people don’t know, maybe it doesn’t bother anyone, but personally I think that this “number” is really an unimportant part of the whole process. I am proud to say that I am happy where I am. I am proud with how far I’ve come, and I’m proud to say that I’ve met my goals. I may be taking my time, but at least I can proudly say that I haven’t gained a single pound in six months!

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6 months post op. Side shot.

Today Is The Fourth!


One thing I’ve realized, is that you’re not truly ready to do something until you’re ready to do it for yourself. When I started on my diets fifteen years ago, I only did them to make my mom or the rest of my family proud. It makes sense that in the end, all of these diets were sabotaged, and I ended up ballooning instead of shrinking.

From February 4th 2013, I made it my mission, that everything I did, I would do it for myself. If I wasn’t serious about doing it for myself, then it ultimately wouldn’t happen. While I love each and every persons support, and it means so much; I now realize that I’m not doing this to please other people. I am doing this to make myself happy.

I have never been more happy than I have been today. I can finally say that I love myself, that I am happy when I look in the mirror, and that I wouldn’t change a thing about me. If I had to stay where I was today, at 208 pounds, then fine; let it be. I’m healthier than I’ve been in forever, I’m happier, and I have a reason to wake up every morning.

I am tired of trying to please others. I’m happy I took the time to do it for myself, because look who’s smiling now.