Confessions of a Fat Girl

Okay, you're probably looking at my picture on this blog and thinking "Fat? Yeah, right!" So maybe I look like I dine on veggie burgers more often than I dine on prime rib, but the truth is, I'm actually a fat girl on the inside.

Back up a few years to 2003. I weighed (gulp) 167 pounds and continuing to gain. I had, in fact, almost exceeded my all time weight high. While some of you are scornfully thinking that 167 pounds isn't so bad, you have to consider the package that it came in. If you're five feet nine inches tall, then 167 pounds isn't that bad. However, if, like me, you are four feet eleven inches tall, reaching 167 pounds would actually put you in the category of "obese" (believe it or not). I had been overweight for about 13 years at that point, having begun to gain weight after graduating from high school (that amounts to about 5 lbs. per year, give or take a few). Sometimes I jokingly blamed the weight on the three babies I carried, but deep down I knew I had been fat before I even got pregnant the first time.

People often like to analyze fat people, you know, try to determine why it is that they are fat. What drives a fat person to eat? Was she not loved enough as a child? Is she trying to fill some kind of an emotional need? Is there something missing in her life that she is trying to compensate for by over-eating? Ladies and gentleman, I am here to tell you that I am just not that complex a person. I ate because I REALLY liked food. That's it. I was not neglected or abused as a child. I had a great life, an adoring husband, wonderful children, a house, enough money, lots of friends, you name it. My problem was that I was addicted to food.

Maybe you can relate? And guess what... even though I lost over 40 pounds I unfortunately didn't lose my taste for food. Don't ask me how I did it... to this day I'm not sure how I managed to avoid the Doritos aisle for so long. And don't even get me started on Krispy Kreme donuts, a delicacy I still crave often (thank God the nearest Krispy Kreme is like 45 minutes away from my house or I'd probably have gained all 40 plus pounds back by now). Though I'm skinny on the outside (not Hollywood or runway model skinny, but healthy skinny) I'm still a fat girl on the inside. I know that I'm just a couple of cream puffs away from falling off the wagon, and though I've only gained back five of those pounds that I lost, I know it wouldn't take much to find my way back to obesity. Like alcohol or drug addiction, I know I will be a food addict for the rest of my life. Hello, my name is Jenny and I'm a food addict. I admit it. Do you know how hard it is to be a Pastor's wife when you're a food addict? Every Baptist gathering culminates in some sort of a food-eating ritual. We're synonymous with potlucks and other food-laden events. I can't even go to church on Sunday without walking by the pastry-strewn coffee bar in the lobby. The church is rife with temptation for the food addict, which might be unfortunate, but I don't think you can even be Baptist if you don't serve food at every event.

So, acknowledging my inner fat girl, I press onward, politely ignoring the strawberry tartlets, slices of apple pie, and fudge-covered brownies thrust in my direction. Don't be offended if I don't try your great-grandmother's famous prize-winning trifle. It's nothing personal.

(Reprinted from a previous blog.)