The start.

 

These photos have been saved as a draft on here for weeks. I found this card shortly before Christmas, and to be really real… I sobbed. I lost it. It still makes me cry as I sit here, weeks later, and think about the little girl who sat down with her mother (the drawings with words are mostly hers) and made this card. I must only be five or six in this photo. I wonder what I thought at the time. Was I proud? How long had the focus been on my body, my weight?

I know without a doubt in my heart that my mother’s intentions were good. I know that. But does it surprise anyone after seeing this card that I’ve struggled with my weight and food my entire life? Because I’m not surprised at all. And maybe that’s where my tears come from. Knowing, finally, where things went wrong. I don’t blame this on my mother, please don’t get me wrong… But I wonder how differently my life would be if the focus had been put somewhere other than my weight.

I think this is evidence of my first diet. Until my adult life, I cannot think of a time when I wasn’t on a diet. Christ, I’m still on a diet. My whole life has been about my weight. How sad is that?

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