Blow Up Doll

Believe it or not - all through elementary school my nickname was Olive Voyl, because I was skinny as skinny could be. My mom was short and she always got admiring looks and was/is considered a very attractive woman. She never mentioned diet, weight, etc. It was just not something I grew up with. Now we always mentioned eating properly. Being in the nation, there was a slew of things we didn't eat and we fasted during Ramadan and we didn't eat alot of junk cause back then yo momma cooked nightly.

I hit my growth spurt when I was about 11 but it ended just as quickly. I was 5'2 and weighed 110 pounds straight through HS and college. I never had any self esteem problems about my weight or anything. Never even crossed my mind - especially not when every other square inch of you was CORNY AS HELL! Dealing with the coke bottle glasses took up most of my time. I always have had KILLER legs and a end table ass (as oppose to the ever sought after coffee table ass). I rocked a 34C all during this time as well - so the 'girls' were quite perky as well. I had NO figure issues.

I can tell you the exact timeframe when Food and I took an ugly turn. It was the first year of my marriage and I was living in NY and I didn't know a soul and I was soooooo lonely. I was trying to adjust to married life, the huge city and so I would be cooking and munching or we would be going out and eating at all these fabulous restaurants. Now my late husband (RIP) weighted 120 pounds soaking wet with an entire submarine attached to his ankle - so his eating habits were a mute point. Towards the end of our marriage it was a Jack Sprat kinda situation.

Fast forward to his death - I laid out the following things my credit cards and my fridge and like the drug they both are - I began mainlining..both. and I am still feeling the residule of them....both.

All of a sudden I looked up and I was a plus size lady, with regular (because I never considered myself thin) size perception. Like alot of people - I went into deep denial about me weight. (EXAMPLE ONE) I have been blessed with very tight skin - so as I gained weight I just became luscious/rounded/volumpous. I fell in love with my still perky 38C breasts! God blessed my family, stretch marks light and barely noticable, small wrists and ankles, very pretty hands - I was still in love with me - so the body image wasn't distorted YET. I was fustrated all in the same. I glanced over at my mom and she and I were identical twins by this time. I looked at some family photos and I became a part of a triplet set me, my mom, my Aunt. We all were the same height and weighed the same. As merciful as God has been to my family in the way of 'looks' he did curse us one way however - He pointed all of our weight to our.....midsections. We are all short and squatty!!! WTF?! I am 5'2 1/2 and if I were 5'6 - I guess I'd be out of control, so He IS the best knower.

"You Have Type 2 Diabetes" - well there you have it, I'm gonna stroke out or have a heart attack. I got on it - I lost 49 pounds and was doing well. I should have followed the proper order of acceptance because for three years I was on a roll and then I went into deep denial and now my weight and my diabetes are out of control - as I struggle to get it back together.


Lo and Behold - bigger women are being catered to, celebrated and accepted! We got flyyy clothes, we got sexy lingerie, we got beauty pagents and magazine and shows, we got Oprah, Monique, and Queen Latifah looking glamourous and more glamourous!

I still am a BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. My breast sit up without a bra, my end table ass has suddenly gotten some roundness, I have a cutie pie face and I am rocking big cutie pie hair to go with it. Yet, I can do so much better. Why would I get to the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow and then try to kill myself so I can't even enjoy it. I am ashamed that I lost control.

It's a struggle, I need to get dissatisfied, I need to get angry, I need to get some of this weight off! but instead I make chili cheese dog nachos, smile, get cuddles from my man and teach HIGH SELF ESTEEM to my daughter - nobody can see me sweat!

GOD GIVE ME THE STRENGTH TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF MYSELF! (or at least - save up for a tummy tuck)