I'm not really fat. Okay, maybe a little.

How I got where I am now:

In my late teens I was all of 121 pounds and could wear a size 4/5 pretty comfortably. Not bad, considering that I'm 5 foot 4 and I have a body that is naturally curvy. When I had my son I gained a whopping 62 pounds. After he was born, I eventually settled back out at 135-140. Then I had my daughter and ballooned up to 202 when she was born. Over time and with a very strict and rigorous diet, I got back down to a size 7 and about 135 pounds. I still had 10 pounds to lose and followed the program to the letter. Then I plateaued and nothing we did seemed to break the plateau, then a week later I had gained 3 pounds and I was flabbergasted. My husband asked if I was really following the diet or if I was cheating. I was indignant. Ironically, just 10 pounds from my ideal weight, I had plateaued because I was pregnant with my third child. My husband apologized and rejoiced in the miracle of another child while I blissfully packed on 75 pounds. After my daughter was born I slowly lost the pounds I had gained over the next two years and finally settled out at around 150. Then four years later I had my son and was at an all time high of 220 when he was born. Well, he was my biggest baby, but not big enough to justify that much weight. When he was about 2 years old I didn't bother weighing myself, but I was wearing a size 20/22 and I was miserable.

Over the next decade I tried a number of diets and managed to get myself down to a snug fitting size 16 (where I am today) and my weight seems to be fairly stable. I say “fairly” because it seems that I can lose weight (though slowly), but when I do indulge (which is really NOT that often), it seems that 3 or 4 pounds are easy to put on. This is the exact point that I have been trying to address. I find it difficult to believe that for the rest of my life I should be relegated to watching every last thing I eat and experiencing guilt when I do indulge. I am just NOT interested in living like that and I can't believe that I have to live like that forever.

During my quest to find out what is actually making and keeping me fat, I have come to a couple conclusions:

1. I believe that there is a specific cause for my body's degenerated ability to handle carbs, sugar and fat. And it's not some blanket reason of “because they are bad for you”, because that is not the whole truth and I don't even eat that many of them, and I know plenty of people who eat much worse than I do and they do not have weight problems.

2. I believe that once the real cause is determined and addressed, that it can be remedied and full quality of life and health can be restored and I wear whatever I want, whenever I want and look and feel great.

I lived the first couple decades of my life enjoying life, I didn't worry about whether I was fat and I didn't spend time concerned about my body. I think of a body as a machine, like a car, and when it is tuned up and running well, you don't have to think about it, you just run it. Sure, you make sure it looks nice, and you get a tune-up every now and then, but the overall maintenance should be a no-brainer and should simply be a part of living.

The point is that there is an answer, and when the correct cause of the problem is isolated, it can be addressed and the body will balance itself. That doesn't mean that it won't require a corrective diet to rebalance parts of the body, or require adding specific nutrients that the body may be lacking in. But the correct handling will manifest results, and if it's the right handling, those results will be lasting, right?