Every day is the first day of your very own adventure - if you want it to be.

Whilst reading a book entitled, "The Essence of TAO - An Anthology of Quotations" compiled by Maggie Pinkney , I stumbled upon a short few words that really energized me to continue moving forward with the healthy changes and lifestyle choices that I'm making for myself. These choices will be outlined in my blog, as well as any progress, setbacks, things that make life a little easier, or even things I find that make things harder.

I'm twenty-five years old, I reside in a peaceful middle class suburb with a nearby park, trees and landscaping, neighbors walking their dogs and waving hello as they make some passing comment about the change in the season. It's a nice place, and for the first many months of living here I felt so isolated within myself that it really started to become overbearing. The isolation that we, via society, impose on ourselves just because we're large is really quite stunning. I've always gawked in awe at larger women that wear the latest fashions, rock their curvy bodies, and exceed every expectation when someone tells them they 'can't' or 'shouldn't' due to their size.

For ages I wore cover-ups on my arms, dressed only in black because I felt somehow hidden and swallowed up by it, defaced or erased any photos in which I appeared, and had panic attacks whenever the thought of getting forced into an upcoming family photo surfaced. Why couldn't I have the rail-thin waifish body that the media says I ought to have? Then I'd be proud to stand in a photo with my husband and children. Really, it's all so simple (or so I thought) - Thin people are popular, have friends and have fun and fat people are unpopular, are friendless and lonely. Really, I genuinely believed that. Then began a bout of trying every diet in the book, none of which ever work long term. Yes, you drop 20lbs, but a few months (or sideways glances at a hamburger) later and you've gained it all back. All of it. With interest.

It took five people to make a difference in my life. Make a difference in that self-destructive and pain-filled cycle that was only adding on weight and piling up the loneliness. It makes me wonder how many suicides could be prevented, how many anorexics be saved before their disease begins, and how many lonely people can be lifted up if only they had five people to show them the way. I've recorded these people below, albeit not in chronological order, to thank them for their direct/indirect help in assisting me in doing for myself what should have been done years and years ago.

The first person to help me was a girl named Portia. When I moved to the DC Metro region to live with my husband, there was a long spell where I spoke to no one outside of my family and his. I was a shut-in and afraid of the world. Everything about making friends was frightening because I had allowed myself to hide in the shadows of my own weight for so long that I completely forgot that I had a bubbly, lovable, love-worthy personality! Portia and I met online, and got to chatting. She was even heavier than I was, and had this air about her that filled the room with joy and self-confidence. Around her my self-confidence felt as big as a mountain. She brought me to meetings at an organization she frequented known as "NAAFA" (National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance) where people twice or more my size were having fun. Having fun and being fat had been so mutually exclusive for ages that it never really struck me that they could somehow be combined. I went to a picnic, after Portia's most unfortunate suicide, to remember her for the last time in the NAAFA setting. I wore a black sleeveless sundress, and for the first time in my recent memory I wore it without a shrug. My arms with all of their wobbly bits were there for the world to see, and now looking back I can realize that that was the defining moment where I realized that if someone like Portia can commit suicide...well there were things going on no one can ever truly understand, but I realized that it wouldn't be me. I was going to be happy, and I thank her to this day for giving me the gift of accepting who I am.

The second person to help me on this journey was a friend named Bethan. She'd always been, puttering around on MSN, with a kind word and this unrelenting love of who I am. Really, for the longest time I never quite understood how should could possibly tolerate me. Tolerate who I was, how I acted, how I thought. For a long time my head was in a dark place, and even though I was constantly well-meaning I could never lift out of that self-demeaning slump. Bethan is a curvy lady, and she's gorgeous. All around me I attract curvy, gorgeous women who may struggle with self-acceptance on the inside but never let anyone else realize that. They're strong, the kinds of rocks that we all need to have in our lives lest we float away in that deep, dark sea of self-loathing. She started a fashion blog, about how to be plus size AND fabulous. Again, being fat and being fashionable, feeling good in your clothes and feeling hot in your curves had always been mutually exclusive...what exactly was going on here? Suddenly the world started turning a little faster. What Portia had helped build in me was the first tier, and now I suddenly found a second tier slapped on in mortar and stone. For the first time in recent memory I went to a party, without my children (so it was a bonafide social outing), and I wore a corset. I didn't wear it to flatten or hide my curves, instead I wore it to accentuate them and to feel sexy.

The third person was a friend named Amanda. When I first met her at age ten, she was one of those rail-thin people. She struggled with food, and due to issues beyond her control her health took a drastic nose-dive. The medicine she was put on to keep her lungs functioning made her gain weight. More, and more piled on and when we'd talk about boys while reading the latest "Teen" there'd always be that worm of self-loathing eating her up. I could see it behind her pretty blue eyes, even when I was a young teen. She wasn't physically what she used to be, and although she was still quite arguably beautiful, I don't know that she ever truly realized that. Thin was in, and for a long time that was all there was to it. She went dark places, places I don't wager need discussing, and after years of health problems, self-image issues, and uncertainty she met a few good friends, and her soon-to-be-husband. She entered a whirl-wind romance, the kind we all love to love and long to have, and found herself working hard at the gym and dropping a ton of weight. Not a literal ton, of course, but she was back to herself inside and out. She taught me hard work and effort are required to lose weight. I mean, we all know that and we can all recite how to lose weight in the "diet, exercise, drink water, sleep well" mantra but how many of us actually chant that mantra and then live it? Not many, but she did. That whirl-wind romance turned into a solid and happy marriage and I'm so happy and thankful that she finally has the life and love she has absolutely always deserved. She got happiness...why couldn't I also have this? In my fear I hesitated, for months, and then I up and decided one day to go to a gym. She had done it, why not I? I didn't do it to get skinny, lose weight and be 'in', I did it to be happy. I did it for me.

The fourth person was my husband. In many ways he hurt my cause, and wasn't my champion, but he always loved me and was always there. He wanted to fix and make better everything that I had broken. The thing that glued the cuts back together for a very long time was food and he would get it for me. He would enable me, he would feed me, and he would hold me when I cried over a very real food addiction. My weight climbed to over 330lbs (331, to be exact, as measured by a GP) which was over 70lbs heavier than when I first met him 4 years prior. I had allowed myself to gain a ten year old, in a relatively short period of time, and I had nothing to show for it but severe depression, mood swings, control issues and a sharp tongue. How did he help me? He loved me unconditionally and enabled me without restraint, and through him I met the final person that helped the last piece of the puzzle click into place.

The fifth person is myself. Just me. No big and amazing story, just a simple girl who likes animals and stories, art and cooking. My husband had taught me that I had to stop relying on other people to fix me. That I had especially stop relying on him to fix me because 1) it wasn't fair to ask of him, and 2) he was as broken as I was. We started working together, and accomplishing much more. Everything really clicked, and suddenly I had actualized the steps of my own happiness!

The quote I had mentioned earlier, in case you find yourself interested, is by St. Francis de Sales and is as follows, "Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them - every day, begin the task anew."

In considering the ramifications, meanings, and personal interpretations behind the quote (as I am wont to do) it comforted me - I am finally in a point in my life where I am looking at myself critically, but with the affection that I've earned. I don't hate myself anymore, and I won't tolerate being mistreated or bullied by anyone because of my size. I won't allow myself to mistreat or bully me either.

Did you hear that Self? It's time you and I had our day of reckoning and you accept that I'm going to do it all for me. I'm not going to mamby-pamby around the issues. I'm going to be me, I'm going to be healthy, and I'm going to be fabulous and there isn't a damned thing you can do about it.

That's all for today, though! More posts will be forthcoming with some of the delicious and healthy goodness I've been making for my family, as well as some of the ups and downs of being vegetarian and a my very un(vegetarian)-friendly world. Sabotage, desperation, and sinister deeds to follow...sounds almost like a Soap, doesn't it?

Egg out.