When I was younger I was skinny. Not thin, or slender, or small – skinny. I mean, bony! I had long gangly limbs and was probably in the 5th percentile for my weight for most of my childhood. I was often called toothpick (when I wasn’t being called “Four Eyes” or “Nerd”)
Truth be told, I never paid much attention to my weight. In the 80s and 90s when I was a kid and teenager, I honestly didn’t know many overweight kids. I guess this was before the “childhood obesity epidemic” went into full swing in our country. Just about every kid in my neighborhood spent their afternoons and school breaks running around outside – riding bikes all over creation, playing four-square, basketball, or some made-up strange form of tag at the playground. We weren’t ever allowed nor did we want to sit lazily in front of the TV, and none of us (with very few exceptions had computers or cell phones, which were called “car phones” then, ha!)
So I can’t really say I ever sat around with my girlfriends and complained about weight. I don’t think I ever paid any attention to calories or fat content. In fact, I barely remembered what clothing size I was and had never heard of a carb. This obsession with size still befuddles a girl like me. Well, except for the fact that the tables have really turned on me in the past 10 years.
After puberty I finally got a somewhat girlish form, albeit still a very thin one, but I ate like a horse nonetheless! I loved to eat! My metabolism seemed to have no bounds! In college, as the studying increased and my acitivity decreased, I put on the “freshman 15” and fortunately for me, it looked good! I finally looked less like a toothpick and more like a woman!
I managed to stay thin and happy, somewhat active yet still overindulgent until I turned 20. My first encounter with a truly devastating and wrong relationship led me to begin turning to food for comfort….and a few more pounds crept on. While God delivered me from myself and the tumultuous and let’s just call it what it was – sinful and rebellious period of my life, I still thought I looked fine and didn’t seem to notice that emotional eating had become a part of who I was.
In just a few years time, my relationship with food would evolve as did my relationship with God . . .
to be continued