I've tried to write this blog several times now, and have only been left with drafts in my archives for the last month. This topic is very personal for me, as I'm sure it is to many of you as well.
I ran into my friend Stacie a few weeks ago. Stacie is a photographer, videographer, and blogger for the Huffington Post. She also has lost 150 lbs. We stumbled into each other at a local hangout, and caught up outside the establishment. The topic turned to the inevitable...weight loss, and how the world reacts differently to us now that we are smaller than before. We were the only friend the other had who knew what it was like to be "fat shamed" and "skinny shamed" in such a short time span. That conversation has weighed on my heart ever since (no pun intended) and I finally believe I am ready to fully articulate what it means to me.
My journey began nearly three years ago. I had moved out on my own and realized that if I kept eating out every meal that I would quickly be broke, and have to move back home. Horrified at the thought, I looked up "cheap vegetarian meals" and somehow ended up down the rabbit hole of the online vegan community. This lead to me watching the film "Forks Over Knives" and getting my hands on a copy of "Skinny Bitch". I haven't looked back since.
At a size 16, and nearly pushing 190 pounds, I began my vegan lifestyle. I started out puffy, with a large muffin top, terrible skin, cellulite, and a severe case of depression. Today, I stand at 5'9" weigh around 125, and am a size 4/6. When I stand with my feet together, my thighs don't touch. My cellulite is gone. I now have muscle definition. My depression has become so much better, as well as my overall health...all great things! However, along with these vast improvements to my life, I had no idea that I had so much more in store for me.
At the beginning of my shift, I was in a relationship. When I started to lose weight, he became terribly self conscious, and essentially kept me in a cycle that guaranteed no one would have the opportunity to look at me. It was like being held hostage. Any time we would go out, someone would say "Wow! You look great! Congratulations!" and he would tell me he liked me better the size I was before, and I was more beautiful to him then. It loosely translated to "I liked you better when you were broken like I am." I broke that off about a year after I started to lose weight. I learned that misery does indeed love company.
The stress I was under caused me a nasty case of adrenal fatigue, and I gained back about fifteen pounds. This sent me into a tailspin. How could I have gained back fifteen pounds? My entire identity had been wrapped up in Payton-who-lost-60-pounds-going-vegan. Not Sort-of-fat-but-not-as-fat-before-Payton! However, at this time in my transition, I have never been hit on, or asked out on more dates more. I swear, men prey on women like this, sometimes. That, or they sense a sort of desperation, or someone who needs validation, or maybe they think a chubby girl is a safer bet. Either way, I was approached more at this awkward in between stage than any other time in my life. Not fat, but chubby enough to feel approachable is what I called myself in this time period. I went out of my way to impress people then. I tried to make everyone like me. I made a lot of errors in judgement with this new sense of "I'm not good enough"
I thought "Oh, I'll go on some weight loss boards, and get connected to a community of women just like me!" When I posted my story, along with my before and after photos, and revealed my struggles with the newfound weight gain, I was shocked that there were just as many bullies in these boards as the rest of the Internet. Complete strangers would look at my progress photos and tell me that I wasn't even that fat to begin with, and I had no right to talk about how hard my process was when their after pictures look like my before. Even when I mentioned recovering from eating disorders, and BDD, they said that I was a phony, and not welcome on their boards. When I tried to turn to the comfort of people in a similar boat as I was, I was shunned for "not being fat enough." I wish I were making this up. I learned that even in the "body positive/weight loss community" that there are still bullies, and in some cases, there are bullies even greater than the ones you face on the street, or the demons you fight when you look in the mirror.
Shortly after that, when I started to get down to the size that is considered by American standards as "thin" and could identify myself as a "skinny person" that the people around me started to treat me differently. When I was a size 8, I had everyone in my family cheering me on. They would brag to their friends about how much I had lost, and how proud they were. And then, when I became smaller than they did, that's when I saw the shift. On several occasions, I have had a handful of my family members tell me I looked anorexic. As someone who has dealt with this in the past, I was so deeply hurt. Imagine if I told my overweight relatives that they looked Type 2 Diabetic because they were getting fat! You can't tell someone they look like they have a disease based on their body type, and not expect it to hurt. Yet, when I was younger and heavy, they told me I needed to lose weight, and I was unhealthy. I learned that some people only want you to succeed, just as long as you don't do better than them.
I am incredibly sensitive and introverted, and have social anxiety in situations that involve me spending time with people my own age, or in a crowded bar (and don't get me started on small talk. It makes me want to crawl in a hole) Before, when I would go out and start to shut down, I was just considered shy, and awkward. Now, people take it as I am stuck up, and a "skinny bitch" who thinks she's too good. When in fact, I just want to go home and be with the dog if I can't be with people who I consider to be "safe". I learned that your appearance effects how people perceive your hangups.
And last, but not least. I've learned that no one tells you the voices in your head don't go away. I wish that with every size four pants I pull on over my legs that I didn't feel like the awkward girl in junior high with braces and glasses, who was begging for the boy in the next desk over to notice her. I learned that you are always going to find something wrong with your body that you are going to want to fix. I'm just as much that pubescent, awkward, somewhat shy little girl who just wants to be loved as I am the strong, lean, woman that I am today. The voices don't go away when I step on a set to model. The voices don't stop when my partner tells me that I am beautiful, and perfect the way I am. Over time, they get quieter, and I've learned how to shut them up for the most part...but, no...they never truly cease. I wish someone had told me that one years ago.
Everyone has it within themselves to get healthy, to shed the pounds, to gain the muscle, and to reclaim their lives when they feel like they have lost it. Carrying around excess weight physically isn't something that has to be permanent...the resources are out there to rid yourself of that burden. Just be sure that when you do start, that you're prepared for the mental that goes along with it.
I still wouldn't change a single step of this trip for the world. This has been an eye-opening experience, and I am so grateful that this has given me an opportunity to grow (and shrink) as a person. I am always going to be a work in progress be it spiritually, mentally, or physically, and I think that my biggest lesson out of everything that I need to really focus on, is being happy with myself in the present moment...because that's all we truly have. That one, I'm working on.
Go forth and conquer, readers. And make sure you eat some vegetables while you do it.
