A Year of Honest Blogging

Today, July 10th, marks the one year anniversary of New Figure Forward. 

     A year ago I was toying with an idea to share my story to help fill a void I felt was lacking in the weight loss world.  I had only seen the 'after ' pictures; I had never heard an 'after 'story. I thought perfection would be found in a pant size. Imagine my surprise when I felt confused and lost with my new figure.  My entire body changed. My face changed. The way the world looked at me changed.  The way I felt on the inside and the way I looked on the outside did not match. When you have only known yourself one way, it is terrifying to suddenly see yourself as a stranger.  This made for a frustrating couple of 'after' years.

     I missed my bigger body on occasion. I did not like being a size 28, but I knew how to be a size 28.  Even though I wanted to lose weight, I had still accepted my role in life to be the wall flowered fat girl. I knew how to be her. I knew how people would react to her. I was her my entire life.  Now, a size 12, I had to learn the new me and the world that came along with my new figure.

     Six years after my 125 pound weight loss I have a voice. I have confidence.  I know who I am in my new figure. I found myself.  I have had people tell me the transformation they have witnessed in me is amazing.  Those that know me best have watched me go from a shoulders hunched unhealthy girl to a proud woman with her head held high.  The confidence did not hit me when I put on my dream pant size; it happened years later.

     This blog started out as a way to show the other side to weight loss. The 'after' to the 'happily ever'.  The mental healing process, the self acceptance, and the willingness to relearn myself.  These were not topics I had heard anyone else talk about. No one complains about life after weight loss! Life after weight loss is perfect and everything just falls into place. Lies. All lies! I knew I was not the only person struggling in their 'ever after'.


     I was right. I was not the only person struggling.  Through my blog, I realized the struggle to love ourselves is not reserved for specific weights or sizes. Women, some with figures I used to long for, all struggle with this need to achieve perfection so that they can love themselves.  Self-love is not the prize at the end of the journey. Self-love can be had right now. Self-love will blossom when given the green light.
   

     Moving into my second year as a blogger, I am not the same woman that started writing a year ago. This journey has been immensely healing and liberating. New Figure Forward paved my purpose to inspire others to love themselves. I will continue to advocate for less Photoshop, a variety of shapes and sizes represented in media and advertising, and the belief that our bodies are perfect - stretch marks and all! This next year will be a big one for New Figure Forward. I may have a few surprises up my sleeve. 

     My words mean nothing without someone to read them. I thank all of my friends, those I know personally and those I have met online, and my family. Without the encouragement and support this project would not have gone far. Every email I receive, every like on a post, every comment made helps me to continue pushing forward and fight for change.  Thank you to my readers! This day would not have happened without you! 

(An extra special shout out to my husband. To a man who has encouraged me grow into my own. A man who has pushed me to be my best. A man who has never seen anything but a beautiful woman in front of him.  He edited every blog, took pictures, and inspired ideas.  Thank you husband for everything you have done for me, my self esteem, and my view on the world! I love you more than words can express!) 

New Body. New Style...Eventually.

     As a fat kid in the 90's I didn't have many options in fashion and style.  I shopped at two stores; Lane Bryant and the XXL department of JcPenney. I didn't have the luxury to think about my personal style or what image I wanted to project - I just walked in and grabbed what I could tolerate and what would fit. When the time came for me to start caring about my style, my style had been already chosen for me - outdated grandma look. 

5th and 6th grade. Not my fondest years. 

     Thankfully as I got older the clothing options for the overweight expanded and I no longer had to sport flowers and cats. High school was a battle to dress myself.  I hated shopping with my friends because I couldn't fit into even the largest size in the store. Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe where not stretching over any part of me.  I learned to cry at home and show my big girl pride face in public.  I tried several different styles to disguise my lack of personal style. I tried goth but my mom just about killed me. Hippie worked. Long skirts and flip flops, easy enough. By the time I graduated high school I had no style as my style. I wore anything including a sparkly red cowboy hat with matching red fringe boots (thankfully there is no photographic evidence).  In college it evolved into a punk look, black hair and piercings. By the time I was 21 I didn't like my look. I didn't like standing out because I looked hard, angry, AND fat.

     I started over. Gone where the days of chains on my pants and a bolt in my tongue.  Now I had glamorized myself.  My hair got bigger and my make-up got thicker. Lane Bryant kept me fashionable AND in debt. The make-up girls at Macy's knew they could sell me just about anything because someday I was going to find the magic powder that, when applied to my face, would make my butt look smaller. 

     This is the "look" that evolved with me as my weight dropped down until I was no longer able to shop at Lane Bryant and Torrid. Now I could shop ANYWHERE!! This was a dream come true for me, the ability to walk into any store and know something is going to fit. About this time is also when I had my very own life crisis. I wanted to live the glory days I never had as the cute high school girl. I wanted the cute dresses, the adorable shirts, and graphic tee's that, as a fat girl, I couldn't wear.  At 27 I probably should have just let that dream go but I walked into Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe and I bought those cute (way too short for me) dresses, and those adorable (look like I'm in denial about my age) shirts, and I rocked the graphic tee (with a blazer, it really was cute). With my make-up caked on and the most uncomfortable shoes I could find, I was ready to make memories. 

     I dressed like I was 16 until I hit 30 and I suddenly felt out of place in my Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt. Recapturing youth and too much makeup was not talked about in Weight Watchers meetings. I wasn't prepared to not know how to dress myself. I  looked to women in my life that inspired me and realized none of these ladies where shopping in the juniors department and it might be time to embrace the 30 year old woman I had become. I struggle to make fashion choices that compliment me, I fight my inner fat teenager who wants the short low cut dress. 

To help combat these choices I have a set of rules I follow when I'm shopping:    

           

                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      I'm learning to love my body and showcase it as it is.  I dress my best now because that super model body I keep waiting for isn't going to get here and in the meantime I need to rock what I have with style and class.  I may not have been able to be the teenager I wanted to be but I will be the woman I hoped I'd grow up to be. 

Conversation with My Bully

     Facebook has made it so that people do not slip away from us. We may not continue to have deep relationships with some people but we can always check in and see how life has treated them.  I have typed in names of people I have known at all times in my life. Elementary school friends to old colleagues.  One night I decided to look up my elementary school bully, just to see what became of the boy who tortured me in school. It didn't take very long to find him. I sat staring at his profile picture. His picture brought with it memories I had filed deep in the back of my brain.  I decided to message him so that I could let the fat girl in me have her moment of glory and ensure that he saw what a gorgeous woman I grew up to be.  

     A small back story to help paint the picture of my elementary school experience; I went to a small town school in South Jersey. From kindergarten to 8th grade the school's total student population may have been 75 kids.  I was one of 2 "fat" kids and my bully was the only African American in the school. Life was very different for the two of us. 

     The following is the conversation that took place via Facebook. The impact this moment had on me laid to rest the sad, angry little girl who felt like her childhood was taken away by a cruel bully.  I have not edited the text in any way. This is a direct cut and paste.  My original message to him ended up not being apart of the messages between us. I don't remember what I wrote to start the conversation.  (Names have been removed to protect the privacy of those involved.) 

Bully: yea its me wow i used to pick on u a lot..i never forgot all that.

Me: Yea, I never forgot it either but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. There has to be that one kid that gets picked on in every class, it's tradition. At least now no one picks on me anymore You know what I remember most? I remember 4th grade when you didn't pick on me and we were really good friends. 5th and 6th grade changed all that but when you're nice you were a good friend. 

You have to love Facebook...who knew I would find you of all people...

Bully: all i said was wowwwwwwww...i used to talk about u all the time...like yo it was a girl i picked on all the time i was so mean to her...but as i thought about..you were my scapegoat to draw attention away from me..i was the only black thing in there..it was wierd for me cause i was real bad b4 i came there..i want to appologize but i believe shit like that builds chracter n happens for a reason...i used to think ur soul haunted me with bad luck..i do regret it...you looking good now tho.

Me: You can take some credit for who I am today. You made me stronger because I had to find an inner strength in myself to not let you completely kill my spirit. I had self esteem issues for years, but now...I'm OK. Just as you said, things happen for a reason and like I said every school has to have that one kid that gets picked on. I'm OK with it having been me because I was strong enough to take it and grow from it. I'm a tough lady now

Thank you for saying sorry. It means a lot to the little fat girl in me. I understand needing to put attention anywhere else but on yourself. We had more in common than we knew as kids.

I'm glad to have had the opportunity to talk about it. It's not often people have the chance to say sorry for things they did some many years ago. I have no hard feelings, and only wish the best for you! So no more bad luck!!

P.S. Thanks for the compliment, coming from you it means a lot!

This brief conversation enlightened and healed me. It does not make it right but even the bully had his reasons why he behaved the way he did. I am proud of the woman I grew up to be. I worked hard to become her, to keep my head up, even when I had people around me taking joy in trying to push me down. A long time ago I was told that the greatest revenge in life is to be successful. I held on to that and made it my mantra. I was not beat down, I did not give up, and from those lessons I became who I am today. My past has given me purpose.

Verily Changed Everything

     When I decided to take control of how I felt about my body, I had to consider what was causing me to feel bad about it in the first place.  While pondering this thought my eyes kept glossing over the latest cover of “Cosmo” that had arrived in the mail. Then it happened - my lighting bolt moment - the magazines I read!! Duh!! I allow myself to be subjected to Photoshopped bodies and wonder why when I look in the mirror I'm not always happy.  I knew what I had to do.

     I took control and purged my house of every Photoshopped magazine I had. The recycling bin was filled with “Cosmo”, “Shape”, and “Marie Claire”.  I was a woman on a mission. No more lies! No more guilt! Good-bye! Immediately I felt better. I felt empowered. I'm not stupid. I know the images are altered - why was I comparing myself to these illusions? Not anymore.

     I had resigned to never reading another magazine again until I found out about "Verily magazine."

The following is taken from the website: 

OUR PHOTOSHOP POLICY

Whereas other magazines photoshop to achieve the “ideal” body type or leave a maximum of three wrinkles, we never alter the body or face structure of our models with Photoshop. We firmly believe that the unique features of women — be it crows feet, freckles, or a less-than-rock-hard body — contribute to their beauty and therefore don’t need to be removed or changed.

Verily is a new kind of women’s magazine: one that celebrates the best of who you are. We feature fashion that is worthy of the woman, relationship articles that go beyond sex tips, and strong cultural and lifestyle journalism. Verily is the modern woman’s go-to guide on how                                                to lead a fulfilling, integrated life.

   Finally a publication for strong, empowered women!! Am I worried about the '10 Things He's Thinking About in Bed'? No. I'm a married woman looking to enhance my soul, my relationships, and my mind.  I want to love what I see in the mirror. I want to embrace my curves.  I want to love my face, laugh lines included. “Verily” takes me seriously as a woman, imperfections and all! 

   

  I want to get this magazine into the hands of every high school and college girl. The message of sex, sex, sex, is shoved in front of young minds every day, and we wonder why our youth is focused on the physical and not the intellectual.  This is a magazine I am proud to have on my coffee table. I do not have to hide the cover of it from my nine year old son. I want to raise him to be the kind of man that loves a woman for WHO she is and not the package she comes in. That message starts with me. I have taken away the images that objective women and replaced them with images of smiling real women.  

   We can take charge of the images we are subjected too. We do not have to look at Photoshopped models. The more we spread the message that there are alternatives that enhance our lives, the stronger the message will be to main stream media.  It is time we take back our mental health and STOP subjecting ourselves to lies that breed self hate and poor body image. 

     “Verily Magazine” can be found at Barnes and Nobles and a subscription can be purchased on the website. Indulge yourself!

**UPDATE** Verily is no longer a published magazine. It is only available online. 

Fat Girl Victory

     I had a victory moment. In the grocery store today I happened to see an old boss of mine from 7 years ago. When he knew me I was 300 pounds. He and I where not fans of each other but I was good at what I did so he made peace with me.  The office staff, including him, were always on a diet. I was surrounded by health conscious gym rats and in that time in my life I was not a healthy person.
   
     I tried to fit in. I took diet advice and felt like the office project. It was the first time I joined a gym.  It was the first time I ate protein bars.  I lost a few pounds. Nothing major. When I officially left my job I was relieved to no longer be under the microscope of that office. People would make comments about my lunch, snacks, and beverage choices.  No thank you. Fat shaming does not help anyone, ever.

    Fast forward to 7 years later and 125 pounds smaller. I'm in the store with my son, looking extra cute. I had my hair cut today. I had done my make up and my outfit was rocking. As I come around the corner who do I see across the isle? A man giving me a funny look. I knew right away who he was and could tell my look on his face he was trying to place me. My heart skipped a beat and I told myself to play it cool. I went about my business. He stared, gawked, and did multiple double takes.  I think he figured out who I was.

     I was jumping up and down on the inside. The fat girl in me felt victorious! After 7 years of maintaining my weight loss just about everyone has seen my transformation. Today was a BONUS!! Thank you universe for having it happen on a day I look adorable.

People are Cruel Regardless of Size When You Do Not Meet Their Expectations.

 
 Everyone has a why. A reason they are who they are. Why they dislike someone or something. Why they yell, or cry, or shy away.  Why some are loud, outgoing, and confident. Understanding the reasons behind a person actions and behaviors makes them not seem so bad, we see a human. We may even find compassion and understanding for them, instead of intolerance and frustration.  I present my story of why.  I am a product of my experiences, as we all are. Let us embrace empathy for each other before we assume and place judgement. 

     When I reached the age that I was aware of others and our differences, I was the heaviest kid in the third grade and the seed of self hate was planted.  I do not remember  a time when I looked in the mirror and loved what I saw. I grew up comparing myself to others around me, models, and actresses. I did not think I was as worthy to life as the beautiful people. I did not think I was a beautiful person.  When I was young, my grandmother told me my baby fat would go away as I got older. When it stuck around and brought some friends I felt like I had failed. Why had the other girls slimmed down and I had only gotten bigger? In that moment, I labeled myself different. My body was not like the other girls in my class and that made me believe my body was wrong.

     I learned to hide how I felt about my body in 6th grade after I had a bully physically abuse me on more than one occasion.  I would never show physical weakness again and I learned to carry myself with aggression. If I appeared scary, no one would hurt me. Inside I felt trapped behind a mask; I was not an aggressive person... I was a scared girl desperately seeking confirmation for my existence.  But I refused to let the aggressors be stronger than me.  I believed I was worth being loved and I would make it to the moment when I would find that love.

     I developed a distrust of people in 6th grade as well when the entire school, including people I called my friends, conspired against me.  I attended a small country school - the total student population from kindergarten through 6th grade was maybe 50 kids.  During volleyball practice after school I was informed that the boy I had a crush on and the popular girl where now a couple. People waited for my reaction. I held it together, made it through practice, and saved my tears for the privacy of my bedroom.  It was after dinner  when a friend called to tell me the truth, that it was a lie, everyone was in on it, and they just wanted to see what I would do.  This moment caused me to have difficulty trusting people.  I never let them see me cry. I learned to hold in my emotions.

     I carried my tough exterior with me through high school. I survived name calling, pushing, people trying to fight me, and my own dietary abuse. This picture creates an image of a large unhappy girl. Inn retrospect, I was only one of those. I was unhappy.  I was not large, though I was not a size zero.  I happen to have  a woman's figure amongst a sea of junior figures and I stood out.  Standing out in high school puts a target on a persons back and my target felt huge.

     I heard fat shaming comments for years. "Are you sure you want to eat that?" "What size do you want to be?" Funny thing is the size that seemed too big for me at 16 is the size I am now at 31! I'm not unhealthy now and I wasn't at an unhealthy weight then either.  It was the expected appearance for a teenager that I did not have, therefore my figure was wrong and I was fat.  How many girls are tortured because they do not look like the socially expected 16 year old? I kept my head down, shoulders slummed, and made little eye contact. I did my best to be invisible.

     I did have moments when I was able to forget my physical appearance and enjoy a social life in high school. I was Drama Club President and in every theater production. Acting made it easy to forget my size. I could be anyone.  My first major role was the seductive villain in a 1920's inspired play entitled "Peril on the High Seas".  I loved my character and my cast-mates.  I embraced the seductive nature of my character until opening night.  I will never forget the scene in which my character is seducing the male lead. I had on a 1920's all black glamours costume. I wore a long faux fur coat over my floor length dress. In the moment, in character I removed my coat, a move that was intended to be sexy. I should have won the Academy Award for not bursting into tears and running off stage when I heard boo's and, "Put it back on!" being shouted from the audience.  I finished the performance and accepted a very heart felt apology from one of  the other actors in the play. His friends where the shouters and he felt horrible. We preformed the play four more times and I didn't take my jacket off again during the production. I know now, looking back, that high school boys are dumb and insensitive but even rationalizing the behavior does not take away the scar.

     It just became easier for me to push people away and wallflower myself as I got older. No one was going to hurt me if they couldn't get near me. I had great friends that stuck by me but I never made too many new friends after high school. I was scared of people. I had allowed myself to be abused by a boyfriend for a couple of years because it was better than being alone. Just being able to say the words "I have a boyfriend" made me feel whole and less invisible. Of course I told no one of the abuse and hid it well.  After years of put downs, physical abuse by bullies, and constant reminders that I was not socially acceptable, an abusive boyfriend did not seem wrong. Somehow I deserved what I got because I was not pretty.  I believed fat girls should be thankful for what they can get.
   

     I believe that life teaches us lessons to strengthen our purposes, our reason for being who we are.  It is not easy to talk about my past.  I have been misunderstood by many over the years simply because I do not wear a sign explaining why I am the way I am. When I lost my weight I felt in limbo, my body was healthy but my mind needed time to catch up. I still had anxiety around people, especially in large groups.  From my experiences, people made me nervous and I needed time to trust again. New people in my life where thrown off by my social awkwardness because they did not know the "fat" me, all they saw was the new physically healthy me. Unfortunately, the old me's mind in the new me's body did not match and for that I have experienced judgment and intolerance.  The judgement and intolerance slowed the mental healing process down, people are cruel regardless of size when you do not meet their expectations.

     Am I shy? Yes. Am I slow to trust people? Very much so.  Have I ever seemed awkward at times?  Is it understandable as to why I am that way? I hope so. Now the ultimate question; why am I sharing this?  I have chosen to expose my most vulnerable side in an attempt to help people understand that we ALL are products of our environment and experiences.  As a society, if we could slow down and listen to each others stories we would learn a great deal about life, the strength of the human spirit, and the unbelievable power our words and actions have on each other.  My past has given me purpose. My purpose is to help people embrace who they are, what their bodies look like, and help them love themselves.  Self esteem is not a pill one can take, it is learned.

     To anyone the may have social anxiety, know that you are not alone and that you have an incredible amount of strength inside of you. The feeling of judgment can tear a person apart. It can make it difficult to move beyond the scars. The fat third grader, the bullied 6th grader, the humiliated 16 year old, the abused 20 year old, and the 300 pound 25 year old will ALWAYS be apart of me.  These are the chapters to my story and once the story is told, suddenly I make a lot more sense to people who just did not "get" me. I am writing new chapters to my life now and I am over coming my anxieties because my mind is getting healthy as well. The world may not see a fat girl but I have been looking at the world through fat girl eyes my entire life. It takes time to heal and trust.

     I do not know your story. You do not have to share with me. I do, however, promise to not judge and allow you the freedom to write your story because every one of us is different.  We all have a story as to why we are the way we are. Judgment will not change that - it will only put up walls and take away valuable lessons and meaningful relationship with one and another.
   

Make Up Make Over

     I remember being given my first lipstick. I was twelve years old and I thought I was holding magic. I'd been entrusted with the secrets to womanhood; this simple stick of color was about to take me from child to woman.  This was leveling the play field between me, the fat kid, and the girls who were blossoming. I may not have had boobs but I had the right shade of pink to attract the boys. Embracing my grown up self I smoothed it over my lips...pause....then my cheeks...pause...then reapplied more, until finally my grandmother made me give it back.

     My second attempt with make up was a tinted acne concealer in 7th grade. It's purpose was to be dabbed on pimples as needed.  By the time I was done I had covered my entire face but not for acne reasons - this stuff was the closest to foundation I'd gotten and I went nuts. The look on my mothers face when she saw the brown mask was priceless. It was an immediate, "Turn around and wash your face!"

     My junior year of high school was when I got good at make up. I had spent the summer watching make over shows and learning every trick I could. I was asked to help others with their make up. I'd come a long way from the lip stick smeared cheeks and tinted face.  I had leveled the playing field with other girls in school - sure you have a cute figure but I have a rocking smokey eye. It was a shame that boys didn't appreciate the time and effort I put into myself everyday. Oh, to have those HOURS of sleep back.

     My make up changed with my fashion phases and clothing sizes. The bigger I got the thicker the face paint got. I refused to look at my body and since I wasn't focusing on it I put all of my time and energy into my face.  As I moved up the money making ladder in life I expanded my addiction to more expensive brands and invested in every color of everything.  The make up girls at Macy's new me by name and always had the lastest and greatest ready to show me.

   
       I found myself struggling with my face as my weight came off. I had used my make up as a cover for my size - without the weight, what was I hiding from? I'd covered my face for so many years that I realized I really didn't know what my natural face looked like.  I needed to make peace with my face and learn to be kind to the woman in the mirror.  The question now was how. 

    The transition was not easy and took almost four years for me to get where I am today in my make up routine.  I eliminated colors and products slowly. I retired the green, blue, and sparkly eye shadows and opted for natural shades and softer applications.  Black eye liner was the hardest product to back off on - I had been using it since high school! It felt like breaking a drug addiction because I didn't think I could live without it. I removed it from my bag and stashed it away. There was comfort in knowing I could always go and get it. I forced myself to go a week without it and just use mascara and natural colored eye shadow. During this week I hated looking in the mirror. I felt naked. But I refused to let myself cave in. I was determined to like what I saw without painting it on. I give credit to my husband whose kind words helped get me over the withdraw stage. It sounds silly to think of make up having such a pull on someone but it does and that's what needed to change for me. Make up had become my addiction and it was hurting my ability to love myself. The fear of change had prevented me from taking control of my weight sooner and I wasn't going to let it cause me to slide backward. After all, isn't my "real" face what I was after to begin with? 

     Over time I began to see myself as beautiful without make up on or at least with much less make up.  I still use make up. My everyday routine is simple and quick. I enjoy dressier events as the opportunity to use my eyeliner and darker colors; my smokey eye is a once in a while instead of my everyday look.  I leveled the playing field when I shrunk my butt and no longer need heavy make up. 

     It's not easy adjusting to face I am not familiar with. The woman in the mirror can be a stranger at times.  I started gaining weight in third grade and therefore I have never known myself with a "skinny" face.  My face was my mask to the world and I colored all over it, outside of the lines and all.  Now, with reminders, I am embracing a love for what I see. I am beautiful and this time when I say it I believe it.  I don't want to look back on life and realize I never loved and enjoyed myself. I will now remember to always cherish what I have.