Category Archives: fat gurl
As the idea for this came to me, I was eating my lunch. 260 calories worth of Grilled Peppercorn Beef and Vegetables paired with a goblet of refreshing fridge water, 2018. (The jury is still out as to whether that is a great year.) I was scraping the last bit of rice and peppers onto my fork and the decision was made. To no one in particular I said, “My name is Micaa. I am a flavorholic.” As the last syllable came out of my mouth, just for a moment, my inner fat girl surfaced and the tray I was scraping with my fork flipped out of my hands and bits of rice went down the front of my shirt, all over my lap, and down the side of the couch.
And just like that, she was gone.
Instantly, I knew without any speculation, what an alcoholic feels and precisely what those meetings are for. I knew, in the mess that the meetings were quite helpful and why they are life long missions for those addicted to drugs and alcohol. It really made me pause. Sitting there, covered in saucy rice, I thought: “You know? Food addiction is a thing and there should be some sort of program for people like me too.
So here it is: Flavorholic Anonymous.
A while back, a co-worker and I were losing weight and being quite supportive of each other. We did exceptionally well despite being states apart. We shared workouts, recipes, motivation, anything related toward that goal of not being called “overweight/obese” by the doctors. While she went farther than I did, and kept it off, she did say something to me once that resonated with me. I even wrote it down and that sticky note on my Monitor has a slight gathering of dust since it has been there so long:
“I know I am going to have to count everything I eat for the rest of my life.”
There is more truth in those eighteen words than anyone who has not known the struggle of changing to a healthier lifestyle forever will ever know. My view on food was that 1. I loved flavor. 2. I was a stress eater. 3. I am a member of the ‘clean your plat or else’ generation. And, 4. I viewed food as a fun/social thing instead of fuel for my body. These are things that can hurt anyone’s progress.
I had to almost start my journey over from where I started. With my coworker, I had went from 208+ to 148 over a period of 18 months. I counted every bite of food, every exercise. I worked out daily. It wasn’t easy. Once I got comfortable, I slowly slipped into some bad habits. I had a stressful period and, before I knew it, the scale yelled 181 at me.
I was devastated.
What I didn’t do the first time was change my mindset. The entire time, I would spend every extra second of my day planning and thinking and fantasizing about my next meal. It was horrible and tiresome to have my brain wired in such a way that food was the only thing there was when I was not focused on work or whatever. The day I figured out how to change that, my inner voice was totally silent.
The silence was so loud! Yet, it still spoke volumes.
I still have to count everything. I still have to do some physical activity every day. If I stop, the numbers will creep back up there and I am back to wearing those sweatpants with the fuzz balls on the legs. Similar to an alcoholic, they thank a greater being every day and set the intention…one day at a time. As a Flavor Hog, the intention is set when I honestly count everything and remember that food is fuel and not some reward for abstaining from throat punching someone.
There are days when it’s a struggle. I just want to cram my face with a Tasty Kake Honey Bun or two then sleep it off. These are like the days an alcoholic will sit in the parking lot of a bar wondering what’s on tap. While the AA person will call their sponsor, it’s not that simple for me. I have to convince myself that is not a good idea and take that bad intention and work it out. Am I really hungry or can I do something else until this yearning goes away?
I don’t know. I have to keep that demon I refer to ad my inner fat girl suppressed and sometimes, she’s a beast and gets the best of me. It’s a daily struggle.
I cleaned up my mess from lunch. Since I am not going anywhere, I think I will just keep my ricey clothes on as a reminder that the struggle is especially hard today and set the intention to work even harder at it. When I win these battles, tomorrow is better and I feel good about that.
You can join too. No judgement. We are all comrades. Remember:
My name is Micaa. I am a flavorholic.
What do YOU think?
Since I have left the carefree calorie days of the late twenties and early thirties, I have spent nearly all day, every day thinking about what I am going to eat next. I would fix the planned meal, usually for more than one person to eat, then, to avoid leftovers (as well as no one else eating the meal,) proceed to eat the lot of it. I always had to clean my plate. Then, almost immediately, I would begin to think about what to eat next. I tried to stay busy but not the right kind of busy, because my brain would continually think about food and what we had to eat in the house or what I was going to get at the store. It was frustrating and mentally exhausting.
Not only did it make me mentally tired, I was gaining weight and becoming physically lazy. I hated life. I hated me. Unbeknownst to me, I subconsciously hated my inner fat girl for taking over every thought and replacing it with the next plate of food to shovel into my mouth. I became depressed and it affected my entire family. My clothes were all too small and I was wearing the same three sweatpants and t-shirts all week. Working from home, I could do that. I had one pair of “fat jeans” that I wore every time I had to leave the house. That was it.
Two years ago, someone hurt my feelings in relation to my weight and I used that hurt and anger to drop from 208 to 148. I felt great and it was definitely a huge victory. I was proud to be asked for my license because it was me at my largest and I definitely looked different. What didn’t change was that inner voice constantly thinking about the next thing to eat. So long as I never became overly stressed, upset, sad, or any other negative feelings, I would do just fine. However, it prevented me from not overeating during those times and it was still a mental struggle. Again, all those bad feelings took over and I forgot how to direct the bad feelings constructively toward exercise and strength training. Of this 60 pounds lost in the course of approximately 15 months, I gained almost 40 pounds back.
This was when I discovered, for me, my problem was more mental than the physical. I had to prevent food from taking over every second of my waking day as well as the majority of my dreams. I did some research on the topic and, eventually that of my doctor. Armed with the tools to overcome the strength of my inner fat girl, I se out in a new journey to make some permanent changes. That was three months ago.
It is still a struggle. However, most days, I am allowed to think of things other than food. I have even begun to read, a lot, again. There are days that are exceedingly hard. When I win with any victory, no matter how small, I am proud of myself. Yesterday was one of those days. While the victories of yesterday were quite insignificant to most, they were exceptionally huge for me. Another thing that was a victory was, I still got my walk I. Despite having an off day. Definitely a victory for a day that would otherwise have been horrible and reminiscent of the 208 pound me. Here is an excerpt from my journal regarding other Popularly Overlooked but Huge Victories from yesterday:
Yesterday was a struggle that ended in a victory. I spent most of the day craving a chicken sandwich with cheese and bacon and mayo as well as any kind of milkshake. I was craving like a smoker wanting a cigarette. Living in a resort area, the activities of Memorial Day weekend are quite dangerous so we chose to stay home. After cabin fever se it, we did decide to walk to the store. I caved and did buy the lowest calorie Gelato I could find. (1. Ice cream was not on sale. 2. Other frozen treats were too many calories 3. I have always wanted to try Gelato.) While still not in the right direction, it was still a victory because I was thinking about calories. The draw back was the small box I selected contained seven servings. I ended up eating a little over half which was half my goal intake for the day. 😔 HOWEVER, I still ended the day under the maintenance suggested calories for the day. A small victory there. I also woke up not feeling like garbage for eating with reckless abandon on a cheat day. Overall, a win! Oh, also, I am proud I didn’t eat the entire container. 200 pound me would have done so in one day, if not one sitting. Yay for me!
While these victories may not seem like much it means a great deal to me because it is a win over overly destructive behavior. It gives me hope that I can do this again and again and it becomes a habit. It is victories like these that are going to shut that fat bitch up once and for all. Further, actively thinking about my food choices only when it is time to eat makes choosing to eat healthy and wisely a lot easier. While I have chosen to give up so many of the foods I love, I have discovered others I love and it is best to break up with things I know I cannot control myself around.
It is a struggle but still a journey and I feel I am winning, for the long haul, this time around.
Micaa 2 / Inner Fat Girl 1
What do YOU think?
I spent most of my life finding solace in the bottom of a plate of my favorite things. Pizza, creamy Mac and cheese, cake, cookies, ribs, other things that just make you feel better when the world is picking in you. After I had my last baby, I paid for that kind of thinking. I got my feelings hurt one year and I lost over 65 pounds with motivation. What I didn’t count on was that, despite getting down to 148, I would go all the way back up to 180 and hate myself again. Since then, I have started this second journey and found that there is such things as eating disorders and all those years of stress eating have wired my brain incorrectly. You have no idea what it’s like to think about what you are going to have for dinner from the time you open your eyes in the morning. To have every waking moment of thought nearly dedicated to the awesome amount of calories you plan to consume at your next meal. To be honest, it’s quite tiring and just makes you consume even more.
Because I am older and my metabolism has slowed, I know I have to count everything I put in my mouth, for the rest of my life unless I want to be knocking on 200’s door and beyond. I am saying this because, I had a victory today that was no small feat.
One cup of Velveeta Mac and Cheese is 360 calories all by itself. My son can eat it with abandon because he is a growing kid. What’s hard for me is that, no one makes it quite like Mom, and, as badly as I wanted some, I settled for a broccoli/Brussels sprout salad with tangy French dressing.
For someone like me, that was an amazing feat. I felt like Rocky Balboa at the top of the steps. The struggle is not over, however. It’s five pm and thus, the start of the hardest part of the day for me. You see, I can do great all day! Eat well, exercise, drink water…but then I normally cave and snack mindlessly until bedtime. Also, there is still part of that mac and cheese in the kitchen. From where I sit, I can see it…calling to me.
I’m gonna fight and smile at the sunrise tomorrow instead of being riddled with guilt about overeating. This is but one victory for me. The small ones all count. Hopefully, they add up to bigger ones.
Wish me luck.
***Defiantly flips the middle finger at the pot in the kitchen in a kiss off gesture!**. Today, I win.
What do YOU think?
I get up and go about my usual morning routine. Only, I stop for an extra moment to ponder what I see in the mirror. Who is this looking back at me? I have not seen you for a long, long time. Good morning Stranger! Where have you been? Can it really be you? From way back when? Thinking back, I don’t know where you went. Did you hide? Was it time well spent?
Why do I say these things to the mirror? After all, it is just a reflection. A reflection of one’s self. However, that reflection can become someone else. Someone you hate, someone you don’t recognize and remain that way for many years. Sometimes, it is not even the fault of oneself that we end up this way. Sadly, in my case, I think it was. You see, the reflection I have been staring at (screaming at) for nearly 20 years was not me but someone much larger, lost, and different. I avoided her. I didn’t take pictures, I didn’t look in the mirror. When I did, I wanted to throat punch her and scream in her face until spit rained upon it. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ME!!!!????
But this morning was different. I have yet to wash my face and brush my hair but I can only smile at what I see staring back at me. I don’t want to scream at her. I don’t hate her. I know she has come a long way and has a long way to go but I can see her. My best version of me. She is beautiful. She is a mess. However, she is no longer a joke. She is wiser. Things like fat jokes are not funny anymore. She sees the world through a different filter. I like what I see. After all these years, I have found the person I was searching for and I can get back to loving myself. No more happiness in the bottom of an empty plate. That was the same kind of happiness a drug addict chases when they are trying to get high. I am beyond that now. No more turning to food and bad habits when things become stressful. Because I can love me and I am able to stare at the face looking back at me in the mirror, I am a stronger person. I can love me now.
It was strange, this morning, staring at my reflection. I liked what I see. Bed-hair and all. I have not felt that kind of comfort in a long time. Stranger, I don’t know where you went or where you have been, but please, please, don’t go back there anymore. I have a funny feeling you didn’t like it much. I know I didn’t like it when you were gone. I can smile at you and you will smile back. It will be a true smile. One that is not hidden behind a puffy face and slits for eyes. One that is not obscured by more than just a chin. It is you. Beautiful you! While you are not completely back, I can see that you are there and you have that determined look. You are here to stay!
I love you reflection. I know you feel better and I know you are working hard to show the world that you are still here. That you still exist. Thank you for caring enough to come back. Thank you for taking the journey to get here. Thank you for being…me.
Hello Stranger! I am glad you are here. Stick around and show pride without fear. Welcome Stranger, you’ve been gone so long. I can never apologize enough for steering you wrong. Hello Stranger! Where have you been? Can it really be you? From way back when? Thinking back, I don’t know where you went. Did you hide? Was it time well spent? I am glad you are back. Our journey will see, just how we both can stay on track. Stranger no more, I love me. My reflection, I love, is staring back at me.
What do YOU think?
I haven’t written in a bit but this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. Time to show my human side and get it out. This post is not like my others and while I have an artist rendering of the exact feelings behind it, I am saving that for my next post. Pretty much because some art is NSFW and I want this post to at least survive any censorship.
About twenty years ago, I took for granted the image reflected in the mirror. I was about 130 and hated what I looked like. I have never been happy with me. Little did I know that one day, I had the power to change that. Fast forward to now, three kids later and a work at home job that challenges every healthy suggestion known to humankind. Oh. You also want to add approximately 70 pounds to that. I avoid pictures. I wear sweatpants all the time. It’s a daily occurrence that something will not fit anymore today. I am easily winded and love to have a plate in front of me. Yes. My name is Micaa and I am a flavorhog. (Remember that post? Ah, but I digress.)
I tried many things. Four daily miles on a tredmill for nine months. Still 200 pounds. Eat only fruits and vegetables for a year. Still 200 pounds. Hydroxycut…HGA drops AND pills, no sodas, no carbs, count calories, no fast food…all epic failures. I avpided mirrors and scales and stopped wearing makeup. I even made appointments for (and chickened out) lap band surgery, liposuction and laser fat removal. I had begun to accept the fact that being huge was what was going to kill me.
April 25, 2015. Someone who (apparently) was as miserable with themselves as I, said some really nasty things to me. While I wont give her the glory of repeating those things, I can say it hurt me to my soul. It made me hate what and who I was. It made me even consider going the way of the coward. (Like Robin Williams.) Instead, I sat and thought about it. I decided to use that primal self-hate and anger and use it to make a change. To show that person and everyone else that I am better than this. One of the things she called me was…fat. I can still hear her voice and it burns my ears when I am working out.
I set a pretty high goal. I had no timeframe for reaching that goal only that in spite of people being mean, I was going to make it. I asked people who had been working on a similar goal what worked and what failed for them and, to keep myself accountable, I told the wellness group at work.
I found MyFitnessPal and got reacquainted with my tredmill. My huaband got an exercise bike and my son brought me a stepometer. I started using Your Shape Fitness on Xbox. Everytime I became upset over those mean words or hated my own being, I worked out. I set a daily calorie goal and started. Even the wellness manager at work said I was ambitious with my goal. She just didn’t know my story. Did she?
I am three months into this journey. Can you believe I am only a couple of pounds from “halfway there?” My goal was sixty pounds to lose. I stay away from scales because I know it will be a caustic relationship. I weigh in once a month. There are victories here. These little things are now the motivation and the self hate is beginning to fade. Oh I still hear that nasty voice pushing me and thats great when I have a lazy day.
My list of little things….
1. My pants dont have to be “unrolled” when I stand up.
2. Things fit better.
3. Some things dont fit cuz they have become TOO BIG.
4. I can breathe.
5. I can scratch my back without assistance.
6. It’s not an act of congress to get up from sitting on the floor.
7. When getting laundry out of the laundry closet, it is not wall to wall me. I have wiggle room.
8. My shoes are not so tight.
9. I have had to put seven new holes on my belt to make it smaller.
10. Friends notice the improvement.
11. My husband can tell the difference when we are snuggled on the couch on movie night.
12. My kids are all into making this work for me.
13. I have more energy.
14. I can sleep on my stomach..again.
15. When I get a cut or scrape, it heals in 7-10 days instead of nearly a month.
16. More water.
17. My skin looks and feels better.
18. When I smile, my eyes don’t disappear.
19. For the first time ever, I am beginning to like what I see in tge mirror.
20. Through it all…that person has gained a lot of weight and I am now smaller than her.
21. I almost consider myself a “skinny blitch.” (Before, I wanted to trip everyone who weighed less than 170 so I could laugh at them.)
There are so many more little things but if you celebrate these things in your journey and not the numbers on the scale, it keeps your motivation fresh. Yes. I still have a long way to go and it wont be easy. I WILL get there. Come heck or high water. #goalswillbereached.
What do YOU think?
Cal does the grocery shopping from time to time. Because I had to work, he did the deed today. I love it when he does the shopping because he brings stuff home that I would never buy and it makes me try new things or things that I would only get out of the vending machine at work. (Wait, what? Vending machine? There is one HERE???? Oh. No, that was at an old job where I had to do this thing called “drive to work.” **Micaa shudders.** See how spoiled I am working from home? I digress.) He stopped by the office to tell me he got some “aged white cheddar popcorn stuff” for the kiddos. I was in the middle of something and was like “Cool. Nice. Uh. Huh.” He left back out and then decided to bring it to me to keep so they don’t become human vaccuums and inhale it all when they get home. I swear there was enough for at least three days but if you release the demons on it, it will be obliterated in less than three (3) seconds. When he told me about it, I thought it was some new brand of chip bag popcorn I had never seen before. No. It was this:
I have had this brand before. Yes, it was a vending machine thing. Don’t judge! I told him “OOOH! Pirates Booty! Yes, its good. I looove Pirates Booty!” His response was simple.
I had to sit and think about that for a minute. Ummm. That did not sound like I meant for it to sound. I tried to explain myself. In his good humor, he said “Yea, yea, sure. We ALL know what you meant! Freak!” He laughed all the way out the door. One point for the Cal. He got me. (Dang it.) He immediately returned with the most luscious, decadent, chocolate of chocolate cakes! Omy!!! I looked at him. He is the father of my children. He HATES chocolate cake. He told me it was for me and the kids and I immediately broke out in song. ♫♪Dad is great! Giving us the chocolate cake!♪♫. For those of you who do not know of this wonderful thing. Watch the following video. It comes about around. 7:12
Guess what! I WIN!!!! I got him to laugh at me. Ahh. Life is good.
What do YOU think?
I must admit, since I have had children, my weight has been a horrible conversation that I have with myself multiple times a day. When I see little skinny people or people with simply no flaw on their outer person, it makes me want to pour red wine on their head (I hope they wear some expensive white outfit) and run off into the nigh cackling like a maniac. Skinny people seriously make me sick. People will tell me it comes with age and that I can get back to a weight I am comfortable with, yada, yada, yada. Not gonna happen. Too much work and, apparently, I am not in love with myself enough to go to such great lengths. There are other things like genes that come into play to. I just know it but I have been told that is a cop out. Whatever. You don’t know me.
Enough of the back story. The other day, there was this girl that honestly looked like a mini marshmallow walking around on toothpicks. She was short, dumpy but was THAT SKINNY! She had a HUGE phone in her back pocket. You know, one of those “I can slap your face with this and knock you out with it” phones. A Samsung Galaxy note 1200 or whatever the fancy people get these days. I swear that phone was wider than the thigh she was trying to support it on. I mean really folks. Does someone that small honestly need a phone that big? Can it be that she is not old enough for a knife or mace for personal protection that she has to have a phone that she can wap someone with and still be able to hold on to it. Truthfully, I cannot see how that would be possible either unless she uses two (2) hands or something. Jeez girl. You are all about matching your clothes, at least you can match your phone to your body type.
That brings me to another thing. These little tiny women who have HUGE babies. I mean JEEEZ..How in the world were you able to spit THAT out? That child, at 3 months is nearly 2/3 your size and you are already back to looking tiny and trim? Kids will scrape your insides and stretch your body every which way that is humanly impossible and yours is awesomely bigger than it appears your body is capable of forcing out of a hole that is about the size of a golfball and you STILL come out of that looking like you adopted or something? Ugh. The natural world has a sick sense of humor and Mother Nature laughs at me everytime I scoff at a skinny minnie. Mother Nature, we will have a talk one day. I can assure you of that.
UPDATE REGARDING THE LYING SCALE: They must have received a complaint or something about that scale that I wrote about a few days ago. I went back to it and it was REALLY different than what I initially said it told me. While it was better, I still hate it because it is not good enough. However, it does not stick anymore. Glad I am not as huge as I thought I was. Now if my coffee diet will just start working, the world will be beautiful.
However, Mother Nature and I still need to have a chat…
What do YOU think?
This evening, it was my turn to pick up number 16 from her ball game. Upon getting in the car, I put my phone into my purse to sway the temptation of looking at my phone. Of course its the time of day when it happily dings several melodies informing me of the important gossip of the interwebs that I miss during the work day.
As I come to the end of the street to make my turn, here comes one of the city’s finest. I didnt pay the sleeping blue lights much attention as it was going the opposite direction. (Unbeknownst to me, I should have known better, the dang cop turned so he could follow me on a later street. Duh…I live in Harlem, SC.) After he passed, I turned and went on my merry way. At some point between putting my phone in my purse and getting to the main road, I find a treasure in the same pocket my phone was supposed to occupy. I FOUND SOME REESES PEANUT BUTTER CUPS!!!! OMNOMNOM!!!!
As I come aound the bend on my way to the main road I see the same lovely cop come out of a side street. A fleeting moment of sarcasm voices itself in my head. “Aw….hes protecting da hood!” I arrive at the stop sign at the main road and attempt to open my Reeses. My Cal purchased these for me yesterday with the hot sauce money so they were sooo gonna be yummy. (Priorities. YES, he got his hot sauce too. Jeez, I am not going to revel I heaven at his loss. Dang! What do you take me for? I am not that big of a blitch!!!! Ayup…uh huh…you got it. Thats the digression. Hehehe) For some reason, it took me three tries to get these yummies out ofbthe package and on the third try only one slid out of the wrapper. Ugh….sublimely satisfied, I pull out into traffic in the main road. Wouldnt you know it…this cop pulls in behind me. Dammit. Now I have to drive the right way. With BOTH hands on the wheel, at ten and two and obey all traffic rules. This cop was running my tags and chit! Really? All because you seen me pull out of my own damn driveway at nine pm?! Oh yea, thats right virtuous people are not up to any good leaving their home at nine on a Monday night. Now the cop is pulling back off the tailpipe of my car while he waits for my tags to come back clean.
All the while, my reeses sits on my leg; taunting and teasing me. Why can I not enjoy my Reeses in peace! No. Absolutely NOT. I am certain by this time our friend the cop has discovered I actually live in the area I came from. Ya but cops have a flippen sense of humor and Mr. Blue Lights follows me all the way to the school. Oh yes. I grumbled as I turned into the school parking lot. The very sevond I pulled up to where number 16 was waiting, I attacked the Reeses for teasing me and was licking the chocolate off the wrapper. Yes! Finally! It. Was. So. Damn. Good.
But this rant is not over.
She opens the door and just stands there. She looked afraid. Like she was about to be bitten. I was like “Dood! Come on!” She simply points at the passenger seat. Oh. My wrapper. It had chocolate on it too. I snatched it up. Yum yum yum. Ok. There. I am done. She said “Hungry much?” I put the wrappers away and told her of our friend. Thinking about the whole scenario on the way home, I thought “Hrmm…my Reeses must be illegal.” I enjoyed my second Reeses on the way home. Number sixteen took great joy in graphically describing my plight with the chocolate cheese paper to her father. That is another rant but it included licking her iPod screen. Ick.
I just know that cop was disappointed he had no reason to stop me. Well, I drive to fight another day! 🙂
What do YOU think?