I'm a Fat Mom and I Want to Change

I had a “fat day” yesterday. I mean, my weight didn’t change all that much. It was probably more of a confidence thing. But as I stepped outside and the beautiful weather touched my skin, the poisonous thoughts were already starting.

Great, it’s blue jean weather. Blue jeans cut my body in half and make me look like a busted can of biscuits.

I sighed and drudged back inside, the sunshine and breeze completely soured by low self-esteem.

At the doctor’s office, a confident blonde walked into the room, the pediatrician. She met my eye, smiled warmly, and began asking questions about my son.

I couldn’t stop my arms from crossing over my stomach. I couldn’t help the constant tugging at my shirt. And as much as I hated myself for it, I resented Dr. Blondie for being so… fit.

In the car, I cranked up “All About That Bass”, trying to convince myself that “every inch of me was perfect from the bottom to the top.” I turned the volume down just long enough to order a spicy chicken sandwich.

“With a large Coke Zero, please.”

So I’m home and unloading Ben from his car seat when two attractive women jog past my driveway pushing their Bobs – freaking bouncy ponytails and everything – chattering back and forth in happy voices.

“Nice weather for a run, right?”

“Yeah! We should get smoothies after”

“OMG yes! And then we can go blue jean shopping!”

Their endorphin-laced happiness annoyed the crap out of me. Who the heck ENJOYS shopping for blue jeans? I grabbed my Wendy’s bag and made the Walk of Shame to my curbside trash.

****

Today, I have a confession to make. It’s a hard, embarrassing truth.

I, Mary Katherine, am a fat mom.

No, don’t argue. I don’t think I’m ugly. I’m just really stinking overweight. It’s the cold, clinically-speaking truth. Sure, I have a million reasons and a thousand excuses, but none of them matter to me anymore. They just don’t. The more time I talk about how I got to this incredibly hefty place, the longer I will stay here.

And I can’t stay here.

Being fat makes me mean. It makes me tired. It makes me miserable to shop with, go to the beach with, and take pictures with. I don’t like to be that person who screens every Facebook picture before they are posted. I don’t like to feel a sour smirk form on my face when a healthier woman shows up wearing the same dress as me. I’m not proud that I’ve avoided social events because I don’t feel confident in my skin.

It’s unfair to me, unfair to my husband, and yes… it’s very unfair to Ben.

How can I worry about childhood obesity if I model poor eating habits at home? How can I teach my child confidence and kindness when I get huffy toward fit women? And how can I focus on fun at the playground when I can’t stop worrying about the back fat showing through my T-shirt?

I’d be lying to say my weight doesn’t affect every area of my life. It does. It’s not that I’m vain, and please don’t worry, I’m not depressed, either. I’m just finally being honest. I am 179 pounds and a size 14. I accept where I am.

Acceptance is the first step toward change.

The next step? Change.

Today I begin my journey from Fat Mom to Fit Mom. Because…

• Watching my son grow up should be reason enough. I want to live longer. Every year I earn with him is worth the sweat.

• I want to live happier. No more hiding in the back of family pictures. No more sketchy instagram cropping. I want to be proud of my body.

• I want to feel comfortable in my skin. I hate looking at a picture and feeling like, who is that? I don’t need to be skinny to be confident. But I do need to be healthy.

• Jealousy is ugly and it doesn’t make me feel good. I’m turning envy into action. I won’t drool over my girlfriend’s blue jeans, I will borrow them. Eventually.

Maybe you are wondering why I would do this publicly. I’m wondering the same thing. I typed and deleted my weight and pants size four times before leaving it. The final resolution was to keep it.

I have two reasons.

1. I hope that someone will join me. If you are overweight and miserable, don’t STAY THERE. We can do this thing.

2. I know that this Mamapedia/ Mom Babble tribe will be a great source of support. I will be reaching out to my Fit Mom friends for recipes, work outs, and lifestyle tips. And I will be sharing them here, alongside my success and failures.

I want to be a better person for myself and for my family. My faith and mind aren’t the only things that need exercise. It turns out, my fanny needs it to.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed out for a run. And I’d appreciate your prayers and support.

Love,

A Fat Mom

Mary Katherine and her son Nugget reside at MomBabble.com. There you can find the dreams, recipes, and musings of a Southern mom. Not a perfect mom. Not a crafty mom. Just a normal, messy, slightly opinionated mama who is obsessed with coffee and front porch swings. Y’all should be friends on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.