"I Wanna be Bad..."

The title of this post is a reference to the Willa Ford song from the 80's or 90's. The thing about my weight issue is that it's been one of the few negatives in a very blessed life. I had a pretty idyllic childhood...the oldest of 4 children, my Dad is a retired NYC Firefighter, my Mom a retired teacher. We lived very close to my cousins in a great area and went to amazing schools. School always came easily to me, although I did let it stress me out more than I should have (more on my anxious nature at another time.) I was by no means one of the "cool kids", but I had friends in all different groups. I was president of the Honor Society, in the school musicals and orchestra, and was always volunteering for something or other. I was accepted early admission to Dartmouth College, my dream school, and, while it was hard being away from home, I had a wonderful 4 years, and Dartmouth still holds a special place in my heart. I majored in German and minored in Biology, and I had the opportunity to travel to Germany 3 times...once in HS, once in College, and once as a 30th birthday present to myself.

After College I studied to become and optometrist, and had the best 4 years of my life! I met 2 of my very dearest friends during that time. I did a residency in Pediatric Optometry, and then stayed on as faculty at the school for 7 years. In 2007, I bought a home and landed the perfect job (which literally fell into my lap!) That year I also adopted 2 of my 3 rescue dogs, and a year later I became an Aunt to a beautiful little boy and girl. At no point in my life was there something I tried out for or applied to that I didn't get. And yet, food was always winning the fight. When I told an elderly relative that I had graduated 2nd in my class from Junior High she said to me, "I always knew you'd be the smartest, if not the fattest." Yeah. I could not get the weight off and keep it off. If I'm going to play psychologist, I will say that food/eating/my weight was the one area of my life where I allowed myself to not be "perfect." I wanted to be bad, and with a gallon of ice cream, or an entire pizza, I could be. As a child, there were people who didn't want me to overeat, and doing so was a sort of rebellion I guess (hence the sneaking food into my room, hiding it in a drawer, and locking the door.) As an adult I realized that no one really cared anymore. The decisions I made were not hurting anyone but me. There was no reason to feel guilty for overeating, because no one was watching or judging. I only had myself to answer to now.