So. I'm going to do this. I'm hoping that putting this out there can serve as inspiration to others and an accountability tool for me, when I want to give up.  Plus, how embarassing will it be if I look back on this in a year and nothing has changed?

I've been overweight for what seems like my entire life, but I can I remember the very first time I noticed my hips. It was in fifth grade and I had just cut some AMAZING acid wash jeans into cut-off shorts (which I had planned to wear with teal stirrup pants and an over-sized colorful button down shirt, knotted at the bottom. Thanks, 1992!). I was standing in the bathroom, hoping to admire my work, when I found that I didn't quite look like the other girls in my class who wore the exact same outfit. Something was amiss, and I was so puzzled because I couldn't figure out what it was. I can't recall the exact feeling, but I know that it was something close to disappointment, maybe disgust, and then some embarrassment thrown in for good measure. It felt awful, and I don't know that I've been content with my reflection since that day.

I'd never been teased by my peers about my weight, or anything for that matter. I've always been the funny girl, the friendly girl, the easy going girl, so I suppose it just never occurred to other kids my age to make a big deal about weight. My family, on the other hand, was a different story. I'm the oldest of my siblings and cousins, and until I was 4, I was the only child and grandchild in my immediate family. Let me be clear: I was doted on, and I'm surprised I'm not brattier than I am now, because I got ALL THE ATTENTION. I was not mistreated or abused and I there is no doubt in my mind that I am loved. BUT- there was always this underlying focus on my appearance. I was told constantly, regarding my tummy, to "suck it in", and there was a lot of "You have such a pretty face, now if you just lost weight". I didn't pay a lot of attention to it as a small kid, but that day in front of the mirror, it became my truth.

I started going to the gym 4-5 times a week in January of 2013. At my initial weigh-in, I was 305 pounds (not my highest weight, but we don't need to get into all that...). It took me THREE MONTHS to lose any weight, but as of April 28, I am at 290.8 pounds. I've changed my eating habbits, but only in terms of portion control and cutting out ridiculous extra calories, like soda and sweet tea.

I have a lot of reasons for starting this journey. I want to like the way I look. I want to wear cute clothes. I want to have kids, and I know it will be difficult to conceive weighing as much as I do. And when I have kids, I want to be able to run around and play with them. I want to be healthier. I want to run a 5k (seriously, who wants to do a Color Run with me?) I don't want to die of weight related causes when I'm 50, and ultimately, I'm worried that's exactly what's going to happen. I want to be comfortable in my own skin, alive and running marathons.

Just kidding, running a marahon sounds awful.