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I Wasn't A Teenage Fat Girl
March 25, 2005
I was going through all the "Dear Fatty" messages recently while re-designing the website and I realized the majority of people who write to her are teenage girls obsessed with their appearance. Nice to know nothing's changed since I was a teenager (note the heavy sarcasm). It makes me sad to see so many girls just like me with such low self-esteem that they're willing to do anything - even risk their own lives - just to fit into what society deems "attractive".
A little history about me. I graduated from a private, Catholic high school in 1982. Although I didn't see it at the time, our restrictive uniforms were a blessing in disguise. However, we were only required to wear them during the winter which left us at the mercy of whatever was in style for the other half of the school year. Nevermind the fact I was only in the 10th graduating class and the school was still pretty slack about enforcing the rules (they've since gone to a year-round, extremely strict, "everyone buys the same thing from the same vendor" policy). So there I was, feeling very insecure about myself as all teenagers do but I tried to do my best.
I was very active in all the "artsy fartsy" programs: marching band, chorus, drama, concert band, school plays. During all 4 years of high school it was rare that I was ever home before dinnertime due to some after school activity I was involved in. Looking back I realize that I was probably in the best shape of my life but I didn't see it that way at the time.
I had several friends but never considered myself popular. I wasn't a cheerleader, didn't drink or do drugs and wasn't sexually active. I always envied all the popular girls because the boys just couldn't get enough of them. Me, they ignored. And somewhere in there the diets started. I had a few Fat Girl friends who were always trying this diet or that exercise fad so I decided to join them. I realize now that I didn't need to lose weight - I needed to tone my muscles. During my sophomore year when all this started, I was 5 feet 9 1/2 inches and weighed between 135 and 140 pounds. My BMI (Body Mass Index) was 20 which is the low end of the normal range. Still, it seemed everyone around me was losing weight or trying some diet. Three of my friends were on a diet, my mom was on a diet, the Scarsdale Diet was all the rage so I figured what the hell.
The problem with this thinking is that I WASN'T FAT. As it turns out, I hit a growth spurt somewhere around my 14th or 15th birthday which accounted for my dramatic weight gain in a short span of time. (I think I gained 10 pounds in a matter of months which convinced me I was fat). But I started on what would be a long road of diet attempts, failures and heartache. Only recently did my father discover I was doing all this dieting (I never hid it - in fact the Scarsdale Diet book was my mom's) and he was both shocked and disturbed. He told me, "If I'd known you were doing that I would have stopped you" then shamed himself for not paying more attention to his kids. (Before anyone asks, my parents were - and still are - great.)
So as I went through my teens and entered into my early 20's, I continued my on-again/off-again romance with dieting despite the fact I wasn't fat. Nine months after the birth of my son, at the age of 23, I was so physically fit and healthy that I can't blame one pound of my fat on ever being pregnant. But did I know that at the time? No, of course not. All I noticed was the fact I was still single so, I reasoned with myself, I must be fat.
Years continued to go by and it wasn't until I was in my late 20's or early 30's that I really did get fat. An emotional disorder, several attempts to quit smoking and the natural slowing of my metabolism all caused my body to slow down and start putting on the pounds. I could sit here and blame my fat on any of these things but the fact is that I was in complete denial. I'd tell myself things like, "You aren't really fat unless you hit 250 pounds" or "You aren't fat - it's that damn [bipolar disorder] medication making you gain weight" or even "You aren't truly fat until you can no longer shop for clothes at Wal-Mart." Yeah, complete denial. But here's the thing about denial: we can get so comfortable there that we don't ever get out of it so no healthy changes can be made. And that's exactly what I did for the next 10 years: denied I was fat, denied I was bipolar, denied I was beautiful, denied I was worthy of love.
Finally, during my late 30's, I came to terms not only with being bipolar but also with the fact that I was fat. I started to learn how to love and accept myself unconditionally exactly as I was. And my newfound confidence radiated from me and attracted people to me. Finally, people were noticing me for me and not how I looked. I can't help but see the irony and smile: when I was thin, I thought I was fat and had no confidence so I led a very lonely, chaotic, self-destructive lifestyle. Now I really am fat but my life is no longer empty and meaningless.
So what is my point in all this? Well, for starters, it's 2:30 in the morning and I should be in bed. No, my point is this and I can't say it enough: beauty comes from within. In case you missed that, BEAUTY COMES FROM WITHIN! All those years I honestly thought I was fat. One day I might put some pictures up here so you can see just how skewed my perception of my body truly was. I sometimes look at pictures of me from my younger years and just shake my head when I remember how much I disliked myself. And here I am some 20 years later with more fat, more confidence and more love for myself than I ever could have imagined.
Be good to yourself. Take care of yourself. Be healthy and remember: it's what you think of yourself that matters the most.
~ Bertha
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