This just seems fitting for today. Here’s a repost of a previous blog. Enjoy!

Friday, January 28, 2011

Kicking and Screaming

By now, you have heard some version or another of my story. If not, here’s a synopsis, I’m a product of childhood obesity and to date I’ve lost 155 lbs. Yes, 1-5-5! Ideally, I still have to lose another 80 pounds to meet my goal weight. That’s a total of 235 pounds. Yeah, I know, those numbers are inconceivable to most. Those numbers are not for the weak-hearted.

By far, battling obesity is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Battling obesity isn’t just about losing the weight. This is so much more than a physical transformation. It’s about finding myself and learning to love myself. It’s about talking down the demons on a regular, “You’re fat and always will be. “You’re ugly.” “You can’t.” Every single day, I’m at war with myself emotionally and mentally, and boy do I the have the scars to prove it. So, I apologize if I’m always talking about my battle with obesity. I apologize for always complaining about how hard this is. But, if I’m going to fight this battle I will not do it quietly. This is not something you go through in silence. I am kicking and screaming the whole way.

Yesterday, while at the gym I was complaining to my trainer friend about how fat I still am. He listened as he always does, and he also reminded me of how far I’ve come. He’s right. I’ve come along way. Ironically, that’s exactly why I am frustrated, I’ve come so far, but yet have so far to go. It’s overwhelming. Sure, I’m proud, but this is ONLY round seven of a heavyweight bout. I still have five more rounds to go. I’m tired, wiped out, and downright exhausted. But, I’m way too stubborn and prideful to quit. Instead, I keep tighten up my gloves and getting back in the ring. Yeah, I fuss, I complain, and some days I cry. I think I have every right to do so. So, if you would, please just bear with me when I go off on my tirades. After all, I’m in the midst of kicking obesity to the curb. This is no small feat.

 *Reminder to self: You’ve come a long, long way, baby!*
Chrisetta Mosley

Chrisetta Mosley

I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!

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