A Reason, A Season, A Lifetime


For the month of November, to honor Thanksgiving lots of folks post what they are thankful for on their Facebook pages. Of all the Facebook interactions I find this one worthy. So every other day or so I try to chime in. Here’s what I wrote on Sunday: “I am thankful for the support and love of so many. They may have entered my life for a reason, season, or a lifetime. No matter, I’m grateful. Thank you for helping me along this amazing journey. Everyday I get to help someone in some way. Through words. Through actions. Through food.”

I’d like to expand on this post a little. People enter our lives for many reasons and sometimes they are meant to be in our lives forever. Forever is a mighty long time and everyone is not meant to be in your life in that capacity. That’s okay.

You may come out to your car after a movie and find your car battery is dead. A Good Samaritan gives you a jump. A reason. You are working on a major project and someone with a necessary skill set or product comes along and donates their time and resources. A season. Then there are your loved ones — family and friends who will be there with you through thick and thin. A lifetime.

We may not be in contact anymore for whatever reason. Our time together has expired. But I still appreciate you and what you brought to my life. It’s the sum of my experiences, exchanges with others that make me who I am. Forever grateful, thankful for reasons, seasons, and a lifetime.

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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