This is me on my wedding day, October 16, 2009. I was shocked to see these pictures. I cried when I saw these pictures. Granted, my wedding day wasn't traditional, but it was just a special as any big soiree and I looked like this. This is me at my absolute heaviest. 218 pounds.  I am totally ashamed that I let this happen to myself. This was at a point in my life where taking care of myself was the absolute last thing on my agenda. Obviously.

I think anyone who has ever been heavy knows what I'm feeling as I'm sitting here typing this, staring at this image. I feel sick to my stomach and I cannot help but sit back and cry. This was also a point in my life where I was horribly depressed whether or not I wanted to admit it. I fed my pain with food. I didn't care. My body is supposed to be a temple and I DIDN'T CARE.


I was always thin. I was a stork. At least that's what my brothers called me. I danced ballet, I rode my bike all over the neighborhood. I was a skinny skinny kid. I would try out for sports i.e. basketball, volleyball, track, but would always quit because I never felt like I had the support I needed to continue. Something in me always told me just to give up and quit. Eventually I quit ballet, I quit piano, I quit running around the neighborhoods.

By the time I was a junior in highschool, we were required to take P.E. anymore and at the time, it was great! No more forced exercise, yay! (If only I knew then...) Eventually I started to notice that my super-sized double quarter pounder meals started to leave their mark. I started gaining weight. Not a ton of weight, but enough that my clothing sizes got a bit bigger. By the time I graduated, I'd gained 10-15 pounds. Ok, so what!?

My terrible eating habits only worsened by working in restaurants and being totally and completely lazy. By the time I was 19, I had gained another 15 pounds. Then at age 20, I became a mother of a beautiful baby girl, Kara. She was my everything. After I had her, I dropped a little weight and I was happy for that! But, the role of the single mother takes its toll, no matter how easy I had it. I lived with my parents, but I still worked and went to school full time.  Exercise wasn't even in my vocabulary at that point. By age 22 I was back up and at a higher weight than when I got pregnant. 185. I met my husband in 2004 and we started dating 8 months after we met. We were happy! We ate out...and ate out...and ate out. He stayed thin, I however did not. By 2009, I was 218 pounds. I still remember the day that I stepped on the scale and it said 200. I cried and cried and cried and vowed that that was it. No more. Obviously that didn't stick.

I went through a lot of depression and had very high stress levels. At one point, not only was I a "single" mother, but had 3 jobs and went to school full time. I didn't have time to think about healthy food or exercise!

Ok ok...this is getting long so I'll get to the point. We just had our 3 child almost 8 months ago and because nursing him has gone so well, I dropped almost 50 pounds. NOT something that I ever would've been able to do on my own. I owe my son my life. Because of him and dropping this weight, I have some vigor and drive back in my life as far as staying healthy. That 50 pounds jump started my drive to make myself better, not only for my own sanity, but for my children! They deserve so much more than a mom that won't go play soccer with them, or a mom that is too tired to chase them around the park.  I WANT to be healthy! I don't want to quit anymore!

I am starting Insanity tomorrow. Insane, right? 60 days to a better me. Don't I deserve that much? I'm gonna need all of the support and encouragement one can give!  I will never look at another picture of myself and cry. Ever.