I was born big and always stood out among other girls, even as a baby.
Standing at six feet tall, with size ten feet and an 8-inch wrist by the age of 13, I was labelled ‘fat’ from the moment I popped out of the womb, despite not becoming overweight until my mid-teens. Both sides of my family are big, and all of us have struggled with our weight. Unfortunately, this created a toxic and competitive environment, especially among the female family members. That, in turn, led to me having severe self-esteem and confidence issues since childhood. My grandmother and aunts would constantly judge me (and other family members) based on appearance and would belittle me all the time. They played me and my mother off against my aunts and female cousins while constantly offering cakes, sweets, and chocolate as rewards for simply existing. It didn’t help that my mother didn’t know how to say no and mean no, due to her upbringing.
As a result, I’ve never had a good relationship with food but have always tried to make healthy choices as I’ve lived in constant shame of my appearance.
It’s no doubt held me back in life and led me to miss out on many experiences over the years due to a crippling lack of confidence and fear of judgement.
I’ve tried every diet plan under the sun since I was in my teens and at one point even tried medication too. However, for each pound I lost, I eventually gained it (and at least two more on top) back. I even sought weight loss surgery at one point, but after testing, I was told my muscle/bone density was greater than my fat volume, and therefore I wasn’t ‘fat enough’ to qualify for surgery. Despite the doctor himself cruelly referring to me as ‘huge.’
Despite my size and weight, I had always been active and was always fitter and more flexible than my thinner friends—much to their horror. Unfortunately, over recent years, my mental and physical health has significantly declined, and my weight has increased dramatically. Now, I long for the days when I could walk for miles at the drop of a hat, train in kickboxing, or dance for hours on end without any difficulty. Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with ME in 2018, and this has had a terrible impact on my life over the past few years.
I’ve also battled with anxiety and depression since I was eight years old, and now, thirty years later—I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD and Autistic Spectrum Disorder.
This was a lightbulb moment for me, as it explains so much about my early life and also could be somewhat to blame for my weight, due to binge eating in search of dopamine and a restrictive diet due to sensory issues. I’ve found so many of my problems have been blamed on my size since my childhood, by both my family and medical professionals, but now it seems that it was far deeper than that. Additionally, I now suffer from a chronic condition called lymphoedema, which has left me with significant swelling in one leg and my abdomen. This swelling causes a breakdown in the skin, which makes me prone to cellulitis infections, which could potentially kill me.
This condition can be genetic, and there is evidence to suggest that I’ve had it since birth, but it has been exacerbated by my weight and the reduction in physical activity due to my other health issues. It is a condition that can never be cured and will only worsen without compression treatment. Unfortunately, however, my local lymphoedema clinic refuses to provide treatment to anyone with a BMI above thirty, and without access to the clinic, I cannot be prescribed compression garments.
Therefore, the condition will only get worse to the point I will eventually become disabled by it. Despite my GP being fully aware of my weight and my battles with it, it’s been almost fifteen years since I was offered any support with weight loss. Despite all my health struggles throughout my life being blamed on my weight, even if they are not in any way related.
I’m at the point now where I have lost all hope of shifting any weight, feeling that the damage is already done and will be nearly impossible to undo. I would give anything to be seen as ‘normal’ or to at least be accepted for who I am and not written off simply because of my weight. I wish society would learn to be kinder to people who struggle with their weight, as in most cases, it’s a bigger issue than just what we eat. It seems fatphobia is the last acceptable form of prejudice. People say that’s because it’s a
‘Choice’ to be overweight, but it’s not a choice anyone consciously makes, and the battle to overcome it is so hard, only a few people have the strength to win.”