Sooo I keep sitting down to write a post and then my motivation wanes… I am just not feelin it right now, and am taking a break until I feel like blogging again
In the mean time, here is a guest post from Kelly! She has a story to tell and wanted to share it with all of you, please enjoy!
Greetings, Amazing Asset Readers! My name is Kelly, and I blog over at Foodie Fiasco. I am so incredibly honored that the wonderful Tessa is letting me take over for this post, and I hope I don’t bore you too much.
So just a little bit about me… I am a fourteen year old kitchen-happy foodie who lives in the beautiful Los Angeles, CA. I like to think of myself as a photographer, and an aspiring yogi and runner. But the journey to get to where I am now was a long one.
I live in a place where your appearance means a lot. I know the way you look matter to some degree wherever you are, but in Los Angeles, it comprises almost all of people’s impressions of you.
Growing up, I was always the lonely fat kid reading in the corner. I was outcasted at school, and was often made fun of for my weight. I didn’t let it bother me too much, because, after a while, I was just so used to it. So apparently, that made it okay.
I was okay with the harsh, critical looks I got.
I was okay with being judged for my size.
I was okay with being alone because no one at my school would accept me and my dress size.
So at some point, I had to stop being okay with what was going on around me. That point was at the beginning of seventh grade. At the time, I was twelve years old, 5’3″, 159 pounds, size 8-10, and desperate.
I began my journey by going to a lovely dietitian named Deborah. After examining my atrocious, processed-food-filled diet, she put me on a 1500 calorie a day meal plan. I, always horrific at following plans, proceeded to ignore her.
I started out doing what I was told… but that was bound to end at some point. (Kids…) Eating just under 1500 calories to start, I lost seven pounds in the first two weeks.
Deborah warned me that was too fast, I nodded and smiled, and proceeded to ignore her. Again.
I gradually drifted downward towards a thousand calories, and, not surprisingly, the number on the scale went down as well.
As time went on, I became more and more impatient. I believed every person who saw me, especially my classmates, would be disgusted with my appearance. My self image only went from bad to worse.
One busy day, I had little time to eat, so I just… didn’t.
Come my visit with Deborah, she admonished me for not eating properly, and sternly warned me to never eat less than the 800 calories I ate that day. I nodded and smiled, and proceeded to ignore her. Again.
I quickly discovered that the less I ate, the faster I lost weight. Problem solved! I should just eat as little as I can, and the weight will be off! 800…700…600…500…400…
Once I was physically able, I trained myself to believe that eating 400 calories a day was not only possible, but the best thing for me to do.
I only live with my mom, and she was fine with letting me cook for myself. She didn’t know I was starving, or she wouldn’t have let me feed myself. I didn’t tell her how little I was eating, and I was very careful not to eat in front of her…or anyone, for that matter.
I was very sensitive to people watching me eat, and I was ashamed to go out with my friends only to eat some vegetables and tea, or scrutinize the menu’s nutritional facts. The looks I got from my loved ones burned my soul, and hurt me on a level I don’t even understand.
Deborah begged me to eat more. When she threatened to tell my mom I was starving myself, it was my turn to beg. I couldn’t fathom eating anymore than I was, because I was just so convinced what I was doing was right.
How did you function on 400-500 calories a day when you were so young?
Well… I didn’t. Not really. If I learned anything form this, it’s that it is not physically possible to be happy while eating 500 calories a day. And happy I wasn’t.
Actually, I was quite miserable. Other things in my life just didn’t seem to be going right. I was unhappy in school, I thought I was being bullied silently by my classmates, and I thought my mother was eternally angry with me.
I was blaming everyone else for what I was doing to myself.
Looking back on it, a lot of what was going on was in my head. When you’re starving, you can’t think straight, and everything around you seems like it’s about to collapse.
But in truth, I don’t think my classmates were actually bullying me, I think they were just being twelve year olds. But to an on-the-edge starved person, that could certainly seem like they were out to get me. (Which I really don’t think they were.) And my mother certainly wasn’t angry! She was just so worried she couldn’t see straight.
I would weigh myself 4-5 times a day, and would panic whenever the number went up even slightly. I felt like a failure, like I was suffocating, and the world was falling in on me. Doesn’t sound too fun, does it?
Again, I refused to admit I was doing anything wrong. It always had to be someone else’s fault.
I would refuse to go to school. When I was sent anyway, I felt like I was being ignored. I would miss my classes and just cry in the bathroom.
While I was whining to my poor mother, she found a lump in her breast. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.
You better believe I cleaned up my act. I ate like a human being, attended school without complaint, and tried to make ammends with the people I had hurt.
So here I am, a year and a half later. My mom finished her radiation last month, is officially in recovery, and will have another surgery in June. I am now fourteen years old, and, after a year of maintenance, gained 10 pounds.
I swore to myself I wouldn’t make a repeat of last year, and I decided to lose the weight by only slightly restricting my calorie intake and really just eating lot more protein, and a lot less carb. After a whole month of lots of exercise an restricted eating, I lost one measly pound. I was mortified.
So, I was very tempted to starve myself again. I knew it worked, and I won’t have to do it very long. Eating 500 calories a day for a few weeks would take the weight right off.
But I won’t do it.
There are too many wonderful people like Tessa who are working to overcome their issues, and I cannot let myself fall back into the trap. It is the support of wonderful people like you that keep people like me eating the calories they should.
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a lovely day!