i'm putting my foot down...
...and more body parts than i'd care to admit are jiggling from the sudden impact.
no, really.
it's true.
please witness the following progression of my fat-assedness:
this is me--about 6 years ago, i think--with an old boyfriend (who reads this blog, actually...everyone say 'hi, dan!') after i ran an experiment in anorexia for a couple of months. to this day, i have no idea how i did it. i know that i could never do it again, and i know that were it not for this picture, i would never remember how ABSOLUTELY EFFING SKINNY my face was, but i will never forget how sick i was, after all the not-eating caught up to me.
anyway, blah blah blah, here's the picture:
oh, and here's what the rest of my body looked like at the time...
so, there's that.
that was probably the skinniest i've ever been in my life.
when i began to recover, i looked like this:
see? the face is a little different. i wouldn't call it fat...but it definitely looks different than the first picture.
and, by the by, that's my friend april in that picture, who i haven't seen in about four years. i'm under the impression that she lives in texas somewhere. has anyone seen her?
here's another example of how i looked at a 'normal' weight:
that was me and my two cousins after we won the 'snowbowl'--a family football game that we play before thanksgiving dinner every year in park city.
and this is what i looked like in a bathing suit, with my friend sweeney attempting to snack on my left boob:
(dude, don't make that face. my boobs ARE very snackable. or so i hear. although, as we trek onward through the depths of this progression of fat-assedness...they do beome more like *meals* than *snacks.* hell, i've had days where i felt i was carting around enough boob to feed the third world. but...maybe less talk about the boobs is a good thing. ahem.)
now, i know that most people will think that picture is disgusting. but, to me? i would give anything to look like that again. and, more importantly, i would give anyting to have been able to appreciate myself when i did look like that. i mean, could i have benefitted from a few (hundred) crunches every morning? certainly. but i thought i was ugly and fat then, and i wasn't.
i love that picture--i really do.
i just look so...happy.
i must have been drunk to be acting so free with my belly, but really?
what the fuck?
i'd kill to have that body back.
and, in that picture? i think i look like someone who feels comfortable, and that's a feeling i haven't felt nearly enough in this lifetime.
why, you ask?
because by new year's eve last year (when it turned 2006) i was on a FREE TRIP (to VEGAS, with 75 thousand of my family members, to celebrate my grandpa's 80th birthday) with john, and this was the most comfortable i could look:
don't worry...it doesn't make you a bad person if you're thinking oh my goodness, what happened to her?
it was a very drastic change, that took place not-so-drastically.
it was a million little stresses (and one really big one) that helped me put on weight.
but, just in case the difference wasn't clear enough, take a peek at this close up:
all i'm trying to say is, isn't it clear that this isn't what i'm supposed to look like?
i don't blame you if you're all:
because i feel the exact same way.
(although, i do think it's worth mentioning that even my yucky fat pumpkin face comes with a crown. and a feather boa. because you can only stifle fabulous so much, you know?)
anyway, after that trip--where i should have been at my most fabulous, i tried to put my foot down.
it wasn't a complete failure, as today i look like this:
so, i think i might look a TEENY bit better than i did then, but it's hard to say.
i mean, all of the pictures that i post on this blog--if i say i took them right when i was blogging--that's absolutely the truth. but, it must be considered that i'm taking those pictures myself.
you know, my profile picture is only 4 days old, and i don't think i look like an obese monster in it...but, i took it myself (read: sat at an appropriate angle in front of my computer).
at any rate, i think i weigh at least slightly less than i did in those horrible vegas photos...
but that's really not the point.
i lost (some of) that weight pretty much as soon as we got back from vegas, by working out, and going on the south beach diet. (evidence is chronicled here, here, and here. the relative failure of the plan is discussed here, in case you're interested in that sort of thing.)
pictorial evidence of the (at least somewhat) drastic change that i made in the 2 months between horrible-fat-ass-vegas-adventure and kick-ass-spring-break with my girls can be seen...oh, fuck it.
i was going to make a link, but there are already 6 frillion pictures of me in this entry, so, what the hell?
two months after fat-ass-vegas adventure, i looked like this:
and, you know?
i was proud of that.
i didn't feel great...but i felt ok.
looking back, i feel like it was a really amazing change for such a short amount of time.
but, since that trip?
i've only put weight on.
and on, and on, and on.
i didn't feel comfortable for one single second through all of last summer.
screw a tank top...
i didn't even want to wear a short sleeved shirt.
and EVERY SINGLE DAY i woke up pissed off at myself.
do you know how that feels?
to wake up and hate yourself every single day?
i know there are some of you out there who feel me...
it's terrible.
it's so terrible, that i can't even spend the time to think of a better word for how terrible it is...
i just don't want to think about it anymore.
but, i have to think about it.
now, more than ever.
this whole winter, i kept telling myself i was going to work out.
i was going to get my shit under control; i was going to use the 5 months of frigid weather to my advantage; i was going to excercise myself into oblivion.
i was going to become the kind of healthy that had no need for the south beach diet.
****
on monday, it was like 35 degrees or something in michigan.
on tuesday, it got up to 75.
nothing says
hey fat-ass...weren't you supposed to start working out 4 months ago?
like that kind of sudden change in the weather.
to be honest, i don't want to be writing this post.
i don't want to talk to you about how much the way i look bothers me.
i don't want to talk about how i prefer to not do anything that requires leaving the house on my days off because i can't stand the thought of taking a shower and spending all that time blow-drying my hair, and putting on make-up, and curling and/or straightening hair, and picking out clothes, all the while knowing that no amount of prep i can do will make me feel like i look decent enough to leave the house.
does that sound overdramatic?
of course it does. and, really? i don't want to disappoint you--i come off as so bitchy, so above taking other people's shit.
but, i'm not.
and i take more of my own shit than anyone else could ever possibly hand me.
the thing is, if i can write to you about boones that smell like rotting roadkill, and about my feelings about 9/11, and about my father's death...
i don't know, i feel like at some point i can start telling you the truth about my everyday life, which is this:
i need to lose weight, and i think about this every single second of every single day.
often times, i think about it as i enjoy a mexican pizza from taco bell.
(in fact, i was enjoying a mexican pizza as a began writng this post. but don't tell anyone, ok?)
of course i realize that 90% of people reading this will think 'ok, then get started!
but i know, having been inspired by y's post, and the comments that follow, that there are plenty of people out there who know how i feel.
still, it's not for them that i write this post.
it's for me.
i need to admit this: that i am not happy, and that this thing is bothering me so much that i wish i didn't have to leave the house.
i mean, that's a problem, right?
i refuse to live through another summer where i'm ashamed to wear a short sleeved shirt.
it's entirely possible that i'll never wear a bikini again--but, you know what? that's ok.
but i'm putting my foot down...booty shaking in the aftermath and all...
at the thought of dreading wearing a short sleeved shirt.
i simply cannot put myself through this again.
i'm not morbidly obese...
it can't possibly be that difficult.
all i ask of you is this:
i'm not sharing this because i want you to tell me that i'm pretty.
i know that to do so will be the first instinct of many of you, and if you can't keep it in check, that's ok. i mean, i'm not going to turn down a compliment.
but, you need to understand that you don't REALLY know what i look like.
sure, you've seen recent photos.
you want one from right this very second?
there you go, courtesy of my pretty i-mac. which is much skinnier than i am.
at any rate...
the point of this whole thing is that i just needed to tell someone.
so, i told all of you.
now, i can't pretend like everything's okay.
everything is not okay.
i just need everyone to know that, because obviously i need to be accountable to someone other than myself.
left to my own devices, i will eat mexican pizza and baked potatoes with cheese and brocolli and sour cream and fried mushrooms--omg, fried mushrooms, they are sooooooo good--into oblivion.
so, all i can say is, if you're still reading after all this...
thanks.
i promise i'll be back tomorrow evening with a funny or bitchy story of some sort.
i just needed to get this out, and i thank you from the bottom-most of my fat rolls for listening.
seriously.
no, really.
it's true.
please witness the following progression of my fat-assedness:
this is me--about 6 years ago, i think--with an old boyfriend (who reads this blog, actually...everyone say 'hi, dan!') after i ran an experiment in anorexia for a couple of months. to this day, i have no idea how i did it. i know that i could never do it again, and i know that were it not for this picture, i would never remember how ABSOLUTELY EFFING SKINNY my face was, but i will never forget how sick i was, after all the not-eating caught up to me.
anyway, blah blah blah, here's the picture:
oh, and here's what the rest of my body looked like at the time...
so, there's that.
that was probably the skinniest i've ever been in my life.
when i began to recover, i looked like this:
see? the face is a little different. i wouldn't call it fat...but it definitely looks different than the first picture.
and, by the by, that's my friend april in that picture, who i haven't seen in about four years. i'm under the impression that she lives in texas somewhere. has anyone seen her?
here's another example of how i looked at a 'normal' weight:
that was me and my two cousins after we won the 'snowbowl'--a family football game that we play before thanksgiving dinner every year in park city.
and this is what i looked like in a bathing suit, with my friend sweeney attempting to snack on my left boob:
(dude, don't make that face. my boobs ARE very snackable. or so i hear. although, as we trek onward through the depths of this progression of fat-assedness...they do beome more like *meals* than *snacks.* hell, i've had days where i felt i was carting around enough boob to feed the third world. but...maybe less talk about the boobs is a good thing. ahem.)
now, i know that most people will think that picture is disgusting. but, to me? i would give anything to look like that again. and, more importantly, i would give anyting to have been able to appreciate myself when i did look like that. i mean, could i have benefitted from a few (hundred) crunches every morning? certainly. but i thought i was ugly and fat then, and i wasn't.
i love that picture--i really do.
i just look so...happy.
i must have been drunk to be acting so free with my belly, but really?
what the fuck?
i'd kill to have that body back.
and, in that picture? i think i look like someone who feels comfortable, and that's a feeling i haven't felt nearly enough in this lifetime.
why, you ask?
because by new year's eve last year (when it turned 2006) i was on a FREE TRIP (to VEGAS, with 75 thousand of my family members, to celebrate my grandpa's 80th birthday) with john, and this was the most comfortable i could look:
don't worry...it doesn't make you a bad person if you're thinking oh my goodness, what happened to her?
it was a very drastic change, that took place not-so-drastically.
it was a million little stresses (and one really big one) that helped me put on weight.
but, just in case the difference wasn't clear enough, take a peek at this close up:
all i'm trying to say is, isn't it clear that this isn't what i'm supposed to look like?
i don't blame you if you're all:
because i feel the exact same way.
(although, i do think it's worth mentioning that even my yucky fat pumpkin face comes with a crown. and a feather boa. because you can only stifle fabulous so much, you know?)
anyway, after that trip--where i should have been at my most fabulous, i tried to put my foot down.
it wasn't a complete failure, as today i look like this:
so, i think i might look a TEENY bit better than i did then, but it's hard to say.
i mean, all of the pictures that i post on this blog--if i say i took them right when i was blogging--that's absolutely the truth. but, it must be considered that i'm taking those pictures myself.
you know, my profile picture is only 4 days old, and i don't think i look like an obese monster in it...but, i took it myself (read: sat at an appropriate angle in front of my computer).
at any rate, i think i weigh at least slightly less than i did in those horrible vegas photos...
but that's really not the point.
i lost (some of) that weight pretty much as soon as we got back from vegas, by working out, and going on the south beach diet. (evidence is chronicled here, here, and here. the relative failure of the plan is discussed here, in case you're interested in that sort of thing.)
pictorial evidence of the (at least somewhat) drastic change that i made in the 2 months between horrible-fat-ass-vegas-adventure and kick-ass-spring-break with my girls can be seen...oh, fuck it.
i was going to make a link, but there are already 6 frillion pictures of me in this entry, so, what the hell?
two months after fat-ass-vegas adventure, i looked like this:
and, you know?
i was proud of that.
i didn't feel great...but i felt ok.
looking back, i feel like it was a really amazing change for such a short amount of time.
but, since that trip?
i've only put weight on.
and on, and on, and on.
i didn't feel comfortable for one single second through all of last summer.
screw a tank top...
i didn't even want to wear a short sleeved shirt.
and EVERY SINGLE DAY i woke up pissed off at myself.
do you know how that feels?
to wake up and hate yourself every single day?
i know there are some of you out there who feel me...
it's terrible.
it's so terrible, that i can't even spend the time to think of a better word for how terrible it is...
i just don't want to think about it anymore.
but, i have to think about it.
now, more than ever.
this whole winter, i kept telling myself i was going to work out.
i was going to get my shit under control; i was going to use the 5 months of frigid weather to my advantage; i was going to excercise myself into oblivion.
i was going to become the kind of healthy that had no need for the south beach diet.
****
on monday, it was like 35 degrees or something in michigan.
on tuesday, it got up to 75.
nothing says
hey fat-ass...weren't you supposed to start working out 4 months ago?
like that kind of sudden change in the weather.
to be honest, i don't want to be writing this post.
i don't want to talk to you about how much the way i look bothers me.
i don't want to talk about how i prefer to not do anything that requires leaving the house on my days off because i can't stand the thought of taking a shower and spending all that time blow-drying my hair, and putting on make-up, and curling and/or straightening hair, and picking out clothes, all the while knowing that no amount of prep i can do will make me feel like i look decent enough to leave the house.
does that sound overdramatic?
of course it does. and, really? i don't want to disappoint you--i come off as so bitchy, so above taking other people's shit.
but, i'm not.
and i take more of my own shit than anyone else could ever possibly hand me.
the thing is, if i can write to you about boones that smell like rotting roadkill, and about my feelings about 9/11, and about my father's death...
i don't know, i feel like at some point i can start telling you the truth about my everyday life, which is this:
i need to lose weight, and i think about this every single second of every single day.
often times, i think about it as i enjoy a mexican pizza from taco bell.
(in fact, i was enjoying a mexican pizza as a began writng this post. but don't tell anyone, ok?)
of course i realize that 90% of people reading this will think 'ok, then get started!
but i know, having been inspired by y's post, and the comments that follow, that there are plenty of people out there who know how i feel.
still, it's not for them that i write this post.
it's for me.
i need to admit this: that i am not happy, and that this thing is bothering me so much that i wish i didn't have to leave the house.
i mean, that's a problem, right?
i refuse to live through another summer where i'm ashamed to wear a short sleeved shirt.
it's entirely possible that i'll never wear a bikini again--but, you know what? that's ok.
but i'm putting my foot down...booty shaking in the aftermath and all...
at the thought of dreading wearing a short sleeved shirt.
i simply cannot put myself through this again.
i'm not morbidly obese...
it can't possibly be that difficult.
all i ask of you is this:
i'm not sharing this because i want you to tell me that i'm pretty.
i know that to do so will be the first instinct of many of you, and if you can't keep it in check, that's ok. i mean, i'm not going to turn down a compliment.
but, you need to understand that you don't REALLY know what i look like.
sure, you've seen recent photos.
you want one from right this very second?
there you go, courtesy of my pretty i-mac. which is much skinnier than i am.
at any rate...
the point of this whole thing is that i just needed to tell someone.
so, i told all of you.
now, i can't pretend like everything's okay.
everything is not okay.
i just need everyone to know that, because obviously i need to be accountable to someone other than myself.
left to my own devices, i will eat mexican pizza and baked potatoes with cheese and brocolli and sour cream and fried mushrooms--omg, fried mushrooms, they are sooooooo good--into oblivion.
so, all i can say is, if you're still reading after all this...
thanks.
i promise i'll be back tomorrow evening with a funny or bitchy story of some sort.
i just needed to get this out, and i thank you from the bottom-most of my fat rolls for listening.
seriously.
posted by tiffany at 12:53 AM
15 Comments:
I will tell you you're hot. Compliments are awesome!
And I will also tell you to do something.
If it's to tell yourself that you're hot, put on a bikini and go and dance in the rain, that's awesome.
If it's to start some sort of strenuous exercise program, sure, whatever makes you happy.
Just as long as that IS what makes you happy.
Cos you are hot. And I'm hot. And we should be happy. Cos we're hot. Did you get the hotness memo?
Oh good lord, Tiff. In every single one of those pictures--"fat", "skinny", "pumpkinface", and all the other innaccurate descriptions you chose as captions--you look completely, absolutely, 100%, fine. Do you really think that majority of the people reading your post, whether they are regulars or just one-time surfers, will really say to themselves "oh my, what a cow"?
Puuhlease. What we see is red hair, apple cheeks, and occasionally hipster glasses. And I know, you offered the disclaimer that we don't know what you really look like, as you've never posted a shot of this "massive" ass you keep telling us about, but seriously, Tiff. If any of us met you in person, what would we see? Red hair, apple cheeks, and occasionally hipster glasses.
Well, I guess most of us would also say you're short--unless you just pose with giants in all your photos.
:)
Ok.
#1 - THANK YOU!
Why? Because you put into words how I feel everyday. I wake up knowing I need to take action. Yet, its cereal for breakfast, sugared up coffee, bread for lunch, snacks every minute in between and crap for dinner.
#2 - You do look great! Love your hair.
#3 - THANK YOU. Seriously, I know exactly where you are coming from. My recent break up, new move and stresses at work are no longer my excuses. Let's do this together. TOnight I am going to do 25 sit ups, (hopefully, I can count that high) and 3 minutes on the stepper. Stop by my blog and yell at me if I don't do it or post about it.
Hello?! Have you met me?! I AM YOU! Seriously? This is how I have felt for my ENTIRE life. Really. I was always the funny one, the smart one and oh yes, I had such a PRETTY FACE. But I was NEVER the skinny one. EVER. I need your email. We need a heart to heart. Pronto.
DUDE.
I could have written this post, almost word for word. (Minus the Vegas part cuz you know I've barely left Omaha.)
I tried the-anorexic/bulemic-diet my Freshman year of highschool and I got down to a BEAUTIFUL weight doing it (until my parents intervened). And I remember thinking I was STILL a fatass at that weight back then (I should have appreciated it!!) and then one thing happened and another thing happened and things slid out of my control and I kept gaining weight. It's been at it's worst the past 3 years, starting right after my back surgery in 2004.
Now I look back at my gradual progression into fatassedness and I'm just ashamed. So ashamed and disgusted, in fact, that I don't have ANY pics of myself posted on my blog and I never will. Ever. Ever. Ever. (You are MUCH braver than I.)
Not only that, but for years I had myself convinced that my weight was the whole reason I remained single and lonely for so many years. (This belief was reaffirmed by guys who would tell me word-for-word that I was too fat for them. yes, WOW.)
And no matter how much I hate myself and berate myself, I don't DO anything about it.
So, enough of my long commenting. I just want you to know that SERIOUSLY, I know EXACTLY how you feel.
And I have no advice that will help because it doesn't freakin help me either!
Dude, (I know I say dude a lot, sorry) I just read the above comments from other people...
Maybe we need a women bloggers weight loss community. to help and encourage girls to lose the weight they so desperately want to lose. including me.
we could make it fun and shit. i don't know. i'm feeling ambitious lately. i'm thinking of buying a real domain name for what the blog too. maybe then what the blog could host our weight loss group thingie.
OKAY, so i'm just yapping away in your comments, scaring away your regulars, instead of stalking you via email like I should be doing!
Honestly, I think you look the worst in your "skinny" pic, your face looks gaunt and drawn.
Granted you haven't showed any recent pics of your body but Tiffany, (and I think you know me well enough to know I don't BS) YOU HAVE AN ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL FACE!
Hell all of thie pics I have posted are only good ones. You don't see the pics in which my nose looks like you could take shelter under it during a heavy rain or the ones that prove that I have next to no chin.
I do hope you lose weight but only because that is what you want and will make you happy. I don't think that you are a fat as you think you are. BTW, I may be low in my weight category but I still have the jiggly arm fat thing going on. It is rare that people are actually happy with their bodies.
Just want to say I'm proud of you because I know how hard it must have been to put that all down. You ROCK. YO. Love ya and miss ya!
jen! you completely stole my idea!
i really think it's a good one. maybe a blog where everyone can post about weight issues and stuff. not really the biggest loser but if everyone felt encouraged to do something or feel awesome or something?
i'm rambling. you can take over now.
i remember when you were eating something like 900 calories a day. i agree with the tall one and i know i can't do much to help right now, but there shall be many walks pushing a stroller(up hills if we can)and maybe a dog(we have to work on tim). that should help both of us because god only knows what i'm gonna look like. love you.
If there was anything anyone could say that would help, I wish I knew what it was.
I wonder if it's the extra pounds you don't like, of if it's really you you don't like?
Maybe that's why you make the food choices you do? I mean, even before you eat whatever it is, you know you're going to feel bad about yourself for choosing to.
I realise now that I maintain my own abusive relationship with food so I can feel bad about myself for what I do rather than for who I am.
I think I'd rather believe my life has limits because I'm too fat/too thin/too short/too tall/ too shy/too loud/too blue/too green/not enough dots/too many spots to do or be what I want, rather than admit to myself that those limits are because of me.
I wonder if I'm addicted to food or it I'm addicted to feeling bad.
Because this is, after all, all about me.
*ahem*
ANYWAY
You are a very pretty girl with an intelligent wit and a whole lot of charisma, and that's just the minute sliver of you you've allowed me to meet. Tiff, you are so much more than the size you wear. I wish you could feel as passionately about that as you do about your weight.
xx
i just might cry forever. You, my brave redheaded
child. Amazing girl that you are!
I'm way out of date on reading my favorite blogs, but I hope not to late to say you are pretty. (except, I'm not too sure about the one picture you had for a while where you were picnhing your cheeks - that looked painful). And you have hair I would kill for, cursed as I was with baby's hair. As for weight loss/exercise/whatever - do what makes you feel strong and healthy and good. The rest doesn't matter.
Oh, and that bit about the prayer to baby Jesus watching Baby Einstein? Made me laugh hard. Reminded me of the line in the Green Day song, "jsus filling out paperwork now.." I always liked that image.
oh freckle-face! I've always looked up to you, and will continue to do so forever and ever...no matter what! I want you to be happy..let me know if there's anything I can do (like perhaps the kick thinger from the cheerleaders on SNL, or maybe even a Mary Catherine Galliger impersonation by saying "Superstar" and falling to one knee). whatever it takes I LOVE YOU BIGGIE BUNCHES freckle face!
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