The Best guest post to date….by Patrice from Lead The Way Out
I noticed that I started gaining weight at the age of 5 when I started kindergarten. Since then, I’ve always been conscience about my size and physical presence. I’ve always been the fat girl in every single environment I’ve been in. Even though I was extremely active throughout my adolescence (playing outside, riding bikes, and played center on the basketball team in middle and high school), I never seemed to lose weight. Reflecting back on my childhood, I noticed that it wasn’t my activity level, it was how I ate. Being a black female, born and raised in Detroit, MI, kool-aid, sweet ice tea, homemade baked goods, and the typical soul food were staples in my household. My father passed when I was 10, so my mom was left with the responsibilities of raising me and helping out my older sister (who is also deceased) and my niece. I remember we were always in a rush every morning, so my mom would stop by McDonalds for breakfast. We would order an Egg McMuffin with Cheese, a hash brown, orange juice, and a heated cheese danish. I was never a really big eater, so it wasn’t the quantity; it was the quality of food I consumed.
In high school, our breakfast tradition continued. For lunch, I would have a bagel and an ice cream cookie sandwich, and dinner would either be more takeout or a home cooked meal that my mom would make in bulk so that it would last a few days. I participated in sports because it was fun, not for weight loss purposes, even though losing weight was always on my mind since I was little. It was hard for me accepting my differences. Not only was I obese, but I was a black female, a tomboy who covered my excess weight with men’s clothes, with short hair. I lived in a predominately black neighborhood, and went to school in southwest Detroit which is mostly a Hispanic community. Growing up in these kinds of environments allowed me to see diversity work at its best. Everyone was different in their own way, but we all got along. An attitude I wish the entire world, especially corporate America, would adopt.
Anytime I experienced some sort of discrimination, I blamed it on my appearance and sexuality. First and foremost, my attire was a result of covering up what I like to call my “fat rolls”; however, some will misinterpret it as a sign of my sexual orientation. As a result, I continued to be much more self-conscience, which led me to try a few fad diets assuming that if I was smaller, I would be able to wear more form fitting clothes and would not feel like the sore thumb in the crowd. These fad diets were successful, but they were not long-term. Now, I naturally eat more healthy foods 80% of the time, and I continue to work out in a gym at least 3 times a week, a healthy hobby I picked up in college. Unfortunately, the weight is still not coming off.
What I find that many websites and blogs that focus on health and fitness fail to acknowledge is how stress and mental illness can affect your progress. Despite my efforts, I strongly feel that my life experiences, including the deaths of multiple immediate family members, have resulted in me suffering with a mild case of depression and anxiety that is stalling my progress. Mental health is a topic that is not talked about as much as it should in the black community, and I think this is something that should be addressed. Similar to how the LGBT community is not widely accepted in the black community, I believe the same goes for those who suffer with a form of mental illness. These people are left with no where to turn and find comfort and relief in drugs, alcohol, food, and other forms of substance abuse.
I think as a community, we need to be more accepting of one another. In addition, we need to learn how we can begin to love the person we see in the mirror despite our differences. I think we are our biggest critic. Many who suffer mental illness or obesity will find that we tend to beat ourselves up before anyone else does; and this is where we have it backwards. In order to be accepted and loved by others, we must first learn how to accept and love ourselves. Throughout my 28 years of life, this is what I’ve learned. The hard part is putting it to action. With patience, hard work, determination, and perseverance, I know that I will be able to be more loving to myself, which will lead to a decrease in stress and depression, and my body will have no choice but to respond by releasing some of this fat and extra baggage I’ve been carrying for far too long.
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