The Mirror Doesn't Lie

I have spent a great deal of my life worrying about my weight and my looks. I'm one of those people who would rather be hit by a truck than gain 30 pounds. I began dieting, with my mother's enthusiastic approval, when I was about 14. When I was 17, I went to the doctor for my pre-college physical, and I weighed 116 pounds. He told me not to gain any more, but of course at college, with the stress, I did. I ate a lot, and gained about 11 pounds.

In fact, my biggest regret is that during my college years, I allowed myself to obsess over my weight and my love life and did not enjoy the variety of experiences available on campus. I wish I'd taken more dance classes, and not pushed myself to get through early (I was only 21 and two months when I graduated). I felt unattractive and therefore unworthy of any young man's attention. Actually, I was only about 10 pounds overweight.

Well, I managed to get married a couple years after graduating, and lost weight (about 13 pounds) without even trying just after I got engaged. I remember, at about age 35, getting on the scale and being shocked that my weight had "ballooned" to 117 pounds--what I weighed four months after giving birth to my son! I didn't have a weight problem until my thyroid went south when I was 37.

I went to Weight Watchers at age 43 and lost 20 pounds, a few of which I gained back, then lost a couple of times.

Still, I was a food addict. I worried every day about my weight. I love chocolate and sweets--cookies are my favorite food. I love to bake, and then eat what I bake.

Then I got cancer in the spring of 2006. I was about six pounds over what I like to weigh when I was diagnosed. I went through surgery and radiation, and then took Tamoxifen for a couple of months. It made me so depressed I begged the doctor to let me stop. Well, I did. Then I began to eat.

I gained about 12 more pounds and I have not been able to lose it since. Now, it has become a real problem because my self-esteem has plummeted, and I have to get a dress for my daughter's wedding in July. I have never been this heavy for this long. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's two sizes for me. (I am very small-boned.) Good thing I do Jazzercise three or four times a week, or I'd be a whale.

I can't figure out why I cannot seem to stop. I have lost weight before, and I feel a lot better when my clothes fit. I have had to replace nearly all my pants this past year. But it's hard to go into the stores and face the truth in the dressing-room mirror.

I have said that being overweight is like having a ball and chain around your ankle and the key in your hand, and being too afraid, or too lazy, to lean down and unlock it. I am not sure what eating is solving for me (maybe it's menopause!) but until I do figure it out, I have to basically take one day at a time--like those Overeaters Anonymous members do.