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Why?

I guess I want to preface this blog by saying that I do not feel sorry for myself for my experiences, nor do I harbor any regret or anger towards my mother.  It will become clear why I could have these feelings, but I do not.  I love my mother very much and always will.  That’s not to say that I didn’t have moments of anger with her.

I share this as a therapy of sort (though I’ve had plenty) and given the opportunity that Jason and I had—I feel like the audience missed something.  If you have ever attended a casting call for a weight loss show, they inevitably ask you why you THINK you are overweight.  It did not have to do with my husband.  It had to do with my mother.  My personal story.

Jason’s personal food issues and mine—those are separate in certain ways.  Yes, we found a way to be comfortable with each other and bad food habits—and it grew.  But my struggle started long before I met him.

Forgive me for this sounding possibly too “cheesy”, but I share also because I “feel” that I have to. Yesterday (April 28th) was the ninth anniversary of my mother’s passing.  Today (April 29th) would have been her 58th birthday.  Around this time anyways I am inclined to speak and talk about her, but never about her personal issues.  It isn’t just something that I bring up in everyday conversation.  I just say I miss my mom simply because I do.  But something else has been nagging me to write and share.  It just won’t go away.  Maybe someone is reading and my story will resonate with them.  Maybe someone is reading this and is ready to change their life.  Maybe some people are just simply reading this.  And that is okay too.

But I struggled where to start writing.  Do I tell you all the wonderful stuff about my mom (there is so much) first? Or do I dive right in to the not so great stuff?  Do I share a horrible memory from my childhood or a tender one?

I wasn’t sure exactly where to start, because it all plays a part.  Everything I experienced in my childhood played a part in shaping who I have become today.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  All of it.

Lastly, I share for hope.  I may be the ever optimist, but I always believe that someone can change their life if they truly want to.  The want takes courage, desire, and determination, but I firmly believe that we all have it in ourselves.  I know this from first hand experience.

It isn’t simple.  It isn’t fun and it is definitely not easy.  When we are at our darkest hour the road seems beyond rough ahead.

But it can be done.

Tomorrow, I will share more.

As a side note, if you know me personally I may come across as an open book.  I know I am pretty open and social to everyone.  But choosing to share this this publicly, is actually very hard for me.  I do so for the purposes I stated above, but is still hard for me to do.  I appreciate that anyone takes the time to read this.

Comments

  1. I’m amazed by your tenacity. I hated that your mom ended up as a “non-story” because I know how much she is your story. I love you and am ridiculously proud of YOU. Remember: courage isn’t absence of fear; it’s being scared shitless and doing it anyway.

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