A few years ago, I was the thinnest I had been since grammar school after losing 100 lbs. The compliments, ladies and gentlemen, were rolling in. Strangers who lived in my building stopped me in the elevator to tell me how great I looked, and I gleefully collected pictures of myself just to study the new-found bones in my clavicle.
Life was grand. I had finally conquered the whole binge eating and morbid obesity thing and considered Lane Bryant and The Avenue as old friends I'd never see again. Portion control and exercise had become a part of my life, as much a part of my routine as googling for news about George Michael or brushing my teeth. Life in the fat lane was in my rear view mirror and I was determined to never look back.
One day I was visiting my parents' house and my dad, who has never really been known for his sensitivity, pulled me aside to give me some advice. "Listen, Taryn," he said sagely. "I know you think you've got this weight thing conquered, but trust me, inside of you there's an inner fat girl fighting to get out."
Of course I was hurt. I was a size 12! I could shop at the Gap for crying out loud! My days of eating my way through the value menu at McDonalds were over with. I laughed at him and moved on with my life, but in the back of my mind his words stuck with me. An inner fat girl, fighting to get out.
Well, a year and a half later I've gained back quite a few of the pounds I lost and I know he was right. I'm going to be fighting my inner fat girl for the rest of my life. I'm determined to get back on track and finally reach my goal, not to be thin but to be strong and healthy. My plans are to write about this journey here and hopefully find some cheerleaders to help me along the way.