this little piggy had roast beef . . .

it's a hard realization to accept being fat. and i'm not one of those skinny jerks who looks in the mirror and sees fat when there is none. i am genuinely big. like over 200 pounds big and prolly about twenty more than that. no one can tell me i'm not fat and make me believe it.

the size 16 clothes i tried on -- or should i say attempted to try on -- that were way too tight told me i'm fat. all of my size 14 pants i tucked away neatly for later use a few months ago told me i'm fat. my mirror told me i'm fat. and i'm finally listening.

last year -- a mere 14 months ago -- i was 40 pounds lighter. yes, FORTY pounds. how does a person gain that much weight in just over one year? how has my body not imploded (or rather, exploded) from the sheer force of an extra forty pounds? how have i been okay with this all this time? why do i seemingly not care?

i believe that over the last year, i have rationalized my weight gain. last year started off fantastically. i was forty pounds lighter, for one, and was the smallest, and more importantly, the healthiest i have been since i played soccer in high school. i felt great. full of energy and life! i worked out monday-friday and ate healthy. and even when i ate unhealthily, i was able to balance that with exercise. and when i had one bad day, i made sure i had at least five good days.

now my one bad day has turned into 14 months of bad days, with maybe five good days in there total.

last year, i met a man. i'm not blaming him, however, as i realize he can't force me to eat what i have eaten. i do know i am happy with him. and with that happiness has come complacency and relaxation. i finally feel like i have met someone who is just about perfect for me and i have reveled in that. i stopped caring about what i looked like cuz, after all, i found someone who loved me for me and told me i was beautiful at a size 10, size 12, size 14, and tonight, even more than a size 16. but honestly, who wants a fat mate?

i have always been very aware of my weight. i have known that carbs cause me to gain, and so for years i avoided sweets and tried to limit them to a healthy number daily. to me, it was never a big deal and i never craved sweets. i never bought them and never ate dessert at sunday dinner. however, within the last year or so, i started giving in to someone's birthday cake or someone else making homemade brownies or bringing over creamy creations ice cream. and i have indulged, believe you me. it's even become the joke at my parents' house on sunday nights for me to say, "well, tomorrow i start my diet." i say it every sunday. and i've realized that in the last year, when i meant it before, now i just say it for laughs. i know that deep down i haven't had intentions of a diet for a long time now.

my sister-in-law, whom i won't name for purposes of privacy, once mentioned something about "having a food baby." you know . . . when you eat so much at a meal that your tummy pooches out and no matter what, you can't suck it in and you look pregnant. sadly, this has become a joke in my relationship for awhile now. every night, i lay on the bed and rub my belly and talk to my food baby to make my beau laugh. and we laugh together. really, it's upsets me, but i know if i laugh about it, i can make myself feel better about it.

i have really noticed how fat i am here recently because i have noticed how well my daddy is doing on his diet. he had gastric bypass surgery last month after struggling for years with his weight. it seems like every time i see him, he is skinnier and skinnier and can fit into clothes he, literally, hasn't worn in years. and that's when i realize i'm no longer fitting into clothes i have worn for years. i'm growing out of everything. and quite honestly, neither my ego nor my wallet can afford that.

i must point out that i didn't write this blog for people to feel sorry for me, to tell me i look great, to lie to me. i wrote this because i need to face the fact that i am fat. that i am unhealthy. i am lethargic and, i admit it, lazy. i can't remember the last time i exercised or the last time i ate something not smothered in some sort of sauce or gravy or butter. i wrote this because i want everyone to hold me accountable for my actions as i need to hold myself accountable. and i won't be cheesy and say something like, "and so, on this blog, i vow to lose weight!" but i will say i am going to do my damndest to be healthier. i will do my damndest to exercise. i will do my damndest to make better decisions for myself.

my goal is to lose forty pounds in the next year. i figure that's a realistic goal. i mean, if i gained forty in a year, i should be able to lose that much in a year. after all, my sister lost 100 pounds in a year from exercise and eating healthy.

secretly, my real goal is to be able to wear a bikini next july and not have the fabric be lost in the rolls of my fat. because believe me, it's not a pretty sight.