Growing Up in a Fat House

My father was of average weight. My mother was very heavy. I didn't really notice how heavy, though, until I was a teenager.

As a child I remember snippets of weight related incidents. I remember one morning my mother being very happy. She was singing while making breakfast. I asked my father why mom was in such a good mood. His reply was a criptic "she's just happy because of what she saw on the scale this morning". It was probably the first time I understood that my mother was not happy with how much she weighed.

Another remembrance: My mother started driving us to school every morning. After riding a school bus for the first 5 years of my academic career I was not sorry in the least for our sudden good fortune. The reason for the rides was not really discussed, but I figured out that my mother was going to a weight loss clinic every morning for a shot and weigh in. I have no idea what was in the shot and I didn't ask. Excess weight was not talked about in our house.

Once I hit my teens I was all too consciously aware of how heavy my mother really was. I agonized over it. I felt personally picked on. I would look around at other "normal weight" mothers and think to myself that their kids had no idea what I was dealing with. When I would find another woman whose weight was close to my own mother's weight I would feel a kinship with her children and silently think "I know what you're going through, buddy." One particularly horrifying day I remember being in a store with my mother and seeing some other kids from my school come in. I was so afraid that they would figure out that my mother was the fat lady that I hid from her. That day is horrifying in my memory because I now know how horrible I was. I'm ashamed of myself.

In short I was a self-centered, self-conscious, prick of a teenager. I thought it was all about me. Now that I find myself in a similar situation in struggling with my weight I feel ashamed and sick at heart for the heartless thoughts and feelings I had while growing up. I know now how despairing feelings come with carrying all that extra weight and not being able to do a thing about it.

The Club No One Wants to Join

Life is full of them. Bunches and groups.

Children - usually under the age of 12. There are subcategories of course, ie. infants, toddlers, preschoolers, and so on.

Teenagers - anyone who's age ends in the subfix "teen". 'Nuff said.

Adults - the rest. Of course there are subcategories here as well. Young Adults, Middle Agers, Empty Nesters, and Senior Citizens, among others.

In school there are other ways of division among classmates; popular and not, smart and not, the haves and the have-nots.

It's just a fact of life that populations are divided into "clubs", or bunches and groups.

There is a club that no one chooses to join. Everyone is aware of this subset of people and most of us live in terror that one day we will join their ranks.

It's a silent club. You recognize other members by sight alone. One quick look and you know. Only the crass and truly obnoxious among us will point out anyone's club membership.

I am speaking of course of the overweight.

This is my story. How I evolved into one of them, what difficulties I've had to face, what exhilarating triumphs and crushing blows I've experienced, and the science behind weight management. I hope you will join me as I talk the talk and walk the walk of a reluctant heavyweight.