I thought I was a happy fatty

I thought I was a happy fatty. I thought I was just born to be a plus-sized person. I thought in colloquialisms about my weight – “there’s more of me to love,” “I’m just big boned,” or “my body wasn’t meant to work out.” I thought I could continue eating fast food every day, never exercise, and avoid the topic of health and wellness altogether. I thought I would worry another day about what people told me was a serious problem. I thought just one more plateful wouldn’t make a difference – a word to the wise: one more plateful might not hurt, but one more plateful at every meal will. I thought I was a happy fatty. I was so incredibly wrong.

Looking back, I realize I was killing myself every day. Sound radical? Okay, fine. But I can’t deny that it’s true.

Food was my best friend; it was my comfort, my support, and my confidante. But it was an unrequited love. People who struggle with food (and isn’t that just about everybody?) will totally understand this. What a tragic relationship. Let me quickly clarify something here – when I say food, I don’t mean overindulging on something a few times a week; I’m talking, full-on Thanksgiving Day binge-eating fast food and deep-fried grossness every single day. I loved food so much – and still do – but my “old self,” as I’m prone to calling the morbidly obese Matthew that used to occupy my body, didn’t realize that my eating habits were a coping mechanism to combat my own insecurities.

My misguided expectation of food was that I would eat it, and it would, in turn, make me feel better. In reality, it betrayed me every time, and after I ate it, I felt empty, lonely, and angry. Chances are if you have ever struggled with an addiction to something, you’ll completely recognize this relationship. I don’t like when people downplay the power of food. Food is a drug, and I was abusing it.

The dysfunctional nature of my relationship with food was a classic model of rewards and punishment…without the whole punishment part. Do well on a test? Go to McDonald’s to reward yourself. Do poorly on a test? Go to McDonald’s to reward yourself for at least putting in an effort. It was a vicious, never-ending cycle.

I totally understand that treating oneself is both necessary and important. But when every opportunity becomes a reason to treat oneself, there’s a problem. For my old self, every occasion was an occasion to celebrate, and celebrate = eat. Someone’s birthday? Let’s go out. I’m sick? Let’s order in. Didn’t eat all day? Binge eat all night. It’s raining? Let’s get a pizza! You get the idea. When everything becomes a reason to treat yourself, the necessity and importance of treating yourself when you have a legitimate reason to do so gets lost in translation. Indulging became less of a luxury and more of an expectation.

If I could have just stopped long enough to realize that food I was eating wasn’t doing the good I thought it was, the first 20 years of my life could have looked a little different. But I refuse to allow those years to define my future. (I’ll be sharing the full story of my ongoing transformation in an upcoming post!)

My story is certainly not unique – people will always struggle with their weight and combat temptations in a society that glorifies and condones overindulgence. However, I couldn’t be happier or more proud that I adopted my new lifestyle. I am far from being where I want to be, but I know I am getting there. Happy and healthy have become synonymous.

This blog will be a place for me – and hopefully my readers – to talk about healthy living by sharing stories, ideas, recipes, articles, and insight. I’m not claiming to be an expert on anything I write about. Instead, I’m just one person who made a change in his life and wants to share it with others. This journey is impossible to go alone, and I hope this blog can become a safe-place for people to find comfort. After all, YOU ARE WORTH IT.

I thought I was a happy fatty. But I was so, so wrong. As I continue this journey in my life, I realize that I am most definitely happy, and, equally important, I am on my way to becoming healthier. I thought I was a happy fatty, but I wasn’t…and I’m never looking back.