Crooked Eyebrow


You know, stepping on the scale stinks, even more so when you know deep in your gut that you gained.

Results? I gained 2 pounds this week. Back to 197#.

Weighing in today  made me think. I have been struggling with my weight for years, about 20 now. My weight struggles started at such a young age. Way too soon for any young girl to ever have to worry about what they weigh.

I was a chubby 4th grader, got made fun of, had very few friends. I was awkward. Looking back now I am embarrassed for myself. Sadly, the weight gain, ridicule, depression and lack of self esteem didn’t improve. Around the sixth grade I started to starve myself. Consciously I knew my mother would take notice so I would only eat dinner in her presence.  That year, I dropped the weight. I was winning against the scale but I never felt any better. My self esteem never blossomed after the weight peeled off.

So as my school years went on I always weighed myself taking note if it went up. I thought I was fat my junior year of high school. I hid under flannels and baggy pants as I blared Nirvana and Pearl Jam through my speakers. Still awkward. I tried to hide. Hide from the body that I had, people, my feelings and lack of self worth. Still the scale was there, the numbers were going down but I didn’t feel any better.

Wasn’t I supposed to feel better weighing in less? Nope, never happened. Wasn’t happiness and all things wonderful supposed to happen weighing less? nope, never happened.

It was never an obsession, I never binged & purged. I just knew that I always had to “watch it”. My own little Italian grandmother would always pat my hips as a child and tell me to take it easy, as big hips run in the family. (I loved that woman but that stuck with me for years.) 

Looking back now, I hate that I hadto be so conscious of my weight. It was me vs the scale all the time. But as I would weigh in, I would continue  to always feel not good enough. No matter how hard I tried, I still always saw myself as ugly , fat and worthless.  So I hid more and looked for more distractions. Music, work, anything to fly under the radar while in high school.

I was 5 ft 7in and weighed 130 pounds and I thought I was fat.


Let’s not even talk about nursing school. Life in nursing school was one big panic attack  for me while watching my weight go up. I felt like a failure for not being able to make my body look the way I wanted it to. My grandmother was right, big hips do run in the family and I was getting my part way too early. These big hips don’t lie…

My first baby? My weight hit the highest ever, little did I know that with my second child this past fall that I would truly hit my highest(thankfully it’s all off now). Only difference nowadays  is that the scale doesn’t control me as an adult. My self worth doesn’t come from a number. If only I could go back in time and tap myself on the shoulder and whisper…

“little young CE, you are beautiful, you are perfect the way you are and never, ever think that you aren’t worth it. Be proud of yourself at every weight and for the love of all things good in this world, stop hiding. Go out and show the world just how beautiful you are.”

only if I had a time machine…I might have thrown away my scale too.