Madame, you fat.

***I started this blog post on July 31st right after I had returned from Fiji but could not find the right words to finish and publish.  Those words were coming to me this morning and I want to finish this section on this chapter of my life book.

One of the most unexpected and funniest parts of my Fiji trip was EVERYONE'S comments about my weight.  I will preface by saying that the village we lived in is on the water, the children and adults work very hard fishing and farming.  There is no electricity so although they sit around and talk story some of the time they are very active and when they weren't working they were playing volleyball or doing something.  They also eat fish for breakfast (although you also get babakau- a sort of fried bread delight for breakfast a lot of mornings), lunch, dinner, and a snack.  Fish and a starchy vegetable at every.single.meal. Combine these 2 things and you get very healthy people. Tutu, our grandpa who is in his early 50's, still had a 12 pack.  Even the little boys are ripped.  There are very few people in the village carrying any extra weight.

I will also say I have been overweight much of my life.  I have struggled with this part of myself  and have went through many years of not liking me to a place where I had really come to love me, irregardless of the imperfections that I still am working on.  I was truly good with who I was and where I was headed in my personal health before I left.

Then, I got to Fiji. And someone told me I was fat at least once a day.   And they don't sugarcoat it like we do here in the states.  There are no words like overweight, chubby, thick, big, etc.  They would simply state "Madame, you fat".  At first I was shocked, embarrassed, hurt. How dare they say that to me.  That's so rude.  But I was too shocked to respond so I would just laugh and look away.  Not only would they tell me I was fat regularly but anytime I would put on my shorts for sports or expose my calves they would---- massage them? Meaning grab! pinch! squeeze! rub! They were amazed at their size.  Most days I would laugh, some days I would threaten them to stop. touching. me.

Luckily, I was very comfortable with the other two interns and we were able to laugh and talk about it.  The intern who is 25 in response to being told she was fat said, "And you're black, but what are we going to do about it?".  I really liked this approach so when they would tell me I was fat I would respond "You have big eyes.  Your hair is a fro. etc. Are we just making observations about each other?" It was also funny because men were consistently flirting with me, date invitations were common, and proposals were not uncommon.  In my mind these two thing did not seem equal- being told I was fat all the time and a lot of men wanting to be with me but that's a post for another day.

I had days of dealing with it very well and days of tears and hurt feelings.  My high self-esteem and self-confidence slipped. It was painful to feel myself losing something so precious that I had earned and fought for.

Then, return to the states and everyone is telling me "wow, you look skinny. woah, you look so good.".  Say what? I just spent 5 weeks hearing I was fat and now I'm being bombarded with compliments on my shrinking figure (fish and taro for days + sweating always + lots of walking = skinnier me).   I was dumbfounded and grateful for their comments but "Madame, you fat" was still the melody in the back of my mind.

*** This is where I had stopped writing and am picking back up***

I am still having hard time forming words because I don't want to be too vague that it loses meaning but too specific that the moral I learned is lost in the details.

Those words, "Madame, you fat", continued to haunt me.  So much so, I began thinking about very unhealthy ways to not be fat.  I had thought of these ways before but had never really gone through with them. However, at this point in my journey I was at the point where I was ready to act and I did.  And it scared me.  I could see a very dark road before me and I had decided to step onto it.  I wanted back off immediately.  So I talked to my sister, Relief Society President who also does the local LDS addiction classes, and my Bishop.

In the beginning of October, my sister sent me the Latter-day Saint Addiction recovery book and I began reading and studying it from the view point of an addiction to food. I realized that this is a true addiction for me and to try and overcome an addiction without God is futile.  So I took this trial I have struggled with for so long to Him and asked for help.  Why I had thought for so long that I must overcome this one by myself I don't know.  So I looked for help in the recovery book, Book of Mormon, and through daily pray and pondering with God.  I also made a realistic plan for healthy eating and exercising.

Fast-forward 2 months to today and I was just thinking this morning- I love me!  Really, I do. I'm not perfect but I love who I have/am becoming.  I have found such a healthy balance for me.  Balance between eating healthy and indulging, exercising and letting my body rest, eating for fuel and eating for feelings.  Does this mean I will never have days again of over eating my feelings and regret? No, but I am so much more emotionally, mentally, and physically equipped to handle it.

I love that I can see the changes in my body. And although I enjoy when the number on the scale drops the real rewards are in the feeling post-workout when I feel strong and accomplished, the decreasing ideas to feed my feelings, the new muscles, the confidence in taking pictures or getting ready.  Because I can see where I've been, where I am, and where I am headed and

I LOVE ME!

Can you tell my confidence is coming back? :)

sweet or tart-
round like a peach and I'm ok with that