Ok, so I am thinking that part five will get us up to the point of today-ish, because my late teens and twenties were interesting in the sense that I tried to lose weight on multiple occasions.
The first time was when I was 21, and it wasn’t me trying so much as me actually exercising. At one point, I think I was flirting with being under 200 again. Then, I stopped.
I attempted the exercise thing again two years later. It lasted maybe a month before I stopped. That time I didn’t really lose weight.
At 26, I went through a phase where I was so depressed, I starved myself for a couple months. I lost 20 pounds that way before I realized that was ridiculous and stopped.
After I turned 27, I was shamelessly flirting with someone I have talked a lot about in this blog. Suddenly, I wanted to feel good and look good because I wanted to give him the best me I could give. That was the point he was good with the compliments, when he would tell me I was sexy instead of only seeming to pay attention to the negative things.
Fuck, do I miss that. I remember how much that motivated me to be better, to be proud of myself, and to take better care of myself.
So, I ended up flirting with 200 again by the summer of 2013. Then, I stopped… When he decided to basically dump me the first time. After that, I dated a guy who didn’t want me to change my weight at all (which didn’t last long). I actually put all the weight back slowly over a year.
I would try to exercise on and off since, but I couldn’t get myself to keep going. I kept telling myself that I needed to focus on other things, or that I wasn’t good enough. Of course, those are the things you already know, because I have said them already.
So, here I am, at 31, trying to take better care of myself. I am bruised from the friend that once inspired me to be the best version of myself that I could be. My weight is still yo-yoing a bit, but I am hoping that is just par for the course.
Maybe I keep trying because I do not want to give up on myself. Because fuck all those times I failed. Fuck all the people who gave up on me when I was struggling to see how valuable I am. When I ate because I was bored, lonely, sad… and whatever other justifications I gave myself.
I believe in that whole idea that if someone wouldn’t love you at your worst, then they do not deserve you at your best. I spent so much of my life desperate for being a person that people liked. Maybe it was friends, potential lovers… Whatever.
Now, I want to be the kind of person I can like, because I realize people respond to that. More importantly, I should be that person for myself. I have been through crap, and it would be reasonable for me to become a raging asshole. That’s not who I want to be.
Sad, lonely Kelsey will always deserve better from me. I want to give her what she deserves.
That’s my story, and I am still writing it.