Jackie
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| Picture from my recent Orlando Biggest Loser Casting Call Tryouts. I was 165 in line. |
I weigh 283lbs and am 5'3
My goal is to be 140lbs.
I'm a 29yr old fashion obsessed artist wannabe. I love reading and am a cheerful people person but unfortunately my sedentary lifestyle and lack of job has lead me to go from just obese (that I have been for most of my life) to obese and with health issues. My health issue is mostly just spotting but theirs history of diabetes in my family and also the spotting can cause cervical cancer (according to the doctor I saw about 2yrs ago). Aware that my obesity is not only threatening my health but also my lifestyle and future I decided to start my journey to health. I am still floundering a bit. Mostly from uncertainty in what I'm doing. Having no money of my own and well... a awesome supportive boyfriend I am reluctant to spend HIS hard earned money on my issue. So unfortunately some things (like a bike to ride or doctors visits) will be on the back burner. But eating healthy and starting to pay attention to numbers on food labels along with learning portion control are most defiantly on my no money needed to do list. I have approached this issue in my fashion blog a few times but now I am making it a priority... hence the new blog that I now share with my friend Candice that you are now reading. For more info about Candice (who is the inspiration behind my reasons for having started The Curvy Kitten blog) please check out her Bio.
My Life history
I grew up a spoiled army brat convinced that my life was charmed. I was a shy child who loved people but honestly did not know how to react to adults and even some children my own age. While I loved a mix of frilly girlishness and boy like things, one moment playing barbies and the next playing kickball or being taught how to climb a tree by the son of one of my moms friends. I spent most of my youth idolizing my father. An army man who I believed rescued the world just by being in the military. A child's view but honestly a patriotic belief in honer an country that was strong in me. Unfortunately I had little realization of the fail-ability of such a hero. I honestly, didn't know the real man that was my father, mostly because he was "working" all the time or when he was home he wanted quiet so my "family" time with him was often watching TV on the couch and trying to be a "good girl" while my opinions where expected to be kept to myself (trying to defend myself in any way is "back talk" and trying to question things or trying to be part of adult discussion was "interrupting adults" and as such "also back talk"). My mother was/is a wonderful woman. A woman who left behind her country to be with her man. That takes a strong woman, I respect her now for her strength of love although some choices she made I will never understand. She was the one who raised me to be honest, I wish I had realized just how heroic SHE was back then. It might not have changed things but it might have helped me feel more secure later on when things went bad. As I was growing up she ran a child care out of our apartment on base. The food she served met all the guidelines for child care but to be honest, I was a greedy little thing. I started my growth spurts early on. Shooting from normal height to taller than all my classmates (cept maybe one boy every now and then) I was constantly hungry. I guzzled whole milk like it was water and things like pasta and cheese where my favorites. Around this time my grandma H convinced me, who as a child didn't really care for eating chocolate that chocolate was the BEST THING EVER!... I was hooked! I soon became chubby. Something that actually didn't reflect on me much when I was in my taller state but did show in between growth spurts when I would start to add width to my size. Soon my mother was confronted with 2 realizations... her daughter was able to wear grown woman sizes and that her preteen daughter had breast bigger than what she was capable of dealing with. Not knowing what to do she kept me in sports bras totally skipping training bras since I was already to big for them. She also took me to a doctor to talk about how chubby I was getting realizing that it might not be healthy, the doctor then said basically that I was still growing and let me eat what I want since my food choices might have been hardy (pasta, milk, and the like) but not junk necessarily. I suppose it would not have been bad had I had more portion control at that point or if I was more active but unfortunately shortly after we moved to Texas. This wasn't a bad move, I actually loved Texas but the move meant that a few things I had started in Kentucky got left behind (like girl scouts and roller skating witch I sucked at and only tried cause my gal pals where good at it, I think the roller skates end up sold at a moving or yard sale). I think it was in Texas that I might have started dance classes or it might have been a left over thing from Kentucky that got cut short by our move. I don't remember. But I do know that I had a love of Shirley Temple movies and was in tap dance for about a year. I also swam a lot in the pool with my friends that lived in the same apartment complex as me. Often times the pool was where my family (my mom, little brother who was about 1 or 2 at the time, and my dad) got together and cooled off from the Texas heat. Unfortunately this was the most physical activity I had outside of gym so my waistline kept growing along with my appetite. By this time I was what would be considered "thick". Not quite obese for my age but defiantly not skinny. I to be honest was starting to look like a teenager instead of the preteen I was. People often times would mistake me for being my fathers wife instead of daughter because of my body and height added with my maturity level witch was actually mostly having been trained to be the perfect daughter in public and my own intelligence and shyness creating a almost "snobbish" for other kids sometimes or adult demeanor. After having lived in and made friends in Texas for about a year my dad decided to take the out offered by the military. He was going to be a civilian. This was an exciting time for me. I with my childish dreams thought that this would be the beginning of a happy civilian family life. More time with my idolized father and a chance to "KNOW" that the place we moved to would be our final home. So despite the sadness of being parted with my new friends (a boy who lived a few apartments down and a girl who lived downstairs who was bold, beautiful, and mixed race) I looked to the future with hope. Unfortunately that hope was crushed when we arrived at Ste. Genevieve. Not to say that its a bad place. Oh no, many of the people their I meet would soon become my friends. Family of my heart that I hold very dear for the very fact that they where loyal, strong, and kind. No, what the issue was with moving was the financial burden at first. Unable to afford a "house" of our own we bought a trailer. Not realizing how flimsy a trailer is or how fast a nice one can degrade I was ok with it at first. This trailer we moved onto the property/farm my grandma H and grandpa H (my dads step father) owned. This was a bit odd for me. Use to the sounds of city noise at night I now had to adjust to very loud crickets and bug noises coming from the fields behind our trailer. Now instead of having children nearby I can play with I was stuck in a house with my toddler brother as a companion... a brother who was 9yrs younger than me. My friends became my books and my love for drawing. Having been interested in both for a while they became my everyday hobbies. I now had a sedentary lifestyle. While this was all happening my father was struggling with finding a job. My mother started looking for work in factorys also. I had gone from certainty of having someone for me 24/7 to not. At first this was ok, after all I was getting older and wanted "me" time more and more. Little did I realize this would be the opening for a less than ideal situation. First time I went to school I realized something was off to me. I didn't really think it though at the time but about a year later I realized what it was. About 90% of my classmates where of the same race. I was surrounded by white Americans of German/French bloodlines. I really didn't care about this but soon their was the realization that this was the reasons I kept getting odd looks by some people. I was fat, my mother Panamanian with dark skin, my dad was white like them, I was light-dark tan, and I had developed early. I might as well have put up a "kick me" sign on my back. Oh, this wasn't a big deal for a majority of the more... enlightened/modern people of Ste. Genevieve but it was something that was noted by some of the... less enlightened people. All the sudden race (witch was a side note type thing to who a person was for me... kinda like identifying someone by blue eyes, since I came from a army background where I was surrounded constantly by multiple races thinking in terms of racial differences was unknown to me although I did hold a fascination with culture differences), became the taunt of all those who wanted to belittle me. All the sudden a word I was told was bad was used as a weapon against me. Oh, some just said it out of curiosity... having no idea that that word is considered improper because they "overhear" it from adults, but others... others decided to call me N word constantly as a taunt. Now I being of mix decent could have African blood in me, but to be honest I don't know for sure. My family ranges from light skin to very very dark and I love the fact that I can claim that I am of mixed decent. But being called the N word is a nasty experience. I hold a lot of respect for those who have stood up to racism back in the day cause what I went though was bad enough... I cant imagine how I would have reacted a lifetime of that kind of struggle. So I spent better part of two years trying to explain where panama is and trying to explain that I am Hispanic but not Mexican and yes I even had been close to being disliked because of that to. While this was all happening (around Jr high time by then) My father was struggling job wise and the presser was causing him to crack. I won't say on here what he did to me (no, not rape or anything like that) but I will say it was abuse although it was more along the lines of mental/emotional and was yes, sexual in nature enough to make me have nightmares and come to hate myself and my developing body. I use to dream/fantasize about cutting myself and taking a butcher knife to him, to my breast, to my heart. I honestly struggled with the idea of telling this on here because I know some of my readers might be friends from Ste. Genevieve who might ones who I only had in school interactions with and therefore don't know this fact. I also struggled with it because I know the rummer mill in Ste. Genevieve and while I keep my distance from my father I have no ill will for him or for my family either and don't want to harm my brother or mother with this public admittance of my shame... yes my shame, another reason why I'm saying this because I am still treated as the bad guy for being the victim and wanting to live in peace without the stress of being around him and having to pretend we are a perfect family and lie and say things like "I love you" and hug the man who hurt me most in life. What I do know though is what he did back then was enough to break my trust the first time and that he has broken my trust enough times that I basically don't trust him with my life/future anymore. So while all this was happening father wise I was also struggling with school. My depression was reflected in my grades. My dreams of a loving father where destroyed, my identity as a girl was ripped out from under me, and who I was on a basic level (physically & racially) was a cause of unending torment. I was being teased at school for my race and size. I was being spit at for wanting to meditate the anger/despair away, I had rocks thrown at me, was shoved, and verbally assaulted. I felt like I was in an endless torrent of hatred and self loathing. During this time I also received a gift of sorts. Throughout my childhood I had a thing for barbies and my love of drawing was becoming more pronounced. I had received a fashion stencil barbie set to draw with and had been using that to start my own fashion drawing. As the years past I burrowed myself in my books and my fashion drawings. Dreaming of one day making a life for myself. Hoping that my life would not stay in constant torment. My friends who I made at the time I made for reasons, they where not popular or fashionable. I picked them for my friends because in them I saw a strength of will that I wanted, a gentile kindness that I needed, a loyalty I would guard and honer, a sisterly love that went beyond the hell that was my beginning teen years. They became every thing I had looked for in myself. All wrapped up in the package of a bunch of teenage girls on the fringe of all the high school clicks. I admired them and became a better person because of them. For them I would be the happy outgoing bold strong silly happy friendly person I am today. With them I shed the last of that shy child that had been so betrade by her father and society as a whole. I became a good but annoying and oftentimes loud teenager. My school grades where still suffering but I learned not from school but though social interaction and my own reading/studying. I was becoming the woman I was meant to be. I was fierce and fought back my tormenters. Getting in my fathers face many a time to call bull on him when I had witnesses to keep me safe. I started fighting back physically those boys who called me the N word and would throw rocks at me and spit at me. I event stood up for my friends, telling off girls who teased them and getting wide eyed looks from people who thought I was "nice quiet" Jackie. I Fought... I fought for everything. I even fought later to bring my grades up to graduate even though many people thought I couldn't and that I wouldn't even graduate. For a long time the only people who believed in me was my teenage friends. Them and a very special teacher that I had in jr high and high school. Those are the people who made me who I am today. They helped forge what the fire was bending and melting. They created who I am today. I held many secrets from people, not just my abuse but also my struggles with my self esteem. I knew many people didn't believe in me or my talents. A while after high school I found the college that I loved and knew would be perfect for me. I applied even knowing I probably wouldn't have the money and even with the sound of old memory repeating how I couldn't even graduate high school let alone go to college. I got an acceptance letter.... yup, I was accepted to Parsons Art School in NY... but instead of showing everyone, instead of trying to raise money to go, I hid it. I hid it in one of my many drawers filled with paper in my room. Why you might wonder? Despite all the fighting I had done in the past those words, those words of all the people... no ADULTS in my life who had said you can't had gotten to me. I knew I didn't have the money and I knew no one believed in me enough to give me the financial boost I needed. I put the dream on hold. I hid my proof of my talent and I kept living the day to day drone of small town life. My weight had been stable during all this time. Only going from size 16 to 18 during all of jr high, high school, and even my working after graduation. But my lifestyle was full of escapes... I escaped with my friends for weekends. Driving to town or the city to eat out, see a movie, or just run around town. Junk food and candy was a constant. By the time I got a job at TG I was resigned to the fact that I was fat. I began learning to accept and love myself with no help from any professional (I was not allowed, the abuse I underwent was suppose to be "our secret"). I read books about self esteem, sex, sexuality, and the meaning of love in the hopes of understanding and gaining control over my depression and self hatred of myself as a woman. TG was the place where the woman who is the modern me came out. Where my life with my friends was what molded me and the taunts of the past was the fire that tried to destroy me it was at TG that the polish of who I was came to be. It was hard work and I meet many a good person their. It was their that I learned that I did have determination. Often times working despite being sick or despite how mind numbing and physical the job. It was also their that I meet Candice. We talked about our weight and about clothing. It was from her that I got the idea to make a list of fashion sites for plus sizes and it was for her sake and for women like us that the beginnings of what would later on be my blog came about. It was also while working their that I had accumulated debt assuming that I would keep my job for as long as I could I bought my own clothing, used my money to go out with friends, did payments on a car, and tried to go to college (Sanford Brown). Unfortunately the pace I had kept myself on was destroying my immune system. I was working 10 hours a day (would have been forces to work 12 but I knew enough of their rules to call bull when they tried to make me work 12 while going to school full time and even walked out on overtime to go to school before) and going to school about an hour and 20 min away from my work for 4 hours a day. I was exhausted and only had slept a couple hours a day while catching cat naps in my car between classes or during lunch. I soon got sick and despite my better judgement went to work. Barely standing I struggled to make my numbers. I was fired that night. Hardly believing what was happening after months of struggle and risking my life driving with barely any sleep because of a job that over worked me and a school I was trying to take for the sake of my future even though the degree was the more acceptable common sense type instead of my dream one I stubble around crying on my way out. At 8am I walked out to the parking lot full of snow, was greeted by a car door frozen closed and was to numb/sick to care anymore about anything but school and friends. That was the beginning of my financial struggle. One that continues today after having a string of part time min wage jobs. Shortly after this I got a boyfriend, moved in with him for a while, fell in love with his family (if your reading this hi!) and then broke up with him cause he didn't love me and well one sided like doesn't equal love. I lost my car (repo) and was moving back "home". I was devastated. I had all this freedom and had a taste of what it would be to be part of a family that didn't judge me (not to say my mom or brother did but getting away from my dads constant negativity was nice) and now I had to go back and live with the one person I didn't trust (my dad again). I was extremely upset. My friends took me in and eventually I found myself living with my friend Rhonda thanks to her mom for letting me. I was all this time also talking with my friends online. People I had been talking with for about a year on a sims 2 site. One of them was John. Having been with my ex when I first started talking with John I really didn't pay much attention to how attractive he was. I'm a very loyal person. But now that I was free... oooohhhhh boy is that man hot! We started flirting, talked more about ourselfs beyond just friendship, and he offered to let me come down to try to find a job since he had a spare room. Now coming down to FL seemed a bit much at first but when I realized that I had enough money to go down (and come back if he ended up being a weirdo) and that the situation with my transfer at work might not work out (I was transferred after my resignation went though and then the position I didn't care for anyways). I decided why not? Sooooo... here I am in FL. With a great guy who supports me, missing my friends who also have always supported me and accepted me as a person, and trying to make new friends in FL while carving out a life for "MYSELF" beyond just my identity as a older sister or friend of so and so. I even for a while had a job with my top favorite company ever (Fredericks Of Hollywood) but am now jobless.
Now today I am a stronger woman for all my struggles but the one fight I haven't confronted has always been my weight.
I am facing it and fighting it now.
I have many other fights in front of me (like recovering from my debt, finishing college, and trying to make a career for myself) but the relization that in order to acheve I need to be healthy and happy has set hold.
I may be happy enough with my looks but my health issue (spotting) is slowly distroying my self esteem again all while making even little things in life more difficult. Realizing that weight has become a way to distroy all that I fought so hard to get pass I now vow to focus on my health and happyness more by working hard to improve my health/weight.
So wish me luck in my struggles to improve my weight (and to find a job! I need a job badly!), I need all the luck I can get!
Now today I am a stronger woman for all my struggles but the one fight I haven't confronted has always been my weight.
I am facing it and fighting it now.
I have many other fights in front of me (like recovering from my debt, finishing college, and trying to make a career for myself) but the relization that in order to acheve I need to be healthy and happy has set hold.
I may be happy enough with my looks but my health issue (spotting) is slowly distroying my self esteem again all while making even little things in life more difficult. Realizing that weight has become a way to distroy all that I fought so hard to get pass I now vow to focus on my health and happyness more by working hard to improve my health/weight.
So wish me luck in my struggles to improve my weight (and to find a job! I need a job badly!), I need all the luck I can get!
Links to previous post on weight from The Curvy Kitten Blog...
Jackie's Personal Link List
Jackies needed to know distances for walks
Rules for Reward System for Jackie's Diet
If I do 4 workouts a week I get the choice to have my rum that weekend (as a splurge) or I get to have the weekend off from cleaning... if I don't do/miss my workouts then I HAVE TO clean house during the weekend (including much over do organizing of places like the garage).
If I complete all my workouts for the month then I get to indulge in a spa night in (do my nails and stuff like that).
If I stick to my diet post and calorie count for the week I get to go out (window shopping or borrow the car for the day) on the weekend and don't have to post my weekend meals (although I will keep my eating habits reasonable during the weekend)... if I miss any weekday diet post then I HAVE to follow my diet posting to a T on the weekend.
If I loose 10lbs I get to make myself a low calorie but yummy dessert for my last "snack" of the day (so something within my calorie budget but that takes more effort to make than my usual snacks).
If I loose a dress size I get to sell my old clothing and buy a new set with the funds from my "yard sale" along with make/have a dessert (of reasonable portions) or drink (yay for rum).
Proof of all activitys is journaling so if I do not post what my activitys are then I miss out on any rewards.
