"The Odyssey" was my favorite feature at fat camp. It was a massive obstacle course that ended with the "flying squirrel" – a zipline of sorts. You climbed a ladder, got hooked into a harness, and then hoisted into the air by the other campers pulling. When they let go, it felt like I was flying.
Imagine being a teenager with obesity pulled into the air by other teenagers with obesity. It was terrifying. But at fat camp, I felt strangely safe. We were all there for the same reason, and everyone looked pretty much the same.
Summer after summer, I made so many friends there, including the person who has been my best friend since we were both 13. The camp had a saying, "There are never strangers, just friends you haven't met yet." There, it felt true.
Growing Up Taunted
I was overweight my whole life. I was picked on my whole life, too. Kids would send me messages that said things like, "I'm so fat, I broke the rollercoaster at Six Flags." Freshman year in high school, after a volleyball game, I was in the bathroom when a girl's mom walked up, shoved me, and called me "a fat b*tch." Then there was the time a kid walking behind me in the hallway spit on me, actually spit on me, and called me fat. People were mean.
But every summer, I went to fat camp. I loved it. We engaged in physical activity five or six times a day: aerobics, Zumba, tennis, basketball, gaga ball, kickball, soccer, volleyball, swimming activities and, of course, the Odyssey. Our food came prepared and pre-portioned, and we didn't have access to options – except for the salad bar.
Every summer, I'd lose 30 to 40 pounds. And by the time I was dropped off at camp the next summer, I'd have gained it all back – and then some. I'd breathe and gain weight.
I remember that for junior prom, I couldn't find a date so I went with the son of my mom's friend. The whole time, I thought about how he seemed embarrassed to be with me.
Desperate for Solutions
Not long before my senior year, I decided I wanted gastric sleeve surgery, where 80% of the stomach and intestines are removed. I was approved for the surgery. But just days before my surgery date, my approval was revoked because my body hadn't developed enough yet. My whole life seemed to flip. I was counting on this event that would change everything, and now it wasn't happening. I was lost.
That's when I decided I'd spend my senior year at a weight loss boarding school on a ranch in South Carolina. It definitely helped me achieve my goals of losing weight – I lost 100 pounds there – and parts of it were great. But what I remember most is the time my roommate and I snuck out to a gas station in town and bought a bunch of chocolate. When they discovered what we'd done, we got in big trouble and they reported the "incident" to our parents. When my mom heard what I'd done, she just cracked up at how ridiculous their reaction was. They treated us like we'd committed a terrible crime. In reality, it was just some chocolate.
I went back to my high school at the end of the year to go to prom and graduate. It's insane how differently I was treated when I walked into that school skinny. People were talking to me, acknowledging me, giving me attention. Some people even apologized for the way they had treated me.
I realized then, just how small those people who'd mistreated me were. I knew I was so much bigger than they were, in every important way.
Within a few months of graduating, I'd gained the weight back. I could lose it, but I just could not keep it off, ever. I traveled after graduation, spent some time in Israel. I couldn't climb the Masada because I was exhausted and my thighs were rubbing and my ankles were shot. There were many things I wanted to do, but couldn't. It was so frustrating.
So, when I was 19, I tried again to get gastric sleeve surgery. This time, I was granted approval, and it did change my life, but not exactly in the ways I imagined it would.
My Pendulum Swings
People think weight loss surgery is the easy way out, but it's the opposite. You have to teach yourself so many new things. You have to change your mindset, your lifestyle, everything about yourself.
It can be very difficult – not just physically but mentally. I needed a lot of guidance and support through that process, and I got it from my mom, who is my best friend, and from my husband, who I met just two months after the surgery.
I lost weight very quickly, 60 pounds the first month. In two years, I lost 168 pounds. At a certain point, I became obsessed with losing weight, to the point that I struggled with an eating disorder, which I had to address with the support of my family.
So many people think that skinniness brings happiness. I've been on both sides of the weight spectrum and I can say, that's a misconception. At my skinniest, I was not happy. When I was at my heaviest, and couldn't do what I wanted to do, I wasn't happy either. Truly, I didn't become happy until I learned to love myself. And that process only began a few years ago, when I became pregnant with my son.
When I had my surgery, my body changed completely. When I had my son, it was my perspective and sense of self that were transformed.
I started, for the first time, to love myself. I knew that I had to love myself because I would have a child watching my every move. If I wanted to teach him self-compassion, I needed to model it – genuinely.
So, I'm not focused on striking a calorie deficit anymore. I don't concentrate on labels, I'm simply more mindful when I eat. And I have the most energy I've ever had.
It's taken me a long time to reach this point, and I didn't do it alone. My mother, father, and husband have served as an incredible support system. It makes me think back to the flying squirrel of my teen summers. We can all fly; we just need helping hands, sometimes, to make it possible.
