Being reflective and in touch.

A new blog, a new chapter in the life of me. To refrain from being a tad too Carrie Bradshaw sitting at her laptop discussing life’s intricacies, I’ve opted to fulfill my need of authoring and blatancy by chronicling myself via internet. I find that the process is therapeutic as well as helpful to becoming what I hope to be in a month, in a year, in a segment in time that’s not the present. I’ll shape today to enhance what I’ve done in the past to push forward into the future.

I guess I could choose to sound blasé and say that I’ve had a struggle with weight all my life, but let’s be honest—I know exactly when my conscious was made aware of my body not fitting into the “norm”. Homeroom, De La Paz Middle School, grade 7, Mrs. Wheeler’s classroom. Her name was Joann Miller (okay, so that isn’t really her name, but you never who may stumble upon this blog and decide to pursue legal action—for the scrupulous, I’ve changed her name) and she had an oddity to herself. Namely, she was short, very short. Never really to be the obnoxious type of child to point and laugh at someone’s shortcomings (no pun intended) I do admit to having joined in the pointing this time at her expense. Naturally, being the easiest to single out, she simply stated why should I be laughing? After all, “you’re fat!” she informed me.

And the downhill slide began. I recall lying in bed later that night, unable to sleep, thinking to myself, “I am fat.” I had seen TV shows before, heard relatives call each other “fat”, and been made aware that there are people out there that are “fat”. Had I ever included myself in this group? Oh, no. It’s boggling to me at this point in my life even when I think back and realize that that notification of myself, who I had obviously been for a while, struck me with such shock and disbelief.

Well, from then on I was always the big kid and began college as a very large young adult. I remember trying, my senior year in high school, to lose weight but never really achieving much success. My parents live in the country and I would jog the trails in the second acre of land, in sweatpants, for a few weeks before graduation. I recall dropping some weight and noticing a small difference, but never really knowing how much since the scale we had didn’t go as high as my weight did. When the scale has rolled all the way around past zero and you have to begin to sum the number that maxes out plus additional poundage, yes, you are heavy.

Well, I began college and continued to live my life the way I always had, knowing I was “fat” but being the person that was nice and you couldn’t call fat to his face. I remember at times hearing classmates, family, or friends rewording how they said something as to not offend me. You see, at that point in my life, I wasn’t as brash or able enough to cope with being singled out for not being thin. That was okay I thought. I wondered, how does it feel to be skinny? How does it feel to be the attractive one? To not rely on your other skills? To be demoralized and thought of as just a piece of meat? For me, at that point, it would not be demoralizing as it was for the forever-thin, beautiful people. It would be rather uplifting.

So, I’m driving home one day from class back home when I hear a DJ on the radio advertise Metabolife 356. How you take two tablets before a meal and watch the weight begin to come off. What?! I’ve heard of the hoaxes that diet pill-makers spew, and—being the intellectual I was—have read the stories of them ultimately not working. But, at this stage in my life, I had never tried diet pills. Actually, I had never really tried much. Tried “dieting” for a week or so and realizing that it wasn’t easy and that the weight doesn’t come off even when you think that since it’s chicken breast that the pounds should just slip away.

So, at the urgency in my voice, my mom bought a bottle for me. I began taking them, thinking that surely I was thinner as they hit my stomach. But, oddly enough, this time it was different. I somehow really wanted to see this through. Can I lose weight? I know I’ve tried and haven’t succeeded but is this what I need to help me do it? So I began exercising. Using a stationary bike, I started. My mother was always the most supportive. No she may not have completely revamped the dinner menu, but she would buy me workout clothes, ask how it was going, and just be there when I needed to vent. Love her.

Well, to help aid in not turning this blog into a novel, after two weeks I did notice a difference. Did I drop a pant size or stop traffic with my body? No. But I saw, in my face, that there was a difference. As I said before, I don’t know if this was the point in my life when I was just ready or things fell into place, but I continued on, exercising, beginning to eat healthier, and continued taking my diet pills as suggested.

I hate to give credit to such a dramatic weight loss to diet pills, but these did have ephedra in the form of ma huang in them—prior to ephedra being banned by the FDA. In any case I ended up losing about 130 pounds, going from over 320 to 195 pounds at my lightest. Going from pant size 48 to 36, from 3XL shirts to medium. The first third of my weight loss was with the help of diet pills, but the last of it was sheer exercise and eating less. I must note that I hadn’t realized until after I wasn’t demented that I did have bulimia. Not in the form of binging and purging via emesis, but in the form of binge eating (usually sweets) and exercising excessively.

So I was uber thin for about a year then I decided to move out on my own, get a job, go to school, and you know: experience life. At this transitional point in my life I did come into my own. Meaning that I experimented with a guy. Yes, I know many of you are making the face, the “okay… ew” face, but you know I had always internally struggled with who exactly I was. And, no, we can never truly get to that point, no matter how devoid of extrinsic factors are in our life or how at-peace with ourselves we become. Our true self is evolutionary. It changes with time, our environment, and our life experiences. It’s taken many years to realize that I can aspire to become what I want to be over time and once I reach that point there is another milestone to overcome; be it weight issues, sexuality, or anything in between.

So, with a newly revamped persona, new exterior, and a newfound confidence I was ready to face the world and begun coming out—a very, very enchanting and memorable experience. The feeling that you get when you tell someone close to you that may or may not have suspected and entrusting them with your secret. A secret, I might add, that tends to fade after awhile as you adjust into the lifestyle that has chosen you. I do mean lifestyle that chooses you because being gay isn’t a decision, it isn’t a symptom, or a preventable circumstance. Being gay and living as a gay individual can be tumultuous at times, can be confusing, and at times seems like there should be a handbook on how to be gay. That being said, I don’t believe anyone chooses to be gay. As a gay person you think that I could be biased, and you may be right, but I may as well. So, who really knows? Now I will go on record by saying that to what degree you exhibit your lifestyle, how far you have decided to be boisterous, and to whom you decide to share your personal life with is for the most part up to you as an individual. I do believe that certain people may act certain ways as a means of expression and others do it for attention; however, I don’t think someone should be something they are not. Something they are not comfortable with, or somebody who has to adapt to their environment to be accepted. Acceptance should be appreciated, but never mandatory. Be who you are, be true to yourself and your morals, and the rest falls into place. No, it may not make the road any smoother, or your future any brighter, but it does help you realize the person that you are to become.

So, tangent aside, I began going out, meeting people, learning all about “how to be gay”. I sort of half laugh at that but unless you’ve been in those shoes you wouldn’t understand that especially for someone who is relatively shy and protected most of their lives, it seems that there should be a handbook on how to act, dress, and speak. What diction to acquire, what shoes go with what, and are brown shoes okay with a black shirt if the belt is brown? So many options, so many factors—how is one to know all of this right out of the gate?

I have, to this day, never made it expressly known to my parents that I am gay or when I’ve had a boyfriend. I have, at times, introduced them to the person I am seeing or happen to be fond of, but usually as a friend. This move to avoid “coming out” to my parents may seem shameful or cowardly to some, but for me it is appropriate. After all, I never knew a time when my brother or friends sat their parents down, drew in a deep sigh, looked down trembling and said, “Mom… Dad… I’m straight!” Therefore, I feel justified in my beliefs and actions thus far. Now, I am not saying that there will not come a point in my life when I should make it blatantly apparent to my parents that I am gay, or that my friend is really my boyfriend. That being said, my parents are amazing individuals and I could not ask for more. They provide me with unconditional love and overzealous support and admiration for which I am thankful.

So, years pass, I stopped going to school. It just didn’t seem to fit into me becoming who I was. I wanted, no needed, to go out and experience life. Clubs, shopping, traveling (nowhere far), and making lifelong friends who are a second family to me were all things I needed to experience. And I did.

So, fast forwarding to dysfunctional today. I am in the process of moving away from home. Nowhere too, too far, but yes away. It’s very scary. It’s an undertaking to say the least. What if I don’t like my job? Or what if I don’t make friends? And, Lord, what will I do those lonely nights when I’m utterly alone, feel lonesome, and would ordinarily call a girl friend up and hang out? That’s yet to be discovered and yet to be seen. I do hope and I am very optimistic that I will assimilate myself seamlessly into a “new” life. Something grand lies beyond the horizon. At least I believe so.

I need to lose weight and get back to being the health nut I was. Yes it’s uplifting when you are comfortable in your own skin, but it’s also awe-inspiring when you can be that confident. I know I’m big, I know I’ve gained most of the weight back. But that’s okay, who I am is still the same. The life lessons learned are still there and I am stronger now. I am more equipped to handle the fame of a small town. I joke. That’s a hyperbole. But when you make a lot of friends and can go out on the town and go alone and meet someone you know, give them a hug, and make it a night you know that aren’t just accepted but appreciated. I like to be appreciated, and always will be by my friends and my family, but not my new environment. Environments change and so do we. Let’s see where I fit into the picture in my life. After all, it’s our lives that enable us to be alive.