I'm 5'4 (162 cm), 22, female, CW 169 pounds (76.5 kg), down from 183. Today is my first day of not being obese in 2 years.
I know this may sound like it's not a lot, but I cried when I saw the scale because cracking into the 160's has felt absolutely impossible.
In the last four weeks, I have lost 14 pounds through calorie restriction and portion control. My diet is still pretty bad (a lot of junk and fast food), but I am trying to get better. It's not much in the grand scheme of the fifty or more pounds I've gained in the past five years, but it feels really good.
I've been sticking to a strict 1200 calorie diet and recording every bite. I've been using a calorie tracker app on my phone that has been really helpful. This is the first serious progress I've made in the last four years of gaining weight and trying to lose, so I'm praying to keep up the momentum.
I'm pretty sedentary (being in grad school has basically kept me in a state of constant study) and exercise has always been difficult for me even when I was thin due to severe asthma. I know lot's of asthmatics exercise a lot, but I'm hoping to get down a bit more before I try more strenuous exercise beyond walking. I do love to walk my dogs though.
I had some really tough years, so any weight loss feels big. I grew up in what was basically a religious weight loss cult. Basically obesity was considered to be a literal sin that you could go to Hell for, and long periods of fasting were encouraged. If you were fat, you were going to Hell. My mother had a lot of anorexic tendencies and she instilled in me a fanatical fear of being overweight. When I was a chubby child, she would make me weigh every day and brag about how she weighed less than me even though she was an adult.
I lost a lost of weight when I hit puberty, going down to 125 in high school. The first round of weight loss was natural and I was pretty healthy at that weight. My mother "encouraged me" that 125 was still fat and that I had at least 10 pounds left to go. I really felt like I was ugly and disgusting and basically that no one would ever love me until I was below 115 at least. I began getting into a bit of anorexia and bulimia when I was 17. I wasn't very good at either and didn't lose weight. Around that time I began questioning a lot of the religion stuff. A couple really unpleasant and traumatic things happened to me and I fell into a deep depression at 18 and I basically just let go.
Since I couldn't drink, do drugs, or have sex and still be a good Christian girl, I ate to fill up that hole in my heart. It was my form of self destruction, the worst kind of sinfulness in my community. The more I gained weight, the deeper I fell into depression and suicidal thoughts. I became increasingly withdrawn and lonely. I fully believed that my weight gain was a punishment from God because I didn't believe in Him (kind of paradoxical, but that was my life). I was told by my mother and several church leaders that until I lost the weight, I was a sinner who should stay out of church to keep "others from going astray." When I hit 175 (obese in BMI), I really felt utterly worthless. I actually did have a suicide attempt. That was a year and a half ago.
I got out of the church last year. I've been in grad school out of state. It's been hard, but my mental health is improving. But despite leaving my restrictive community, I couldn't lose the weight. This was really hard for me because I was taught all my life that losing weight outside of the church was impossible. So being 14 pounds down is really huge for me, because that means I can change without the oppressive doctrine of my childhood religion.
I really hope I can keep it up. I'm going one day at a time. It would be amazing to learn how to be healthy without all the harmful baggage of my youth. Doing the math, I'm almost 25% percent of the way there. If I keep up my habits and lose 1-2 pounds a week, I could be down the next 44 pounds by winter. I don't quite expect that, but it does give me a lot of hope!
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