A Smaller Picture

Yep, that’s me. Inset of you’re run-of-the-mill 1980’s family snapshot, smiling along with my Mom on the left and my little sister – still new to the world – I flash a devilish grin from under my home-cut bangs. I was the fat kid - and I always have been.

The weight-gain was apparent early. It is nothing out of the ordinary to me. I have known being a bigger person longer that I have known my love of drawing. In fact, of in-body experiences fat is all I have ever known. According to my baby book, which my Mother kept updated until sometime when I was in high school, believe it or not, the unusually high weights started showing up as early as two or three years of age.

I suppose many reasons for this early weight could be speculated. Genes? Probably plays a part. My Grandma Boone’s family, the Eddy’s where of Sicilian decent – happy, plump Italians who loved their pasta – as did I. Grandma Stigall’s family, the Kettlers are all large-framed German farmers. My Dad and his brother have always been big men. My Mom too has always been on the heavier side. But if it were genes alone I would hope only to be more like my German cousins – more big in stature than is actual fat content carried on the body. Environment and acquired eating habits? This probably plays a part as well. “Clean your plate before you get up from the table” is a phrase I remember vividly as a child. That seemed to grow over the years into not only cleaning the plate, but going back to fill it again – and sometime again. Do I blame my parents for my weight? Absolutely not. In fact, I believe that I became an independent soul at an early age, being the oldest to my sister and my cousins with whom I was raised. I started to make up my own mind at an early age – and my Dad made sure that I understood the importance of making choices in life – especially about making good ones. I think it may be the plain and simple fact that I love food. I view food as much more than just a means for my body to function. It is a pleasure. Something in which to indulge one’s self. And I believe that my idea of “getting my fill” has been greatly a skewed over the years.

I never have liked to talk about my weight. So much so, in fact, that I became a person who, in many ways, was so outgoing that once you talked to me for only a few minutes my weight was no longer an issue. I prided myself in this – and am now also somewhat sorry for it. For I had denied my weight problem for so long that now, in a time when it has become vital to reshape myself for the sake of my health, it is insanely hard to change the way my body utilizes the food I eat. In simpler terms, losing the weight I need to lose now is much harder than anyone will ever know.

I really started to consider changing my life only five short years ago. The first 25 years of my life I was completely careless with my eating, and my weight got up to a shocking high when forced to finally get a physical checkup by my new wife – something I had not done since sometime in high school. I was finally shocked into the realization that I am not living for just myself anymore – I now have a family to take care of. I have a wife who I promised to grow old with and two strapping sons who deserve to have their Dad with them as they grow up and start families of their own. And I want grandchildren ever so badly, for reasons far beyond just wanting to be called “Grandpa.” After that doctor’s visit in 2005, after the shock of the massive amount of weight I now carried around, I was set and determined to change my body and become a healthier person.

In the last five years I have also discovered a sad truth: there are some areas of life where I have little to no control over myself. And let me tell you, my friends, that realization is devastating to a person who has every other aspect of their life in control.

So, why now? Why open up. Who cares? You see, six days ago I made one of the most difficult and scary choices ever put before me. In less than two weeks, on February 23, 2010, I will voluntarily go under the knife and have an operation performed that I hope will help me to change my life.

I have never had surgery. I am scared. I have also never had so much difficulty controlling any one aspect of my life. I am afraid that I will fail.

This blog is a part of my new approach to my life-long issues with my weight. I am going to start being honest and open with myself about my relationship with food, with my body and the comfort level I have in my own skin, and with that voice inside of me that beats me down for failure. I am laying this all out there for anyone to see. You too can experience my successes and also my possible my failures. I hope the latter is of much less frequency. I can only take it a day at a time and keep fighting in the right direction.

Welcome to my journey to find a smaller picture.