At some point I realized why I allowed myself to put on so much weight. I didn't merely allow myself to put it on; I put it there on purpose. It's the ol' get fat so no one can get close to you trick.
I don't want to go too deeply into my past right now, but I'll say this: I've loved and lost a few times. I used to believe fully in the power of love, so I've fought for it more than once. I was left broken, bruised and bloodied each time. After my last serious relationship ended four years ago I just knew I couldn't survive another blow. And so I began to put on my armour of fat.
Gradually I grew to be content with being on my own. Physically, I didn't like the way I felt, but emotionally I was content. No man, no cry. I wasn't ready to shed the fat that was protecting me.
A few months ago an old high school crush reappeared in my life. He reminded me how it felt to be held, and then he reminded me how it felt to hurt. My armour failed me. It didn't protect me at all. I'm ready to take off this shoddy armour. Ninety pounds by the end of the year.
It's coming off.
