gain to lose

I sure was healthy, but there was a specific thing people saw different about me from any other child: my weight. The thinness in me. I had always been called out for my weight by everyone. Every party we attended or hosted, the first thing anyone would say or point out when they saw me was, “ Look at you, you’re so skinny,” “you need to eat more”.

It was never bothering because I was such a young child I didn't think it was a problem people saw in me, and I've been told all the time, where I heard it on a regular basis. It wasn't big enough of a concern to make my parents worry, so they never really did anything about it.

I was always forced into eating a lot by people at gatherings. I was never able to control how much I wanted to eat because I would eat so little. Standing to the side watching as my plate piles and piles, knowing it would be a waste of food because I wouldn't end up eating everything.

I didn't really see myself the way other people saw me. I didn't know what a so-called “skinny” child looked like in my eyes. Being known as the skinny quiet girl in my family wasn't really the label I cried out for, but I felt pleased to at least be acknowledged.

Once when I was in third grade, I was told by a classmate that I was so skinny and how I could die from this. I started to think and realized that maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am too skinny. Maybe I'm just not seeing myself right. I was worried. Worried for my life: my health.

I remember going home that day, anxiously running straight to my mom to tell her what had happened. How I've been told that I could possibly die from my weight. All I could recall from this memory is her telling me that I'll be fine. And honestly, that's all I really needed to hear. That I was going to be okay and nothing was going to happen to me.

Growing up, I haven't made much progress trying to gain weight. I had a fast metabolism, so everything I ate just went to waste. I decided to just stop trying and focus on my future. So I stuck with that decision. My weight problems never came on my mind, and I just went on with my life day by day.

Going into quarantine in 2020 was unexpected. We all had huge expectations and personal goals we wanted to achieve for ourselves, but with everything on lockdown, most people lost motivation.

Personally, being stuck at home was, I guess you could say, dry. Things took the wrong turn and I lost motivation. I was extremely tired of everything. I had no enthusiasm for anything going on around me.

I felt alone. Though I had friends to talk to, I never held any interest in talking to them. Not even my family. Nothing but the feeling of not wanting to be bothered. Feeling irritated as anyone tried to talk to me or go anywhere near me. I cut a lot of ties with my friends because of this, though there was no exact reason.

A close friend of mine whom I have been with since sixth grade noticed that I wasn't acting the same.

Jeanine: “Um— you weren't really as open as you were before and your mood was really different.”

I didn't know how to deal with this feeling. I spent most of my time in the kitchen continuously getting snacks out of the pantry. It was the only thing I did. So that's when I realized, I was binge eating.

Eating was the only thing I enjoyed doing. No matter if I was full, I would just keep going. It was my way of comfort. The only route I was able to take to cope with my emotions.

This went on for months. There were piles of food wrappers sitting on my bedside table growing everyday, waiting to get thrown away, but the only thing I cared about was getting my stomach filled till it felt as if it were going to burst. I enjoyed the feeling. I didn't know how to limit myself and I never thought about my weight.

I went on a video call with my grandmother from abroad, thinking she would be excited to see me, but that one phone call changed everything.

She answered the phone, and before I even got a hello, she looked at me in disgust. Her first words to me being, “you're getting fat. You were more pretty when you were skinnier.”

In seconds, my heart broke. I handed the phone to my dad and quickly ran off. I locked myself in my room and broke down with those same exact words I've been told repeating in my head over and over again.

The feeling of guilt, anger, and humiliation I had at that very moment. Not to my grandmother, but to myself. Embarrassed at the fact that I never tried to control myself.

That night, I stayed up thinking and researching. My google search history was filled with questions on how I could lose weight, but none of the results came to my satisfaction.

Since that day, I started seeing myself differently. Everytime I looked into the mirror, I would just sit there and cry. I became more insecure about my body than I had ever been my whole life.

I slowly started eating smaller portions of food, knowing it would be the only way I could

lose weight without trying. I replaced food with water when I was filled with hunger.

My brother started noticing my habits, but it never standed out to him what was going on.

Matt: “I never thought of it as anything. But I noticed you were always in your room, and during dinner you would spend at least a couple minutes playing with your food. You were looking so worried, and you would eat very little, and after you would eat you would run away”

Eating smaller portions of food later on turned into skipping meals. I tried skipping as much as my body could hold.

I began seeing food in a different manner. As if there were a plate full of worms right in front of me ready to be eaten. And just like that, food became my worst enemy.

I lost all sort of interest when it came to food. It felt like a phobia. The thought, the look, and just the presence of it was frightening to me.

Matt: “You only ate one spoonful of food, and throw away the leftovers, even if it was just your favorite food, and you know that it's a waste of food. You would just grossly look at the food, and be so picky about the food.”

I was really struggling to eat. I was shaking everyday from hunger, but I just couldn't get anything past my lips. I would cry and gag until the food made its way down to my stomach. It's not that I didn't want to eat, but I felt rather nauseous when I tried. I would take one bite of food and call it a day. It was enough for me to survive for the next 24 hours.

Jeanine: “I was really concerned for you, like really concerned. But I was also worried because obviously an eating disorder is not healthy, so I would always try to check up on you and made sure you ate. At least just a little bit”

There was a time when I was in the bathroom washing my face, and all of a sudden, I started feeling nauseous and lightheaded. I was confused as to why I was feeling that way. I quickly finished washing my face and ran back to my room to grab a water bottle that was sitting on my bedside table and got in bed trying not to pass out.

I tried to catch my breath before I could do anything. I felt a sharp pain in my chest and I couldn't hold any thoughts at that moment. My vision started getting dark and I felt my body getting extremely hot and my head beating louder and more tense.

I controlled my breathing, and in seconds, it went away. I didn't know what had happened. I just drank water and brushed it off like nothing had ever come up.

The next morning, my family and I were sitting at the dinner table, and my mom looked at me with extreme concern and told me I looked like I was getting skinnier and how dangerous it is for my health. My mood lit up fast. I didn't care about how unhealthy it was.

I based my mood off of what the number on the scale said. Seeing the numbers go down was my only source of happiness. My fingers being able to wrap around my whole wrist was my sign. A sign that I'm making progress with what I'm doing.

In may of 2021, my grandpa passed away, and that's when it hit me hard. That was the first time I ever lost someone so valuable to me. He was always there for my family, and was there to take care of my brother and I when we were younger at the times my parents weren't present.

It was hard to take in the fact that he was gone. It ruined my eating even more because I was in too much grief. For days, I didn't know how to respond to anything.

Jeanine: When your grandpa died, your eating got kind of worse, and um i know that was your breaking point because he was like a second dad to you since he raised you for half of your life”

On the day of my grandpa's funeral, I saw my dad cry for the first time. It broke my heart. Seeing him cry was the worst type of pain I ever felt.

It made me realize that my grandpa would be so disappointed in me if he knew what I was doing. He wouldn't want me to live like this. I wasn't placed into this earth to suffer. He would want me to take care of myself and be happy with my life.

I started forcing myself to slowly eat more than one bite of food a day. It was very hard to get used to, but I didn't want to give up.

It took a while to get myself back on track. I slowly started seeing the potential strengths in me and I saw hope. I was repeatedly telling myself that I am worthy. I persisted until I started believing it. I had to appreciate the things my body could do, and convince myself I am more than who I believe I am.

I'm learning to be more comfortable and happy in my own body. I'm taking care of myself, puting the thought in my mind that the world is not perfect. I'm not perfect, nor will I ever be.

Music Credits ---------------------------

"Watching the Stars" - Lesfm

"Out Of Time" - Zakharvalaha

"Dreamy Piano" - WinkingFoMusic

"Uplifting Piano" - Lesfm