Why Did I Have to be Fat?

As I struggled to get up this morning to work out, then sighed in annoyance as I laced up my tennis shoes and finally as I huffed and puffed on the elliptical, I asked the Lord something I’ve wondered for a long time, “Why me? Why am I fat?” Why did this have to be my plight? Now, I’m not crazy, I know that as an adult, it’s my fault I’m overweight. But I’ve been fat for as long as I can remember. Even when I really wasn’t. Like my freshman year of college (pictured above). By my standards as an adult, I was skintee, but I remember being very self-conscious about my weight. I wouldn’t wear anything that showed my arms or knees and I frequently compared my body to other girls on campus.

As I got older and ironically when I was at my heaviest, I became the most confident I’d ever been in my life. I stopped caring about how people viewed me, but I never got comfortable or liked being overweight. So, after wanting to lose weight all of my 20s, I’m finally doing something about it. I’m going to get lipo. Jokes, jokes. I’m doing it the old-fashioned way– exercising and eating right. It actually feels good, except at 6:15 a.m. when I’m struggling to get out the bed.

But we all have a ‘thing’ right? An obstacle that keeps whipping us, reminding us we’re human and challenging us to be better. What’s your thing? More importantly, whatchu gon do about it?