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food is my drug
by Guest Fri Sep 26, 2014 9:32 am
http://www.cnn.com/2014/09/26/living/weight-struggles-first-person/index.html?hpt=hp_c4
You've met me before. I'm the fat, funny girl who is often hailed for my confidence and self-esteem. The big girl who has "such a pretty face" and who, despite her weight, manages to snag really great looking boyfriends.
I "dress really well for my size" and am so much fun to be around because of my outgoing personality.
"Don't call me fat, I prefer the term 'fluffy' " I say and you smile at how I am able to put you at ease about an uncomfortable subject.
I'm the first with a "Hell yeah!" fist pump for slogans like: "Sexy has no size" and "Love me for who I am, not what I look like."
But I suffer from the one addiction that doesn't elicit much sympathy from most people.
Were this a confession of meth abuse or alcohol, I would anticipate an entirely different reaction. But my drug of choice is one that will likely elicit more eye rolls and accusations than loving embraces of support.
Food is my drug.
According to the informal definition, an "addict" is "an enthusiastic devotee of a specified thing or activity." That's me, all day. You couldn't find anyone more enthusiastic about food and eating than yours truly.
My Instagram account is evidence of that. The food photos there compete only with the number of strategically shot selfies (all positioned in such a way to conceal my fat of course).
In my spare time I devour food autobiographies that I attack as lustfully as a porn junkie -- often pairing them with something delicious.
I have driven a stupid amount of miles to satisfy a craving and even canceled on friends to sit in my house and eat. More of my money has been spent dining in good restaurants and buying groceries than some people make in a year. I've eaten to the point of getting sick and once I was empty, have eaten again.
You've met me before. I'm the fat, funny girl who is often hailed for my confidence and self-esteem. The big girl who has "such a pretty face" and who, despite her weight, manages to snag really great looking boyfriends.
I "dress really well for my size" and am so much fun to be around because of my outgoing personality.
"Don't call me fat, I prefer the term 'fluffy' " I say and you smile at how I am able to put you at ease about an uncomfortable subject.
I'm the first with a "Hell yeah!" fist pump for slogans like: "Sexy has no size" and "Love me for who I am, not what I look like."
But I suffer from the one addiction that doesn't elicit much sympathy from most people.
Were this a confession of meth abuse or alcohol, I would anticipate an entirely different reaction. But my drug of choice is one that will likely elicit more eye rolls and accusations than loving embraces of support.
Food is my drug.
According to the informal definition, an "addict" is "an enthusiastic devotee of a specified thing or activity." That's me, all day. You couldn't find anyone more enthusiastic about food and eating than yours truly.
My Instagram account is evidence of that. The food photos there compete only with the number of strategically shot selfies (all positioned in such a way to conceal my fat of course).
In my spare time I devour food autobiographies that I attack as lustfully as a porn junkie -- often pairing them with something delicious.
I have driven a stupid amount of miles to satisfy a craving and even canceled on friends to sit in my house and eat. More of my money has been spent dining in good restaurants and buying groceries than some people make in a year. I've eaten to the point of getting sick and once I was empty, have eaten again.
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