I don’t expect this blog will get too many viewings outside of my friends and family who already know about it, but in case it does, I suppose some backstory is in order. Besides, it’s never a bad idea to record things for posterity.

It’s hard to know where to begin. Should I start where I sometimes do, explaining my high school illness? Or perhaps where I usually do, complaining about how I’ve tried and tried and tried again to lose weight and become more healthy? Or with yesterday’s epiphany, which changed it all and inspired this blog?

Perhaps I’ll start with high school and just get it over with. When I was a sophomore, I began to get sick. A lot. I threw up at least once a day, and barely ate anything the rest of it. I lost 30 pounds in a month, and then put on another 20, only to lose another 15, etc. Of course my parents took me to a doctor (several doctors, actually), and several misdiagnoses occurred.

March 2007, I was finally diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and put on a low-dose estrogen therapy which actually worked. After 5 years, we finally had an answer, but it wasn’t without cost. I had accrued severe weight gain (I’m currently about 60 pounds overweight for my height and race), a horrible reaction to the prescribed steroids which left my skin ruined and scarred, and a jaded attitude towards medicine. I had also torn my left ACL a few years back, which in addition to the sickness I used as a crutch to keep from being very active.

Over the years, I had tried several times to “get back into shape.” I tried diets, various gym routines, accountability partners; nothing worked. I’d get on a “healthy” kick to lose X amount of weight, get frustrated, and give up. It scared me that my family has a history of diabetes and heart disease, and that PCOS put me a greater risk for both; it just didn’t scare me enough to stick with it. I felt guilty around my skinny friends, especially my very trim boyfriend, and always felt very insecure about myself. I hated seeing pictures of myself, and hated to shop for clothes.

Plus, I love to eat. Cooking is a great passion of mine, and so I tend to eat way more food way more often than I should. It doesn’t help that my family is not exactly setting the bar very high when it comes to these things, either.

But yesterday? I don’t know, something just clicked. I finally realized that all these things are just excuses. I’m 21 now, it’s time to stop whining and just start changing. I know it’ll be hard, but that’s not going to stop me. Here’s what I’m going to do differently:

- this time, I’m not going to go for a number on a scale. I’m going to aim at monthly fitness goals.

- this time, I’m not going to starve myself or make food a reward. I’m going to live by the rule of moderation, and in general, try to eat better by incorporating more vegetables, whole grains, and fruit in my life and less fried or processed things. I’m also going to cook for myself more often and avoid frozen “diet” foods.

- this time, I’m going to rely on my boyfriend, my friends, my blog and a poster in my room to help me stay motivated

- this time, I’m not going to give up. I’m not going to accept defeat or excuses.

- this time I can and I will change.