Hey, I'm Anna, I'm fat, nice to meet you.

I've had a private blog for a couple of years. I still have it, to be exact, but I've kinda stopped posting some time ago. I guess it's because when you're unemployed - which I was a year ago - there's just not much you can write about. And when you finally got a job, there's little you can write about as well. At least when your blog is a kind of digital diary. I loved every moment I spend in my blog community and whenever I post I feel like I finally got something off my chest. But this blog here is supposed to be different. It's supposed to be about one topic. Namely: Being a big woman. So first let me tell you something about my life and how my weight developed.

So, let me say Hello. I'm Anna, I'm 25 and I'm fat. Nice to meet you! (I'm also from Germany, so don't mind the occasional mistake, thank you.)

This won't be a blog about how I'm a BBW and proud of my body. Because I truly am not. Right at the contrary. I've been struggling with weight problems practically all my life. The older I got the more I became aware of how I look and that my look is not acceptable in the eyes of everyone. Not my classmate's, not my parents', not society's - and certainly not my own. I'll get into many aspects of these feelings in greater detail in other posts as time passes on.

When I was a little child I was a pretty little girl. Blond, huge green eyes, dressed by my mother in cute dresses, pretty much like a doll. When I look at my old pictures I don't see any weight problems - but my parents said I've always had a one or two pounds too much on my hips. However, it's been after a surgery I've had a child that I grew bigger and bigger. Of course we don't know for sure if the surgery is the reason for my life long obesity, it's just a theory we set up. But when I was around 6 I've had my tonsils taken out. Ever since that surgery I gained weight. More and more and more. We're not sure if it was a psychological or physical thing. Apparently I've had huge problems eating before the surgery - which is no surprise when your tonsils are swollen and hurt. Maybe it was a such feeling of relieve to finally be able to eat again that it stayed with me forever - or maybe the doctor screwed something up, maybe my thyroid didn't get through the surgery unharmed. But whatever reason: it's a fact I gained more and more weight after my tonsils were taken out.

In pictures from primary school it was hard to miss I was bigger than the other kids. And of course it was the time kids started to say evil things. Only I didn't stop eating.
I remember clearly how angry and disappointed I was, while in primary school, when my Dad had more to eat than me. Impossible! Why does he have more? I want to eat that much! I just didn't get that I was a child and my Dad 33 at that time. All I saw was that he had a huge plate full of food and I didn't. It was unfair. Food mattered. I even remember I once cried for hours until they bought a Pizza because I wanted one.

Even little me went for food in every situation. As soon as I got my hands on some money I'd buy a bag of candy at our local store. I would fool my mom and grandma into giving me money for ice cream without that they knew the other one already gave me money. Once I managed to buy three portions of ice cream before lunch. I also remember my grandma crying. One day she gave me money - and I immediately ran for the nearest store. I bought a plate of fries, I bought a can of soda and a bag of potato chips. Within moments the money was gone. When I came home and my Grandma saw I had already spend the money on junkfood she started crying. I felt really bad that day. I think I was 9 or 10 years old.

At the age of 14 I reached the weight of 180 pounds. My parents send me to a health clinic for 8 weeks. I had a truly amazing time. For the first  time in my school life I wasn't the fat one. I was just one among other overweight kids, underweight kids, kids with anxieties. Keeping to the rules from the clinic I lost a total of 40 founds in that phase of my life. My parents helped a lot. But then came the day I stepped onto the scale. I still remember it clearly. The numbers told me I lost a couple of pounds again. It was the weight of 144 pounds when I thought "Now you can go treat myself to something nice." And it all went downhill ... or should I say uphill from there.

Of course I've had countless diets. Every kind of diet. Weight Watchers, Atkins, Food Combining, Calorie Counting, Water-Diet, Almaset (replacing meals with a special drink). But no matter what I tried it never worked because of different reasons. It's not easy committing to diets when you LOVE cooking as much as I do or when there are cookies and snacks at work all the time.

Right now I'm at 236 pounds. XXXL. And the way it's going ... even though I don't want it to ... I don't see that changing any time soon.


Just That Fat Girl

P.S.: What's your story? Did you struggle with weight all your life? Feel free to share your story.