It’s all BS. Ok got that first thought out of my head. When I was young, I always thought I was big. Size 8-10 in high school. Holly crap I was huge. At least I thought and now wish…no not wish…I shouldn’t be wishing for that. Bump it…it’s true, I wish I was there now. I was taller than my friends, usually, and many of them were size 0-2. What in the hell type of size is that? Size zero, non-existence absolute nothing size. Anyways…I gained some weight in college, then kids. No, not marriage…I didn’t do the traditional, but not really traditional, just the socially accepting thing. Yeah, I had a kid straight out of college ( that makes me sound hard like I’m straight out of Compton, knowing darn well I’m not!). I credit all my stretch marks up to my belly button to my oldest son. (Thank you, I love you)…got pregnant again. Ok …don’t judge me? If it makes you feel better, I got married before my second son was born…and to his father! I credit him, my second son, for the stretch marks from my belly button and up. (Love you too booboo. God bless.) From their, my weight went up and down (yep, got it back to my weight journey, the trials and tribulations of the kids is a different story for another day!). My highest weight reached 245 lbs (which I will double-check that in my handy-dandy journals I stopped keeping, I later went back and did…it was 256 lbs) to hitting 170 lbs…to going back up again. It’s like a yo yo….a roller coaster ride- that ain’t nobody want to be on but you can’t quite get off of it for good. It’s been 19 years since I had my oldest son and I’m still on this mother bleeping ride….like damn!
Authentically Liat 