When I first saw this thread title I was going to facetiously reply “by eating a bit more when I was 99kg”. But thought it would be helpful for me to write it down.
always a fat child. With an obese mother and an overweight father. We were middle class but poor, but it was the 80s so chocolate and crisps were the answer.
when I was about 8/9/10, my mum and some friends set up a “slimming group” to which I and my sister went, with exercises to a Rosemary Conley tape. Weekly weigh ins, scales kept in the kitchen, weight written down for us on our own cards. But no (as far as I can remember) change to our diet - indeed, feeling up with big bowls of cheap ice cream as pudding was a family joke. And finishing everything on our plate was a given. It has given me a life long fear of scales.
Hit puberty, and I can tell eg by year 7 photo that I was pretty normal (thought not skinny) at that point. I had boobs and hips (and a bigger bra size than my mum had ever taken, but our bras were bought from the market and I was in my 20s before I was properly measured, but I remember my mum saying “but she can’t be a D cup, that’s enormous”) so I thought I was fat but I wasn’t particularly - was wearing size 10/12 clothes at that point and was 5’3”. I know size 12 is seen as practically enormous by some here, but compared to my family history and personal history since rhen, it would have been fine if I’d been encouraged to think of that as a good place to be.
then disordered eating as I grew more - skipped breakfast, gave away lunch, threw up Christmas meals a couple of times. Always lots of home talk about gaining/putting on weight.
when I got to about 16 I realised that skipping meals might have kept me below 9 stone but wasn’t ideal. But I knew nothing useful about nutrition or healthy eating. And sixth form was bread buns and chocolate bars. University was catered halls, takeaway pizzas, and a lot of alcohol. By the time I weighed myself again I was 22 and 93kg. I genuinely thought I was about 11 stone, so to find out I was 14 and a half was a shock.
I started exercising a bit, but by then I think the disordered eating had hit in.
went on weight watchers in my 20s, got down to about 80kg. But by the time I had my babies my weight always hovered around that 93-95kg mark.
and then I had 10 years of pregnancy, breastfeeding and very little sleep. I kept myself awake through multiple night wakings and a demanding job with sugar. My biggest thing is that I cannot resist food if it’s in front of me.
I cook well. I do a lot of (nearly all)scratch cooking - the only sauce I might use would be pesto or a base curry paste (and even then I’m as likely to make my own). Takeaways are a once or twice a year treat. Never eaten McDonald’s or similar (in fact, it’s just about the only type of food I can quite happily pass by). Eat 5+ a day. I bake a lot. I don’t go to the doctor as I’m convinced thst being fat, female and over 40 the answer will (rightly) be “lose 5 stone”. I have a grumbly gallbladder and I’m concerned about that if I started using MJ.
I do walk - aim for 10000, average around 8.5k a day. Swim for a mile or so once a week. Stretch/do small weights at home.
now it’s the lure of the (home made) treats - I have teenage boys and they need filling and I can’t resist it if it’s there. And the carbs at every meal - if I cooked just for myself, i wouldn't have them, but they are there as part of a balanced meal for the kids and my husband (who has never had to worry abput his weight) just cant contemplate having a lunch without bread. and once its in front of me - i have no control.
I’ve given up on myself ever having a healthy relationship with food. I berate myself on a daily basis for eating so much. But.. I'm determined to break the cycle. and it’s still early days - I’m raising three children who have never heard home discussions about diets, who are encouraged to move and exercise for fun (and enjoy it!), who are normal weights for their ages, are allowed treats without guilt but also make healthy choices.
my mum must be 20 stone + now and in her mid 70s. She can barely move - laziness, mental and physical health means she can’t do things like go up and down the stairs without it being a drama, chooses the smaller supermarkets with easier parking so she doesn’t have to go far. Literally the only time she walks a distance would be to go to a hospital visit. When my dad was in hospital for 3 weeks, her daily walking from the car to the ward was actually making her healthier. But shes never walked the 5 minutes to the local beach where they’ve retired.
I can use her example to make me move more. But I can’t seem to get it to deal with the eating.
(that has been weirdly cathartic…)