The Secret Behind My Rock Bottom Moment That I’ve Never Shared

 

Have you ever felt so terrible about something you did that you didn’t tell anyone and tried to act like it didn’t happen?

 

Maybe you were successful at it (like I was), and you can repress the memory of the experience for a good long time… choosing to forget or deny it ever happened.

 

Until you have to do soul searching to figure out why you are the way you are.

 

I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve been lying to you. Shame makes us keep secrets, and I’ve kept a big one from almost everyone I know.

 

If I’m honest, it’s really none of your business, so I’m not obligated to tell you anything.

 

But I’m going to because I know you have some shameful secrets of your own that are festering inside you. Ones that either make you shy away from the world or lash out in destructive ways.

 

Almost ten years ago, I had an abortion.

 

It’s one of those fears every teenager and woman in her early 20’s has nightmares about. I used to have these ideas in my head that I’d make my boyfriend wear multiple condoms just in case.

 

But as the years go by, sometimes you forget that pregnancy is real, and you get a bit careless… especially after being in a failed marriage that resulted in no pregnancies.

 

My first doctor’s visit as a grown ass woman was to Planned Parenthood for an abortion. I avoided the doctor up until then because I was thoroughly embarrassed by the size of my body at 300 pounds.

 

I wasn’t in any position to give birth to or raise a child. My boyfriend was schizophrenic, and I worked part-time at Macy’s department store. Financially and genetically, it was logically a stupid move.

 

But that didn’t stop the hormones from making me want to keep the baby. I thought up all kinds of schemes in which I could raise the child and still somehow make it.

 

I was talked out of that nonsense.

 

Exactly one week before Thanksgiving, I had the procedure that cost me $836 and shifted the direction my life was headed in forever.

 

I’ve lived the last nine years of my life for a child that was never born. I cleaned up my act, drastically improved my health, went back to school (after being a high-school dropout), got myself the best job I’ve ever had as an adult, and started living a life I didn’t know possible.

 

So, when people ask me what my rock bottom moment was for wanting to lose 150 pounds, it was the child and life I could have had.

 

Instead of raising my kid to know right from wrong, how to spell Mississippi, or how to be brave enough to stand up to a bully at school… I had to teach myself those things first.

 

I dedicate my weight loss transformation and the experiences it’s gifted me to my aborted baby.

 

I dedicate a big FUCK YOU to anyone who will judge me for this and somehow believe they could have made a better decision when placed in my shoes.

 

And I dedicated one last FUCK YOU to the people who say you shouldn’t want to lose weight and just love yourself and your body the way it is.

 

We all have our reasons.

 

Fitting into skinny jeans is just the socially acceptable answer we give ourselves and others. Deep down, it’s messier than that. But that’s the reason that will motivate and push you through the hard times.

 

Your emotional wounds might be dark and scary, but choosing yourself and your health in spite of them is always better than being paralyzed by regret and shame for what you’ve done or what’s been done to you.

 

Every day is a chance to turn it all around. Shame can be a catalyst for that.

 

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