There have been so many diet trends in my fifty-some years.

It seems that we are always looking for ways to lose weight. We are looking for ways to be healthy. We want to be fit. We want to be accepted.

I can honestly say that I have only truly “dieted” three times in my life. I was raised in the 70’s and 80’s. I lived with a mother that struggled with her weight and was always trying something to help her meet her goals. Any trend diet, Slim Fast, Weightwatchers, and so much more.

I am not sure if watching her and knowing all through my childhood that she was “dieting”, made me think differently about my own weight and hers. I cannot ever remember thinking that my mother was overweight or obese. There may be times when she was heavier than other times, but never do I remember her being what I considered as, “fat”.

I was always a skinny child. Weight was not something I had ever thought about until later in my years.

When I was in high school, I was “fit”. I loved to “move”, walking and aerobics were the workouts for all, I mean, “Let’s get Physical”, was a song.  We were the first to wear workout clothes out in public. They were tight and the oversized shirt or sweatshirt would fall off the shoulder showing our sports bra. Richard Simmons was on television across America. We were the “Madonna” era. I know also that at that time, I was just hereditarily thin. I ate whatever I wanted and whenever I wanted. There were no boundaries to food.

I was thin. My ribs and bones protruded. I was told by older co-workers that I looked, “anorexic”, as I worked as a nurses’ aid at a local hospital. Nurses are blunt. I made an appointment and was seen by my doctor, in which at the time I was seen by a pediatrician. I wasn’t 18 years old, so I was a child. He examined me and did all kinds of lab work, only to find that I was a healthy teenager with a high metabolism.

Society is always so judgmental.  Deciding who is obese and who is anorexic. Always making others feel unworthy or insecure. I think that during that time, I made my own mind up on what I felt was healthy and what was not. I didn’t see anyone as “fat”.  We were all just who we were.

It wasn’t until I went to college and for health class, if we gave blood we were given extra credit. I did not meet the weight qualifications; I couldn’t give blood. I didn’t need the extra credit, but still felt it was unreasonable to offer that when not all students qualified. I felt discriminated.

I married my high school boyfriend a few years later. It was not until then did I know what they meant by the “Honeymoon” weight gain, I skipped the freshman fifteen in college, so I was very surprised when one day I went to put on my jeans only to find I couldn’t button them. Devastation.

I still wasn’t overweight; I was just healthy. I studied for my nursing classes and kept a diet of Coca-Cola and Snickers. I was happy and I was “healthy”, probably not healthy but that was a nursing student’s diet in those days.

Years later when we went through our infertility era, I put on the “hormone” weight, but I was still told I was too small to carry a multiple pregnancy, as we had decided that if 6 eggs were fertilized that it was meant to be. Our specialist did not agree. We know that God’s plan for us did not include this either.

After we had our first child, I had put on the “baby” weight, but a daily walk with a friend, the weight came off. Two more babies later and I still did not really struggle with my weight, but it was after my last baby was over two years old, I decided it was time to get back down to my “pre-baby” weight, in which meant the weight I was before I got pregnant with our first son, as for me, my body was continuously pregnant or nursing a baby for a little over five years straight.

I did Weight Watchers and lost weight with a lot of dedication and support. I kept losing weight way past me not following the plan, though. I was running three miles a day. I was obsessed. If I skipped, I would lie in bed, beating myself up until I would finally get up and go to the treadmill and run and then and only then, could I sleep. It was also shortly after this time that I went through my “empathetic” anorexia for my best friend and mother-in-law. I was so thin. Too thin according to my BMI.

At the time, I worked at a clinic, a doctor once pulled me aside and he said, “Enough”. He told me that I had lost enough weight, and it was time to stop and to gain weight. Little did he know what I was going through emotionally and mentally at the time.

I did gain weight eventually and I did stop running, as my knees also said, “Enough”, as they started talking by swelling and making extra noises with movement, especially with stairs. I experienced extreme anxiety, so going to the YMCA as I did regularly had also stopped. I started a sedentary job, and I gained weight.

I maintained my weight for years, but as time passed, I noticed another shift and tried the Atkins diet, with success. As with all fad diets, if it is not something you enjoy, it is not maintainable. It worked great momentarily, for a summer, but then I missed creamy soups and seriously, I just needed some bread.

The past year, I have focused so much on my mental health which regular exercise or eating healthy has not been included. I bake cakes. I bake cakes a lot and feed grown men. I feed them full meals, which may include cheese, cream cheese, butter, potatoes and bread.

Let’s just say, I weigh more than I did on the day(s) that I went into the hospital to have my babies.

I know society is looking at me and some are maybe gloating as they see me in public and I am sure my weight is topic with the “gossipers”, “Have you seen how big she has gotten?”

It is funny though, if I was thin, I would still be a “topic”. Society would say, “Oh, poor thing. Have you seen her? Her poor face is so drawn in and does she not know she is going to need a little extra weight, I mean, what if she gets sick?”

If I was “fit” and healthy, society would say, “Well, she has plenty of time to exercise and spend on herself. All her kids are grown, and it is just her and her husband.” Or they may say, “Hmmm, she must be looking for a new man."

I know, I have sadly been in those circles that have talked this way.

Maybe that is not what “society” would say and does it really matter what society thinks? Absolutely not, but words play in our head. Feeling judged.  I told my mom what I weighed one afternoon recently, why I am not sure, but her response, “Enough, that’s enough.” I looked at her dumbfounded. If only if she was like Jesus that stood in a boat and calmed the storm. If only her, “Enough”, would mean my extra pounds would just melt away. If only.

Well, enough is enough, but is it?

Oh, well, it is time to bake a cake.

Cake, anyone?

I know...