ualaw08

I'm successful. I'm very successful. I have a great career. Great husband. Great kids. Great life. I can buy what I want and do what I want to do. At the age of 35, I have accomplished more than anyone in my family can say they ever have or maybe ever will. But, I'm fat. I'm very fat. I have a great personality and I am smart. I can afford to buy my suits from the plus size section of Neiman Marcus or Nordstroms. I wear nice perfume and keep my hair gorgeous. So, I get away with being fat.
Everything I just mentioned above is from an external point of view. On the inside I am dying. I have no health issues related to my morbid obsesity just yet, but it is definitely impacting my life. Those fine suits I mentioned...I can't wear nice heels to match because my feet are too fat to fit. In fact, my feet are too fat to fit most shoes.I have to ask for a seat belt extender on airplanes. I fly weekly and am embarrased weekly. Bracelets don't fit either. Necklaces look like they are choking me. My fingers look like sausages and when I smile, my eyes looked closed.
At my daughter's pre-K graduation in June, I fell through the deck in which the reception was taking place.
I'm lucky that I haven't always been this way. I'm even luckier I won't always be.