I started this back here. It takes me awhile to get my thoughts together and awhile longer to overcome my reluctance to “self-disclose” even as an anonymous FatLady on the internet. But here goes with another installment of my tale:

I got a kidney infection and landed in the hospital for a month when I was 11. After the hospital I was at home, confined to my bed for another 2 months. (My poor mother, eh?) Essentially I was out of school from early February until May, not long after my 12th birthday.

With the kidney infection–I was apparently near renal failure when they discovered it–I had gained about 20 lbs in a few days. I remember that when they admitted me to the hospital, I weighed in at just over 100lbs. One of the nurses made this little “gasp” sound behind me and I thought she was making fun of me. By the time they got me back to my room, I was in tears. They thought I was crying because I was sick or scared or something. No. I was crying because I was ashamed.

Naturally that fluid build-up came off during my recovery. Meanwhile my activity level was severely restricted for about a year: no running, no biking, no swimming. I wasn’t allowed to try out for the junior high cheerleader squad. Mom of course never dialed back the portion sizes and the clean plate rule remained in effect. I don’t think I ever got back below 100 pounds. I was 4′11”.

It wasn’t all weight gain from inactivity though. Puberty hit me like a runaway freight train. It began while I was stuck home in my pajamas.

I remember getting ready to go back to school and realizing I had boobs. Good grief. My mother went out and bought me a training bra but it must have been too late for that–I blew right out of it within a couple weeks and had to have regular bras–with “B” cups. Ka-BANG!

I got hips too, but everyone thought I was just fat. My pants didn’t fit but I hadn’t grown any taller. My mother, who has always, until post-menopause, been a tiny thing, started making “fat” comments. My dad started teasing me, which was mortifying.

Then the catcalls from men on the street. Good heavens. I was 12. I didn’t know how to handle that! More shame!

I think I remember going on my first official “diet” with my mother that summer. It consisted of dry toast for breakfast, cottage cheese for lunch, and something equally nasty for dinner–plain salads or something. The high point of the day was being allowed to have some cantaloupe before bed. I don’t remember if I lost any weight or not. I know the only exercise I was allowed was walking. My new best friend and I walked for miles and miles–but I also remember sneaking change off Dad’s dresser and stopping at the corner store for ice cream bars or snack cakes because I was hungry. Really, really hungry. I also remember that my mother and I spent a lot of time screaming at each other that summer–the beginning of a long-time trend. In retrospect, I think maybe she was hungry too.

Funny thing about my puberty though: I didn’t actually have a period until I was 14. I’m not sure if that has any significance or not. It was just something else for me to feel ashamed about since all my friends got theirs ahead of me. I think I was the last.

Missing all that school had other ramifications. The schoolwork wasn’t an issue since my parents hired a tutor for me. The real issue was that I missed out on the socialization. I was part of the “in” group when I went in to the hospital. When I finally got back to school three months later, I was definitely “out. The boys and girls were starting to look at each other and I missed out on it.

By the time the next school year came around, I was an outcast. the Mean Girls told me I was fat, which I believed. After all I had spent the whole summer cheating on my “diet.” I was in 7th grade. I was about 5′ tall, about 105-115* and I was a miserable, unhappy “fat girl” with only the other outcasts for friends.

………….

I just consulted the BMI calculator 115 lbs, 5′ = BMI 22.5– Well within the normal range. Sigh.