hey all! i'm doing an article on diets and i'm looking for stories, both good and bad. if you think you can help me, please e-mail me at ******. i'd love to hear from you! ttyl!

Here's my story:

When I was nine years old, in the fifth grade, and boy named Thomas wrote "moo" all over my yearbook. I was barely 4'10" and I weighed over 100 pounds. Doesn't sound like much, but when every other girl in the class is 60-80 pounds, it definitly is something people noticed. It was back then, at the sad age of nine that I began to worry about my weight and when my self esteem began to plummet. In eighth grade, a popular girl who I was semi-friends with noticed my cellulite and started making fun of me, calling me "cottage cheese thighs" - a nickname that a lot of the guys I thought were 'hot' also called me. Needless to say, I didn't stay semi-friends with any of them. When I was in ninth grade, I joined my High School's Swim Team - and I was really good. Looked like my thunder thighs actually were worth something! But my self-esteem was still low - I weighed 145 pounds when everyone else weighed 110. In tenth grade I developed an eating disorder - I wouldn't eat more than 200 calories a day while swimming (varsity level) about 1.5 miles a day. If I ate too much, I'd make myself throw up. I even considered taking the drug "speed" to lose weight (I never did though!). I hated my life, and I began cutting myself to ... well I guess you could say to show my inner pain on the outside of my body. My mom and dad noticed, but didn't say anything. I eventually just got sick of not eating and slicing myself with my razor blades while I took a bath, so I just stopped. No outside help, no self-help books, no counselors. I just got sick of it! When I graduated from high school, I weighed 155 pounds - looking back now, I realize what a great body I had. Then I went off to college. Good Lord, what a mistake I made there! I not only put on the Famous Freshman Fifteen, I also got pregnant out of wedlock. By the end of my pregnancy, I weighed 213 pounds, which was my all-time high. I hated myself. I cried every day. I wished for a miracle. Then, when my son was about six months old, and I still hadn't lost a pound since giving birth, I decided that the only person who can make me happy is ME. The only miracle I will ever see is by my own hand. I decided I must be the change I wish to see in myself - and I stopped drinking soda, stopped eating bread and I began an Atkins regiment (except I eat lots of veggies!). Now, here I am 26 pounds lighter (and losing more by the day), loving life and enjoying nearly fitting into my old high school clothes.

I guess the moral of the story is to take your life into your own hands. No amount of surgery, starving yourself, shoving fingers down your throat, or diet pills will make you feel better about yourself. Only you can be your own miracle.





I hope that's what you were looking for? Let me know.

that was beautiful and true. You're so right and that was exactly what i needed to hear today. thank you for the motivation.