Addicts and alcoholics use the phrase “reaching bottom” to describe the lowest point of a downward spiral where there’s no where to go but up mentally and physically.
That word up there? I made it up. So yeah, I’m trying to make fetch happen.
But before I go further, let me clear something up. I will never use the word ‘fat’ to describe anyone but myself. Beauty is a subjective term and don’t let anyone tell you there are specific measurements or pounds that constitute “good looks.” Fat shaming is wrong. But my philosophy is if I’m unhappy with something in my life, I’m going to do something about it – not make excuses. How you handle your happiness or unhappiness is up to you.
Anyway, two events in my life have contributed to the mindset that I have today.
In 2004, my husband appeared on a reality television show called Extreme Makeover. This was the plastic surgery show – not Home Edition. If you can manage to find a way to stream it online, you’ll see the physical shape I was in then. I was about 170 pounds, smoking, drinking heavily, eating fast food – basically having a good ol’ time skipping down the road to Frumpville.
When ABC finished filming for the show and David returned home, he was a changed man inside and out.
I think he considered it a positive experience, despite the horribly painful recovery involved. I was happy for David, but his dramatic transformation made me acutely aware of how unhappy I was with my own appearance.
Fast-forward four years. I was singing in a hard rock band called Sachi, booked for a show at Hollywood’s Key Club.
We opened for a singer named Joey Belladonna, the frontman for 1980s thrash metal
group Anthrax. I met Joey backstage and took some photos with him. It should have been one of the proudest moments of my life, meeting one of my heroes. But the pictures tell a different story.
In my eyes, I was FAT. And I don’t think I’m being shallow and subjective here. Someone who is 170 pounds and 5-feet-7 inches tall has a BMI that is considered overweight. I had no business wearing leather given the extra baggage that I was carrying around. And thank God the club was slow that night because people would have had to pay to watch me up on that stage. I probably should have paid THEM. I have a hard time looking at photos from that show. It is painful for me.
I can say with absolute certainty that I use those two points in my life as a barometer. It’s a gauge telling me where I DON’T want to go ever again.
I’ve made peace with my former self. Even though I cringe looking at those photos, I’ve come to accept that I can’t change the past. I sure as hell can make my mark on the present and future though. You better believe I’m going to be all over that.
What memories have influenced your current approach to health and fitness?