NeemsDefining the Fat!
March 7th 2008 12:06
I like to think of life as a series of defining moments. As we age and look back on our years, we all have those significant instances where something happened or someone said something to us where it forever changed our lives or put us onto a path we never thought we would venture upon. These could be good or not so good.
So the other day, I was bored, watching re-runs of anything mindless on TV and I got to thinking of some of the important things that have happened in my life. It was a trip down memory lane that proved a bit painful and embarrassing but also provided a few giggles and a little constructive insight. So I thought, let’s pen one of these thoughts and make them public!
I think I was about 15 or 16 years old when my mother sat me down, and told me, quite bluntly and in a way only a mother who truly loves you can - “You are really fat,” she said. “And you are getting fatter. This might not trouble you so much now, but as you get older it will be harder to break your eating habits and it’s simply not healthy an it's bad for your heart- time to do something about it!”
It probably wasn't the best way to phrase it, and I guess I am lucky it scarred me less than it could have. But when your own mother, who loves you no matter what kind of cretin you sometimes can be tells you that you are borderline obese-that hits home like a punch to your blubbery gut.
Food was my wicked escape from my time in high school which wasn’t entirely pleasant. (Now of course it’s retail therapy but that’s another post).
I didn’t just eat a lot, my dad on more than one occasion had to physically wrestle the food off the table before this gluttonous daughter of his demolished it like it was my last supper. This remains a delightfully entertaining memory for my brother to this day.
But from the time my mother uttered those words, gone were the meals I routinely consumed ravenously between breakfast and lunch, and lunch and dinner. And also banished were the meals between those periods. Frantic exercise took the place of afternoons spent digesting packet after packet of smith crisps and coke. Picnic bars, cookies and fried spring rolls were passed over at the supermarket- any agony I felt was kept silent by the promise of a new me.
And while it didn't do as much as I had hoped for my tragic low self-esteem- (here began a whole new battle) getting down to my ideal weight made me feel more confident with a hell of a lot more energy and a more positive outlook on life. At sixteen years old- this couldn't have come at a better time.
And although I still sometimes indulge in deliciously naughty cravings, I've developed a terrific desire to stay fit and salads and good food are items in the supermarket I enjoy tremendously.
So to my beautiful mum, I say a huge thank you for being wise enough-albeit a bit blunt- to kick me into shape!
Neema Mohan, March 7th, 2008- ©
So the other day, I was bored, watching re-runs of anything mindless on TV and I got to thinking of some of the important things that have happened in my life. It was a trip down memory lane that proved a bit painful and embarrassing but also provided a few giggles and a little constructive insight. So I thought, let’s pen one of these thoughts and make them public!
I think I was about 15 or 16 years old when my mother sat me down, and told me, quite bluntly and in a way only a mother who truly loves you can - “You are really fat,” she said. “And you are getting fatter. This might not trouble you so much now, but as you get older it will be harder to break your eating habits and it’s simply not healthy an it's bad for your heart- time to do something about it!”
It probably wasn't the best way to phrase it, and I guess I am lucky it scarred me less than it could have. But when your own mother, who loves you no matter what kind of cretin you sometimes can be tells you that you are borderline obese-that hits home like a punch to your blubbery gut.
Food was my wicked escape from my time in high school which wasn’t entirely pleasant. (Now of course it’s retail therapy but that’s another post).
I didn’t just eat a lot, my dad on more than one occasion had to physically wrestle the food off the table before this gluttonous daughter of his demolished it like it was my last supper. This remains a delightfully entertaining memory for my brother to this day.
But from the time my mother uttered those words, gone were the meals I routinely consumed ravenously between breakfast and lunch, and lunch and dinner. And also banished were the meals between those periods. Frantic exercise took the place of afternoons spent digesting packet after packet of smith crisps and coke. Picnic bars, cookies and fried spring rolls were passed over at the supermarket- any agony I felt was kept silent by the promise of a new me.
And while it didn't do as much as I had hoped for my tragic low self-esteem- (here began a whole new battle) getting down to my ideal weight made me feel more confident with a hell of a lot more energy and a more positive outlook on life. At sixteen years old- this couldn't have come at a better time.
And although I still sometimes indulge in deliciously naughty cravings, I've developed a terrific desire to stay fit and salads and good food are items in the supermarket I enjoy tremendously.
So to my beautiful mum, I say a huge thank you for being wise enough-albeit a bit blunt- to kick me into shape!
Neema Mohan, March 7th, 2008- ©
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