What behaviour/attitude led you down the fat path?

For me it's just the voice inside myself that tells me that no matter what - I will Fail again...

I knew the risks of being morbidly obese, but I was just in denial that those things would happen to me.

Even to gain 30lb I told myself a lot of excuses. I told myself it was normal with age, with having a baby, with stress, whatever. But then I realised that, with a waist two sizes bigger than my hips, jeans were never going to fit, so I'd have to lose weight to ever wear jeans again. Maybe if I'd expanded more uniformaly I would have continued to gain...

I'm new here, but for myself, it's always been habits basically. I found myself eating even when I wasn't hungry or justifying overeating by saying I'd go run, then not doing anything active (or when I did active things, it just killed me). It's really all about habits. 14 little days of working = new habits. It doesn't take a radical change. It sounds like he really just likes food a lot - I did too, and convinced myself that the fast food, or fried foods, etc.. What really also helps in terms of competitiveness is other people you know trying to lose weight, and for me, playing recreational sports. Have him come out and play basketball or tennis or something like that.

I was a manager for awhile, always going to meetings, with food in my hand, or drinking lots of soda, and then planting down at a desk for the remainder of the day. I'd get home to supper....be exhausted and sleep...I never excercised...I jumped 20 lbs in a single month.....then my Dr gave me the speech about living past 60...... I caught on...I've been worlking at it since

I can only speak for myself. I am an introvert and like nothing better than curling up with a good book. Exercise - especially team sports - turn me right off. I was always thin up until I got pregnant. The day I found out I was pregnant I quit smoking cold turkey, plus I had a sedentary job. Put all those together and you're looking at weight gain.

I added even more weight when I had my second child. The fact that I was working full time and was out of the house a few nights a week for meetings meant little time to think about exercise. The weight gain just builds. We humans are very good about fooling ourselves. I really believe we can indulge in our favourite foods every now and again without worry - but it's interesting how often "now and again" can become. Plus we don't think we really eat all that much.

There comes a day when we just say "Enough" and then we're ready to make a change. It's different for everyone, but that person has to realize it. No one else can do it for them.

My problems started when I was in grade school. My mom had a lot of mental health problems that kept her from working and forced us to live on state aid. On top of that, she had this weird fear of growing old. She kept young friends, dated as much as possible, was obsessed with her weight, her skin, and her hair and made a lot of comments about my weight growing up. We didn't have a lot of food in the house ever because most of the state assistance went to buying food for when she had friends over.

Since many nights we would go without food to help us "manage" our weight or because there was no money left, I developed very bad habits. I got free lunch at school and would eat as much food as my free lunch allowed. When I'd go to my grandparents or on my nights at my dad's house I'd eat everything they put in front of me and usually raided the fridge for more when they weren't looking. Even after I moved in with my dad in high school and she later passed away, I still had these binging habits. When I got a job and discovered how awesome eating out was, things got worse.

It's always been a struggle to maintain a healthy relationship with food. The idea of leaving something on the plate used to make me panic. I didn't want to stop eating. My problem was never snacking, candy,or desert. It was always portion control and knowing when to accept feeling full and there'd still be food tomorrow.

Some of those issues still linger, but really, now I'm just undoing a lot of damage. I've learned to be ok with leaving one final bite on my plate. I love food still though. LOVE food. I love ethnic food and trying new things and discovering new flavors. I'm learning to find an appropriate middle ground. And of course, once you're big, the working out part is so much harder. It's much easier to not go to the gym than to go to the gym when everything you do there hurts.

That's my story. My tipping point came last year when my husband (who is not very overweight at all, but carries what weight he does have in his stomach) was diagnosed with type II diabetes. I could stand to lose 170 lbs and he's the one that got sick. I was fat, but healthy otherwise. I don't want to be sick. I don't want to break my body irrevocably. And my choices, my food and activities, directly effect him. He needed to be healthy right NOW and I didn't have much longer to let things slide. Fortunately our changes have slimmed me down and he has been able to stop all medications but 1 and we're very close to him not needing that anymore either.

Food was always very limited at my house, my parents limited everything, put small portions on our plates. They even limited the amount of tea we got for dinner. As a treat we got 1 piece of chocolate maybe once a week, I always had the craving for more. The moment I moved out and bought my own food I ate whatever I wanted to fill these desires, that got me my first 15 kilos of extra weight.

Later on I noticed I am an emotional eater. Stress made me eat sweet, lots of sweet. I always felt better after that up to a certain point. I become sugar addicted. At that point I had 3 children, going for the fourth. I didn´t like myself anymore. I had ups and downs, weight loss, weight gains, excessive exercise, no exercise at all... I also develpoed a depression, big changing point in my life.

After my dads death in 2009 I decided to do something against it. I was at his funeral and it came to me, that I only have one life. Slowly but steady I looked for methods to break that vicious circle. I avoided contact with people that weren´t good for me, that brought me down, stressed me.
I feel better with that now and developed other methods to handle stress. Now I am at a point that I enjoy. I like myself, I do things I want to do, I don´t stress myself anymore for small things that dont count. Some chocolate in the evening does not freak me out anymore, I know there will be another day with another exercise and I enjoy it and feel good.

I think it was an accumulation of many different types of attitudes and behaviours which got me to the point of being FAT.
Laziness - it was easier to eat out than to cook.
Binge eating - if a little tasted good, then more tasted better - I didn't know when to stop.
Emotional eating - trying to fill the empty void with food didn't work, but it took me years to realise that.
Denial - I think I deep down KNEW what I was eating wasn't good and that I was gaining weight, but it was much easier to blame it on pregnancy or work stress than to just stand up, face it and take responsibility.
My turning point was the day in the change rooms that a size 16 wouldn't fit. I looked, really LOOKED, at myself in the change room mirror and had a melt down. That was it. There was no going back.
I sobbed all the way home and then took a deep breath and started moving forward. I've never looked back, and even though I've had the occasional few months when I let things slip and forget to put ME first, I now have the tools and motivation to be able to remedy the gain and get back on track.
From 200's down to 130's.
I truly believe that a recovering FAT person is like a recovering alcoholic. Never truly cured, but constantly taking pro-active steps further away from the destructive behaviours.

Moving back in with my boyfriend and allowing him to turn me into Betty Crocker... That and 6 cups of soda a day. I love food but after this I shall not ever abuse it again lol my Betty Crocker days are over -_0 my breaking point was when a photo was taken of me on my birthday with a friend. Need less to say as much as I was In denial that photo slapped me out of it I cried for a week straight.. He mde me look like I ate doughnuts for a living.. after loathing in self pity I got on my old mountain bike and vowed to ride that b*tch out until the wheels fall off ❤ lol