I am struggling with something that feels shameful. I grew up in a family culture that judged appearances in general, and weight in particular. Most of the women in the family are about 5 ft tall and 100lbs. I am not. Most of them have a wonderful fashion sense, and seem to always look pulled together and stylish. I do not.

Since about 6th grade, when I started paying attention to such things, I have felt like a fat amazon. I grew to my full height (only 5'5") earlier than my friends, and I have always been curvy, but when I look back at pictures of myself, I have been FAR from overweight until just the past few post-menopausal years.

But when you outgrow your mom's clothes at age 12 it's hard to feel 'normal'. Ever.

I didn't feel quite pretty or normal even when I could run ultra-marathons every month, ride my bike 100 miles at a time, or race in triathlons.

My sister, mother and I even made a semi-joking pact to shoot each other if any of us ever ended up needing polyester Walmart pants. Today I am pushing a size 14 to it's limits, surely not worthy of living a happy life at this size.

My mom sighed last week, because she had some beautiful clothing she no longer needed, and was sad that she couldn't give it to me. I made a joke about how I'd take all the extra purses she had but nothing else would fit, and I felt unhappy with myself again.

And here I am at age 54, and now truly overweight (175lbs) and still so ashamed and JUDGEMENTAL about myself that I am almost paralyzed to create any healthy changes. I feel doomed to the middle aged fat belly I've acquired, and gaze my eyes downward when I go to family gatherings so I can't see what I assume are the 'What happened to her?!?!?!' glances of people who LOVE ME.  And I assume that they are thinking this because this is how we talked about others...my whole life.

I don't buy cute clothes, because why should overweight people try to look nice, it's an impossible feat so I stay in tshirts and yoga pants - stretch baby stretch that fabric.

I look at pictures of friends on Facebook, especially those who are more curvy, and I see them in cute clothes with big smiles and I wonder HOW could I be happy in my own skin, too. Where is the joy to be had? How do I get that? Why is it that 20-30 pounds is the difference between my enjoyment in life and feeling like I need to hide? I understand the crazy thinking, but I'm stuck in it.

I have started and failed at 'healthy eating' and 'exercise plans' so many times these past years. I end up feeling helpless and hopeless, and resign myself to a 'screw it all' attitude. I've paid for plans, meditated, done yoga, and hired a personal life coach, and still today I am isolated and sad because I weigh more than I think I should, and move less than I think I should. I am a judger, and I judge myself most harshly.

If I could reach in and solder a few connections and re-wire my brain, I would.  But for today, I am just documenting this strange, sad place I find myself in.  Acceptance is the first step towards recovery, right?