My Childhood

I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out when my food issues started. If it was a person or a situation that started me off down the path of over-eating but for the life of me I just can’t figure it out. Oh believe me I have tried, but nothing.

I have two amazing and loving parents and three great younger sisters. (It was just weird to type “younger sisters”. Two of them are taller than me and all four of us are great friends and get along so well, I forget sometimes we range in ages over a span of ten years.) We had a great home growing up, lots of great experiences, we had what we needed and never went without food. We were really blessed. We didn’t eat out much and my mom was a great cook and cooked for us most nights, like I said, I was really blessed.

But I do have some memories of food from my childhood, some that make me feel a little embarrassed to share. I remember sneaking into the fridge and eating leftover macaroni and cheese from the container cold. Yes you read that right, COLD. Ewww, that lovely blue box isn’t my favorite now even when it is warm but cold? What was I thinking?!? I also remember we had tan Tupperware cups from my mom’s glory days of selling Tupperware. They were skinnier and taller and I would fill them up with cereal and milk and sneak them to my room to eat. I also knew where my mom hid the candy, it was in her closet on the right side underneath the clothes that were hanging, just sitting back under there on the floor. I don’t remember how many times I got caught because my mom would notice candy was missing, but that didn’t stop me. I kept on sneaking it. Laffy Taffy, I loved when she bought the big container of those from Costco. Remember when they used to be big squares? Not the skinny rectangles they are now, still good but they used to be so much better!


I have memories that still break my heart a little bit, even after all these years. Not really because they still hurt me but I still remember all too well the girl that was hurt. Memories such as sixth grade where I was taller and bigger than everyone by a long shot. A group of girls who I thought were my friends came over to me on recess, by the big tires, and told me they couldn’t be my friends anymore because I was too “tall”. That hurt. And I remember basketball games where we would be doing our warm up and boys from the opposing school that were on the front couple of rows near us, I would hear them talking about me and my size and my uniform. That hurt. I wish I could go back and tell that girl that it would be ok. That what they said or thought didn’t matter in the long run. That one day she would figure it all out and she would be happy and content with who she is. I would wipe those tears away and just hug her. Those situations weren’t what caused my over eating, I had been doing it long before then, but they definitely didn’t help the situation.


My family was active. We played outside all the time, rode bikes, roller skated. My parents took us to the park and we would throw around our green and black Nerf football or shoot hoops with my dad. I was a clogger for a couple of years and had practice for that at least once a week. When I was in 6th grade I started playing basketball and in Junior High started playing volleyball. From my memory I enjoyed being active, it wasn’t something forced upon me. I just can’t figure it out.


I don’t know if this blog is the answer to helping me figure that out and then maybe this journey, this healing process, will have a little bit that is complete? I know it is a never ending journey but maybe I can find some answers. Only time will tell…



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