A “brief” history

Contrary to whatever indicators on previous posts that might suggest I cannot be brief about anything, I will actually endeavor to be brief on how I got to be the size I am today.

So, without further ado…

The reasons I am obese are:

  • poor eating habits
  • lack of exercise





How’s that?


There now, Susan T…see, I haven’t lost that unique sarcasm that is Dani. 🙂

Okay to elaborate a little bit more. I promise. Just a bit.

There are a lot of contributing factors as to why I’ve gotten to the size I’m at, but the bottom line is frankly the two points I listed above. They are the main reasons, yes, but there are underlying reasons have all contributed in this situation. But hear me now, I’m not using any of them as excuses. They are merely some potential contributors to the overall picture.

On December 27, 1977 when I was 11 years old, my dad Gerry died suddenly of a heart attack. I don’t remember a lot about that time period but I remember the devastation that was felt. Not just by me, but by my mom too. And to some lesser degree, all of our family and friends who loved and adored him.

About the same time, I was hitting puberty, which we all know is a bitch to begin with but add on the immense feelings of loss, abandonment (though I’m well aware he didn’t intentionally leave us) and over-all despair – well that bitch came and brought some friends.

Now, I am in now way suggesting that my childhood wasn’t good. It had more good than bad. In fact, the only bad I really remember was my dad’s passing. Though we can all admit that his loss was pretty fucking big. Afterwards it was just my mom and I. She struggled in her own ways I’m sure and yet she did whatever she had to do to ensure that I would be okay. I’ve never forgotten that and I never will.

But no matter how much anyone wanted to help, the reality is that nearly 40 years later, his death is still having a profound impact on my life. It really only came to the surface about 6 years ago. For most of this time I had it in my head that I was okay. His death was a long time ago. Any pain I was suffering now couldn’t be a result of that. Could it?

But it was. It was an iceberg really. Just that 90% lying just under the surface. Waiting to flip over. And flip it did.

But I digress…

I wasn’t born overweight. And throughout my childhood I really wasn’t overweight.

216393_1031250715333_545110_n This is the pic I believe my dad used to carry of me in his wallet.

By about puberty I started being bigger than most of the girls in my school. Maybe even bigger than some of the boys. I couldn’t even fit into regular size volleyball shorts in grades 7 and 8 when I played (which was post losing my dad).

In highschool in Grade 9 I had to wear a school uniform – a skirt. Yeah…me and dresses/skirts go together so well. And I remember being fitted for it and dreading when the best fit for me as an A-line. But with my budding hips (not my boobs though…like what. the. hell.?) the pockets on the A-line would stick out so my mom had to sew them closed.

For a brief moment later in high school, while still over-weight, I was losing it. I madly loved an Italian boy named Dino, my best friend Paula and I were walking to and from school every day which was a 40 minute walk one way, and it was noticeable with that A-line spinning around my hips like a hula-hoop. Okay so maybe not that fast but you get the picture.

207858_1031250755334_3453517_n Graduation 1984 – what I wouldn’t give to have those cheekbones again and not my chipmunk ones now. 😛

The problem was that I did nothing further to actually continue to lose weight and keep it off. I had the chance and didn’t take it. I still ate way too much junk food, movie popcorn and Burger King – staples for most of my friends every weekend. I was even riding my bike a lot but it seemed looking back at it that it never occurred to me – really – that I was so badly out of shape.

After high school things just got worse because I wasn’t walking with Paula anymore (she was a grade behind me), I was going to college or working, and well…the pounds after that just kept piling on.

Now there are many people in my family that have some weight issues. None as badly as me but it seems that weight is a problem on both sides of my family tree. So yes, genetics is one of the contributing factors, but like I said above, it’s not to be used as an excuse because it’s not the only reason or the main reason.

By the time I was married “late” in my life (at that point) I was obese. During my marriage I expect that I likely gained another 60-80 pounds. My (now-ex) husband was also obese and we simply enabled each other. I’m not even going to blame him for that weight gain because as I’ve said before – how I am today is strictly all on me.

So here I am, 38 years later and I’m trying my damnest to fix myself, rid myself of many, many years of bad habits and negative thoughts – and just come out on the other size – healthy and alive.

And to do that I need to do what now?

giphy (1) Thank you Ian Somerhalder…you beautiful man.

So no excuses. Just actions. Lots and lots of actions.

And that iceberg flip I mentioned above…more on that in a later post.

Have I bored you all yet?

Blessings to all.


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