I know “fat” is a complicated, triggering word—it is for me, too. I chide myself when I say it in front of my children or in reference to the appearance of myself or others. But, that doesn’t stop the word from running through my head sometimes when I look at a mirror or see a picture of myself. It’s also a sticky kind of word.
Nursing school was my first wake up call to understanding the function of food and movement and balance for a healthy metabolism. Science told me that I could not starve my body into submission forever and that the longterm effect would be ruining the memory of my metabolism and thus my ability to have a healthy body. It was over those years that I decided diets were not healthy for me.
In 2011, our 13-month-old son had an anaphylactic reaction to milk. Further testing would determine that he was severely allergic to all nuts, dairy, and eggs. I recall walking out of the appointment overwhelmed and discouraged. Food, the means by which we provide physical sustenance for our bodies, just became one of the greatest dangers to my child’s life.