Your Curvy Sisters

I’ve been battling with this for quite some time now and, I’m ready to put all of my emotions out there and hopefully gain some connection to those who’ve been through something like this. My name is Briana, I’m 5’6” and I weigh 274 pounds.

When I was 6, my mother put me on my first official diet and, from then on, it’s been an uphill battle of fighting what seems to be the inevitable. It’s a constant cycle of her finding a new diet (this time it’ll be easier Briana! Just put the effort forth), giving me a big and grandiose speech about how we’re going to work ‘together’ to lose the weight, both of us using the new program for a few months, her deciding that she’s done and binge eating, and then me following in her footsteps because I have no choice since she stops buying the diet food. In between all of this my mother always makes comments about my weight, my looks, my ‘laziness’, and my dedication. And it hurts.

I’ve self harmed for about the past four year because I just could never, and really I still can’t, accept the idea that I’m okay the way I am. Mostly because I’ve never been told by my mother that I’m fine the way I am. It’s always, “Your eyes are so beautiful, but your cheeks are a little round.” or, “Don’t worry we’ll get the weight off before Prom so you can look beautiful in your dress.”, and finally “You’re gorgeous Briana! You just need to lose some weight and you’ll be happy.”

I’ve struggled through depression, anxiety, OCD, and insomnia for years now and I’ve kept it all bottled inside of me until around November. I walked up to my mother and showed her my scars, my cuts, and my pain. I refrained from telling her about my mini-battle with bulimia because I didn’t think she could handle it and I was able to overcome that myself a few years prior. While she was upset, of course, she couldn’t risk pointing the blame to herself. I told her that I hate myself, I told her that I purposefully walk certain ways so I don’t accidentally see my reflection, I told her that I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin that it doesn’t even feel like me.

Her reaction was, “Obviously this is because of your weight! We’re starting a new diet tomorrow.” And thus, the cycle started again. I’ve been suffering in silence for so long and while I definitely want to lose weight, I don’t want to do it for these reasons. It feels wrong to force this upon myself when I’m still battling so many other demons and I’m terrified that if I do manage to shed some pounds it’ll send me into a horrible remission. I never feel like I’m good enough for her and it’s reached it’s boiling point.

I’m not afraid to say this, I hate my mother. I love her because I have too but, I hate her for what she’s done. I hate her because I can’t even tell her about any of this because she’ll spiral out of control and put the blame on me while simultaneously making it about her. This has all come to a head in the past month and I’m doing my best to skate by. I’m going to college in a year so, hopefully I can manage. I’m still on the diet and I can already feel a sort of remission beginning, and not because I want it. Because my body is so preconditioned to punishing itself when these things occur. I’ve lost my appetite completely, I’ve been taking a surplus of vitamins and pills to upset my stomach so I don’t want to eat, and I only consume anything at dinner because my parents are both around.

A majority of this submission was to vent, as well as finally lay all of my cards out on the table and hopefully finds someone that understands me. My mother always asks me who my hero is and she scolds me when I don’t say it’s her. But how could she be my hero when one of my only goals in life is too never become her? So my question, pulled away from all of this emotion is, When does it stop becoming motherly love and start becoming bullying?