Several years ago, I lost 30 kilograms and managed to keep it off.
Until now. I’ve gained back about eight kilograms.
For some people, that’s enough to send them running for the nearest batch of diet pills or set of the latest “tiny tush” infomercial DVDs.
However, contrary to the conclusions people jump to about my regained weight, imagining that it must be because I’ve started devouring entire sleeves of chocolate chip cookies in one sitting again in spite of myself, this process was intentional.
Yes, you read that correctly: I wanted to put on more weight. In fact, my health depended on it.
I initially lost my weight throughout 2006 and 2007. By August of 2007, I was svelte and often referred to as a “Skinny Minnie.” At a size six, I certainly was. This experience left me with tonnes of energy and a newfound confidence.
However, it also left me with a desire to take things a bit too far, and I ultimately ended up losing even more than my initial 30 kilos. By my own doing, body image and eating-disordered tendencies developed through the years. At one point, a pork chop and an apple (maybe some popcorn) would be my food intake for an entire day.
But I was 1) thinner than I had ever been, and 2) determined not to gain any weight back… so the sacrifices seemed appropriate.
Watch: Meghan Ramsay on the effects of poor body image. (Post continues after video.)
At my lowest, I hit a number I felt was in sync with my physical aspirations: orderly, structured, memorable, and, in my mind, perfect.
But a foggy mind and a body that became fatigued just from getting out of bed told me enough was enough. Putting on 10+ kilograms was necessary.