Fat and Family Stories

Hi, everyone!  I've got a couple of stories I wanted to share with you.

Comments are welcome, but please keep everything supportive.  Also, all comments are subject to moderation, so bear with me if it takes me a bit to get your comment approved.

I grew up in the sole custody of a beautiful but very mean mother who used to lock up the food in our house because she was so sure I was overeating. (I wasn't; I simply inherited my father's fat genes.)

My mother and siblings, who were all thin and good-looking, treated me like such shit that I've had to cut off contact with all but one of them completely. The only one who didn't abuse me is the one I have contact with. 

It's scary to live a life without any family support, but I wouldn't have had that anyway even if they were still in my life. I know it's impacted my life negatively in a number of ways: I have major depression at a disabling intensity and I'm sure much of the cause was my abusive childhood.

it's prevented me from being able to finish school, getting a decent job, getting my own place. My life is better without them, and I know if I ever went back they'd simply revert to their old ways. I don't miss them, but I do miss having supportive people around me because that's something I never had.

I don't have any advice for anyone else except to say that it's okay to walk away from abusive people, no matter how it may shock others. People from happier homes just don't understand.

 I've been fat since I was 14, which was 35 years ago. Till the day she died (5 years ago) my mum hated my extra weight. She told me every day of my life, (even before I was fat) that I was "fat, useless, stupid, lazy, good for nothing" - and that I'd be dead before I was 25.

She would ridicule me in front of my siblings, "jokingly" tell people (friends and strangers) that if anyone upset me "She'll sit on you" and generally made my whole life miserable. I definitely think I got bigger as a direct result of this.

The only part of my life she couldn't control (when I was younger) was what went in my mouth. It was an unconscious act of rebellion every time I sat down to eat. She told me repeatedly that she didn't love me, and no-one ever would - because "who could love a fat, disgusting lump like you?" It took a long time for me to realise that she was very, very wrong.

Thank you for sharing your stories.  It means a lot to me and I know it will mean a lot to others.  

I'm still taking stories about fatness within families.  I may add line breaks for readability, but otherwise I won't edit your words.  Please feel free to get in touch.