I keep trying to hold back tears. It has been an emotional few days.

I shared in my ten year high school reunion last night, and I felt completely elated. These are moments and feelings to cherish. There were people I had not seen in ten years; there were people who had no idea who I was. I felt so proud of my achievements. I felt proud to be in love – with the person I have become, with my partner Matthew, our pets – Parker & Burt Reynolds, and to have felt so deeply connected to my family who are invaluable in my life.

I rummaged through my old room. I found Oprah’s “Make The Connection” – a book I had bought exactly ten years ago at Costco. Oh, the irony! I remembered reading the book in a matter of hours. I laid in my single bed at 17 and I sobbed. I held the pillows to my face to muffle the sounds of my pain. I can only believe that during this time of my life, solace (or anesthetic) existed in lasagna, a cake - in whatever I could find in our pantry and fridge. Costco provided economy format, and I became the living embodiment of bulk. I became good at hiding my eating. If you slice a cake across its median rather than cutting a slice out of it, it seems less obvious. Miraculously, I would eat only low fat meals in public, vow that my genetic makeup was my ruination, and feign bewilderment at continued weight gain. I did not even manage to successfully fool myself. I feared pain, disappointment, love.

“Make The Connection”, page 224: “The truth is that in spite of all of my professional success, I now realize that I’ve spent a lifetime of being afraid. Afraid of not being liked. Afraid of hurting people’s feelings. Afraid of confrontation. Afraid of being used. Afraid of expressing love.”

Smart woman, that Oprah!

Amidst declarations of professional success last night, I felt most proud of the love I feel, I can express, and of the words that Matthew risks sharing with me – “I am so in love with you”. I keep these words closest. I delight at being able to look into his eyes and reciprocate – “I am so in love!” I see the beam in my parent’s eyes. I feed on their pride.

In the end, it’s really not about the food. It’s not about the pounds, but of the weighing down. My weight, my fear, my anchoring to the bottom of an ocean of emotion, the ebb and flow of crash diets – I willingly traded for the ebb and flow of life and its experiences.

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