Last night, I stood on the dance floor in three inch, gold sequined heels, and a size four gold lamé ballgown. I danced the night away; I shimmied, stepped, and sashayed under the disco lights, amongst men and women who knew me at my worst, and loved me all the way to my best life.

The dance floor was surrounded by tables filled with groups of chatting FA fellows. I spotted cups of ice water here and there, but no platters of hors d’oeuvres, no mixed drinks or wine glasses, and no dessert menus. There was simply a room full of people enjoying life and strutting their stuff in right-sized bodies. This is my life today.

Ten years ago most of my world was contained within the four walls of my bedroom. When I was not at work my bed became my island where I beached myself, surrounded by cellophane bags and boxes of junk food purchased from the corner store. Most weeks, I came home on Friday night, crawled into bed, and ate until Monday morning. The food became my most intimate relationship, and the television was my only link to outside. Any phone calls were sure to be a wrong number, or someone selling something I neither wanted nor needed. I ate my way up to 340 pounds (154kg) and did not see a reason to keep living that way, but I was too afraid not to live. 

Over the years, the food piles on my bed grew bigger, and my life got smaller and darker.

FA gave me friends when I didn’t know how to be one and loved me until I could finally believe I was lovable. My world is not dark today. It’s shiny and gold like my sequin shoes, and I have a reason to dance.