I just returned from a nostalgic trip to Freeport. It was here 20 years ago when I began to come out of the denial of thinking that someday soon I could control my eating, and that I “wasn’t that fat, just a little overweight.” Twenty years ago, I remember arriving at the hotel in Freeport, so very excited that I would have time and money to buy a whole new wardrobe of clothes. I was teaching middle school at that time, and badly in need of outfits that would look professional and fit my body without strangling me or having

As soon as my twin baby girls were big enough to eat bite-sized food with their fingers, but before they could talk, they developed that peculiar toddler tendency of urgently thrusting food up to my mouth and offering to feed it to me. My refrains of, “No, you eat it,” and, “No thank you,” were starting to wear thin. I was in danger of feeling sorry for myself for continually having to rebuff their adorable, well-meaning efforts to share food with me and connect in that way. One day God graced me with a solution that completely reframed the meaning

Since age 14, I’ve gained and lost 20 to 25 pounds many times, always having a closet of clothes ranging in size from skinny jeans to fat pants. My love of sweets and junk food began early, but I was an active kid and ate those things in moderation. Our pantry and freezer looked like a convenience store, with packaged goodies lining the shelf at all times. We grew up eating three square meals made by my mom, and we always had dessert. My parents got divorced when I was in junior high school, and in one semester, my grades