All I can remember right before my heart surgery was my mom shouting “Heather Mae! Stop putting your Barbie’s in the refrigerator.” Your probably wondering why the heck she would be putting the Barbie’s in the fridge. SHES CRAZY…TAKE A PILL. However, it wasn’t that simple, when I was 5 years old the doctors informed my parents that I had a rare defect that causes an extra piece of skin grow over my heart and block my blood from getting to my other organs. As the tears slowing fell from my mother’s face. She knew the journey had just begun. The last day at the hospital I vaguely remember my doctor coming into the room to say his goodbyes but little did I know he had one last piece of information left to inform my parents. “Don & Abby, Heather is doing extremely well. I am completely secure that going home is the right decision. There is just one last thing I wanted to inform you, when children are sick especially in Heather’s case. Her heart was working so hard to keep the blood flowing and her body functioning correctly that she ate to give her body nutrients  to make her feel better; however Heather is going  to recover just fine, but  you need to watch her eating habits. It is not a good idea to continue accepting her eating habitats the way it was because she was sick. That could potently lead to obesity and cause her heart to work harder.  I remember glancing at my mother during the conversation with the doctor and for a short second I saw a little tear fall from her cheek as she glanced back at me. I think at that moment  she finally realized that all the things I was going through wasn’t because I was crazy or just a child needing time to grow up I was sick. At that point, I think my mother had lost all the strength to teach me between right and wrong or good and bad habitats and focused on making sure I always had a smile on my face by feeding me exactly what I wanted instead of controlling how I ate.  Basically, that is why my life has led me to writing to you. My entire life has been about me attempting to lose weight or complaining about always being the larger girl of the group; however I can’t point the complete blame on my mother. She was doing what any other mother would do when her child has been sick. I had plenty of opporunites to change my eating habitats. It was me making the determine factor at the end of the day…I didn’t need to lose weight. This is me. If you don’t like it then walk away. The good news is I wasn’t your average overweight teenager. I have tons of confidences and pride in who I was. At least as far as everyone else knew. In my mind, my largest struggle was me not being able to buy what my friends could buy or not having the opportunity to walk into any clothing store and buy and fit whatever I wanted.  I remember seeing other larger girls and thinking to myself why are they wearing those grandma clothes there has to be something out there for the FASHIONISTAs PLUS’s of the world. So, instead of following the path of other low self-esteem overweight teenage girls I was determined to be one of the few Plus Size girls to make the skinny girls glanced down at their outfit in envy of what I had on. No matter what the size on the tag was. I didn’t need society to tell me that just because I was large I couldn’t be in charge of what I look liked and how much confidence I had. I have thrived on being that pretty big girl with the cutest clothes. I ended on telling myself “Go ahead heather eat that cheeseburger. Honey, you’re big and beautiful let the world know it.” It didn’t matter that I was limited to where I could shop and find clothes cute enough to rock. Shyt, my nails and hair was always done to the top of the scale. It the shirt was just average the accessories were there. Basically, I focused so much on proving to everyone around me that you can be big and beautiful and still look the cutest in the room. I failed to watch my weight and the size I was reaching. In 2009, I was a size 24 at the age of 21 with more confidence than a model walking down the New York Runway. It took a video of me at my sister’s birthday to finally realize exactly what I have become. I am no longer that big fashionista. I was a short morbid obese girl that needed a reality check. I fought so hard to prove to society that a big girl could be a beautiful fashionista that I caused myself to be blinded by what lead me to what I was now a girl with a weight problem. On Dec 4th, 2009, I made a choice to change the girl that once looked at the image in the mirror as a beautiful woman. I decided on that day that my size was a choice not my destiny. It was time to get off my ass and stop making excuses as to why I am the size I am and change it. I am proud to say as of January 25, 2010 I have officially lost 30 lbs and I will continue to reach for my goal; however, the model confidence I was so proud to project off of others went from 110% to 0. Everyday will continue to be a struggle to reach my weight loss goal. I just want to get back to being proud of who I am and what outfit I have on, but I can’t. I have become so consumed in losing this weight. I have lost myself and I have no map. I don’t know how to begin to build the confidence in myself when I am still trying to lose the weight I once was so proud to have. I used to live by the motto “If you look good, you feel good.” If I can’t look in the mirror because I am ashamed of what I have became even after losing 30 lbs. How am I ever supposed to be proud of who I am becoming? I need help. I need someone to hand me a map again. My best days were me in a new outfit proving to the world that just because I got curves doesn’t mean I can’t be beautiful. “Love me, Hate me But Shyt Dats Me!”

Heather Hays