I was fat all my life. I was a chubby baby with numerous rolls on my legs and everyone loved it. I was the cutest little chubby girl that neighbors loved to pinch and cuddle, but eventually those cute rolls changed for me, and I became the fat girl in elementary school – the kid that got teased both in my family and school. I was basically happy but learned to joke about myself to hide my pain. I'd rather make the jokes and have others laugh with me rather then at me. I ate in secret to hide my pain. I would steal money from my dad's pockets to buy donuts off the bakery truck that would cycle through the neighborhood on Saturday mornings. I'd buy enough treats for a whole family just to hide them and eat them alone.

When I got into my teens, I turned things around and became anorexic. I ate so little and got down to 92 pounds. I hid my condition well and my mother (a nurse) never took notice. She too being heavy took pride in my decreased size and probably indirectly contributed to my eating disorders. This continued until I was 17-years-old when I met my future husband.

He gave me lots of opportunity to eat and accept myself. I started to gain and by two years later when we married, I was up to 115 pounds and climbing. I was a beautiful bride and within 5 months conceived our first child. I took this time of my life to have a license to eat and eat and eat. I gained more than 40 pounds, but after delivery I could see that the weight wasn't baby weight. I then became an obsessive eater and continued to gain until I reached 185. I spent the next few years up and down, on every new diet that came alone – some healthy diets and some very harmful ones.

I continued on this path (rollercoaster) for 16 years. I had four more children during that time and I never achieved any stable healthy weight. My husband thinking he was helping me and having a strong desire for me to be healthy made things worse by teasing me and threatening me to lose weight. My life was miserable. My sense of humor that I developed as a child got me through in public, but my true esteem was as low as a person could get.

Finally, five years ago, I decided that my only hope was to have weight-loss surgery. I made an appointment behind my husband's back just to see if it was for me. I easily qualified at my weight of 220 pounds and being only 4' 11" that made my body mass index 46. I also had many co-morbidities that are common to morbidly obese people, such as arthritis, sleep apnea, fatigue, etc. I was sick and on the current path, I probably would die in the near future. I qualified and was approved within two weeks for surgery.

From my first consult to three weeks later when I entered the operating room, my husband and family tried to talk me out of it. I stayed strong and told them all that it was my love for them that was the reason I had to do this. They stood by me, but were fearful. I dropped 100 pounds my first year and since have lost 20 more.

I am currently 108 pounds and have maintained that weight for three years now. I'm so healthy that my husband and kids have difficulty keeping up with me. I have jumped from a plane, parasailed, hiked to the top of Half-Dome in Yosemite, hiked for miles in a Hawaiian jungle and repelled down a cliff; I can run for miles without being out of breath. I have so much energy and I can play with my grandchildren on the floor and bounce right back up without having to crawl over to furniture to pull myself up. I've been thin long enough now that my grandchildren do not even know that I was ever fat.

Most people will say that they don't even remember me when I was fat and when I have dreams, I'm thin in those dreams. I've had a rebirth and am on the path of a whole new life. Thank you to my doctors that gave me back my life and to my family that have supported me through every step...even when they were reluctant to do so.