A Fat Family History

I was raised on biscuits, grits, fried eggs and bacon on a country culdesac in east Texas. It was a couple of acres of land roaming with dogs and chickens, and I love my memories of growing up in the same house my mother did. I inherited my green eyes and curly hair from my mother, and my knack for hands on creativity from my grandmother. My younger sisters and I were loved equally and frequently. We were raised to mind our manners, and we were not to leave the kitchen table until we finished what was on our plates. We were all comforted by the softness of my grandmothers underarm, and the warmness of my mothers embrace. Their big soft bodies never registered with me as grotesque, but rather comforting. By the time I hit 16, I was as big as, and eventually bigger than, they were. It didn't register as a health problem because the most influential women in my life were fat, and they were wonderful. To love and be loved is to be blissfully blind to a lot of things.

It's easy, and false, to assume that if your parents are fat, than you're destined to be fat too. It is true that if a parent is plump, there is a 50% chance that the child will be also. Most important are that there are environmental effects that change that outcome (diet and exercise...duh). Although there are some very rare and extreme cases that can be blamed on a genetic mutation, that's not the case for most of us. If you're more interested in the link between genetics and obesity, the centers for disease control and prevention have an interesting article here: http://www.cdc.gov/Features/Obesity/

My family does not have a history of diabetes or heart disease. I have regular blood pressure and blood sugar, and I happen to know that my iron count is excellent (whatever the hell that meas). In those areas, I'm very lucky, but I do struggle with weight loss. This is because of unhealthy habits and lists of excuses, not because of any major medical setback.