My voluptuous pear shape is a common characteristic shared by the women in my family. From an early age, I developed big thighs and wide hips, which caused concern for my parents. They even questioned how a toddler could have cellulite. The medical community’s collective opinion was that if I simply lost weight, the cellulite and body pain would go away. So, I embarked on various diets, including WeightWatchers, Herbalife, and even attended a summer fat camp, all before reaching puberty. Unfortunately, none of these diets had lasting results.
As a teenager, I was determined to “fit in” and not be labeled as the “fat kid.” I constantly pushed myself to keep up with my friends, tried to control my movements to appear lighter, and spent hours dancing and exercising at home. However, despite my efforts, I experienced persistent pain that I learned to ignore and hide to avoid embarrassment. It wasn’t until high school when the pain became excruciating that I finally spoke to my doctor about it. He attributed the pain to the extra weight my body was carrying and suggested that losing weight would alleviate it. Disappointed by his response, I tried fad diets that led to more weight gain than loss.
By college and early adulthood, I had given up hope of finding a solution for my pain. Instead, I focused on being successful despite my weight. I became obsessed with not letting anyone see me “acting fat” and refused to acknowledge my pain. Internally, I was living in misery while presenting a happy facade to the world. Even when I sought help from the medical community, their response was often judgmental and focused solely on my weight. They failed to understand that my fat was different and causing physical discomfort that couldn’t be resolved through diet and exercise.
Feeling frustrated and with decreasing mobility, I turned to the internet in search of answers. I knew I couldn’t be the only one going through this. Unfortunately, the general medical community offered little assistance and often made hurtful comments instead. It wasn’t until a doctor suggested lymphedema as a possible cause for my symptoms that I began to understand what my body was experiencing. Lymphedema is a condition characterized by swelling due to a blockage or overload in the lymphatic system. This diagnosis was only the beginning of my journey to understanding my body, but it came too late. A month into lymphedema treatment, I lost complete mobility and have been working to regain it ever since.
During this process, I was fortunate enough to meet specialized doctors and therapists who accurately diagnosed my condition as lipedema, a chronic medical condition characterized by a buildup of fat in the legs and arms. Finally, I reached a point where I felt understood and hopeful. These professionals recognized that losing weight wouldn’t magically eliminate the pain and that my fat was not normal. They helped me learn how to care for my lipedema body, specifically my lipo-lymphedema, where lipedema progresses to affect the lymph system as well.
I’ve begun to learn techniques to support my lymphatic system and have discovered that certain foods and exercises have a more positive impact on my body. I’ve also realized that certain activities are more stressful for my body. Instead of solely focusing on weight loss, I now prioritize caring for my lipedema body as a whole. However, the emotional damage caused by years of societal pressure and internal criticism still persists. It’s a constant battle to silence the self-doubt and remind myself that I am a human battling a medical condition.
Rather than obsessing over losing weight, I concentrate on managing my lipedema. I seek connection with others who are also dealing with or treating this condition, which has resulted in a more sustainable reduction in my weight. Most importantly, I’ve gained hope throughout this journey.