MsCezanne's Odyssey

No, it wasn't an earthquake you felt, it was just me going for a walk at 167 pounds. Luckily for all you amateur seismologists, I rarely walk further than the fridge these days.

I may have only gained 11 pounds in the last month, but it feels like more. Before I was soft and jiggly, but now I'm entering the realm of flabby and sagging. Everything that has grown bigger has now started to move down. My belly hangs over my waistband. My boobs overflow my bra, or rest atop my belly when I set them free. My bum is becoming tremendously wide, and it frequently bumps into things, such as doorways, tables, shelves and even strangers I was sure I wasn't any where near.

Getting my body to move is becoming an act of will. I think twice before standing up now, and make sure I REALLY need to get what I'm getting up for. It's a bit of a balancing act to stand, making sure my weight is over my feet before letting go with my hands.

There are other little challenges that are creeping up in my fat life: reaching for things is harder. For example, if I want the cookies in the top cupboard, I have to stand further from the counter, because my belly will rest on it and get in my way. Also, to reach the top cupboard means getting up on my tip toes. I've discovered that it's hard to get 167 up on tip toes, it's impossible to stay there for more than a moment and it wears you out very quickly. As of this writing the cookies are on the counter, and anything remaining in the top cupboard is considered lost.

I can finally feel people's attitudes towards me changing as I move from voluptuous to full figured. Before I would get attention for my chest, but now people seem to be noticing the general bulginess I present. Where I was getting curious looks before, they're starting to turn disapproving. Certainly no one says anything, and they don't do anything explicit, but they're a step slower helping, more than willing to let me wait an extra moment or two for some attention.

I know that to any reasonable eye, I'm not really all that fat yet, but I'm really starting to feel like it. I'll be sure to let you know when I'm going to the beach next, so you'll know when the tide is coming in.

Labels: byline, FA, fiction, weight gain

As I've settled into my new life of sedentary overeating, tightening clothes and excessive jiggling, it was difficult to generate weekly updates with hard hitting insights, so the column has shifted focus to being a monthly feature. Luckily I've been able to cover for our food critic who has taken time to write his book about European cuisine.

I know that food critics often order several dishes, simply to sample them, so I'm sure it was a surprise when I'd order several dishes and actually finish them. Of course, they wouldn't know that I'd hit the KFC on the way home to really fill up.

My editor is also happy that I can cover 2 columns on one food bill! Maybe I can take over the fashion column to cover all the clothes I've been buying.

I have been buying clothes too, I've popped more buttons over the last month than I'd have thought possible. I shouldn't be too surprised though, in 4 weeks I've put on 12 pounds - 3 pounds a week. My wardrobe is having a hard time keeping up. I don't want to buy too many clothes though, because I won't be 156 pounds for long, and I don't need a closet full of clothes that range from too small to far to small. At the same time, I need enough clothes to get by.

The changes to my body haven't been drastic, but they're far from subtle. Everything on my body is getting bigger, from my cheeks, my arms, my thighs, my bum and (yay) my boobs. Even my tummy, which has never been a flat 'stomach', is maturing from a soft tummy to a round 'belly'. In fact, I've found myself unconsciously rubbing it from time to time like I'm pregnant. Between the expanding bust line and belly, I do wonder if people think I am indeed pregnant.

But I'm not pregnant. I'm just fat. And I'm getting fatter.

Labels: byline, fiction, weight gain

At 144 pounds, it's becoming impossible to convince myself I'm not fat, and I've still got a lot more weight to gain. I've also discovered what it takes to truly feel fat: the jiggle.

The other day I was running to catch an elevator, and I had the oddest, sensation, like my stomach was bouncing up and down. It turns out, my stomach was bouncing up and down! I understand that this is part of being fat, and I should have seen it coming, but the sensation was so new, so different, it really did take me by surprise.

I'll be honest, being a jiggler scared me at first. The thought of having enough fat on my body that it hangs and flops around just terrified me. It wasn't long before the journalist writing this piece came through though. I started to investigate the jiggle.

How much was I jiggling? Not very much.

Where was I jiggling? Pretty much everywhere.

How did the jiggling physically feel? Once I got past my fat-is-evil instincts and began to experience jiggling impartially, I quickly came to see it as a natural extension of myself. It isn't bad at all. It feels alien, of course. It's a new sensation, like eating Thai for the first time, watching HDTV, or reading the book before it's turned into a blockbuster starring Tom Hanks. It's strange at first, but ultimately, there's plenty to enjoy, and you start to wonder how you survived without it.

Not only have I come to peace with the jiggle, I'm starting to wonder how much more I'll be jiggling. Will I notice it more as I gain? Will it ever be as exciting as it is now? Can it possibly get better?

I'm not sure what is weirder: the fact that my body now moves on it's own, or that the jiggle has changed from a signal of being too fat to a desire to gain more weight.

Labels: byline, FA, fiction, weight gain

Whenever I've met up with people lately, they always say, "there's something different about you." I always wait a moment for them to ask, and they always say, "you look fantastic, you look so happy." A few ask my secret, a few even ask if I'm in love.

I confess, I am in love. I'm in love with chocolate, and chocolate has finally reciprocated! Now that it's no longer a sinful secret, I've indulged years' worth of pent up desires, and the affair will rage for a long time yet.

No one has commented on my weight. Of course, many of my acquaintances read this newspaper, so they are aware of my current lifestyle choices. Are they just being polite? There are some I'm sure who aren't aware though. Are they still being polite? I've never asked someone if they're gaining weight, no matter how obvious it was. Was I able to lie so convincingly? Am I just hearing what I wish to hear?

My eating habits have changed. A quick inspection of fridge (and the wrappers in my garbage) show that calorie counting is alive and well, if one order of magnitude greater than before. I eat a lot more now before feeling full, and find myself looking for something to snack on when I'm not even remotely hungry, just bored. In fact, if I'm sitting, I'm probably eating. If I'm not, I feel like I'm missing something.

I am still getting all my nutrition, it's not all pizza and Oreos. I'm eating veggies, with dip. Okay, maybe dip with veggies, but it still counts. I'm having salads, just with more dressing, and maybe with more bacon. I do still hit the fast food places, I still order late night pizza, but the fruit bowl is a source of snacks, and a bag of mixed nuts is as likely to follow me around as a bag of chips.

My weight has crossed 140 pounds. That's a bit of a big number, and I was a little worried about it. 139 is chubby, but 140 is fat. I'm not speaking scientifically, but just in terms of self perception. Crossing 140 was a big deal. I was so worked up, I went off and had some chocolate to calm myself. Oh ironies of life, to get over reaching 140, I managed to eat my way to 142.

142 isn't so bad though. 140 is fat, but 142 is just a number. 150 is what worries me though.

Labels: byline, FA, fiction, weight gain

They say time flies, and for me it certainly has. Four weeks since I began this assignment? Impossible, it feels like I just started yesterday.

And yet, upon further reflection, has it really been only four weeks? Was it just four weeks ago that I would rather go to the gym than read a book? Could I really have had a breakfast without doughnuts just four weeks? Has it really been 28 days since I last took the stairs rather than the elevator? These habits seemed impossible to break at the time, and now, they seem alien to me.

It is more than my habits that have changed. I finally had to purchase new clothes, even my fat clothes weren't cutting it any more. I was absolutely dreading buying new clothes. What would people think, me coming into the store to buy bigger clothes? What would they think seeing how tight my clothes would be? How would I feel having to buy clothes designed for a woman who is 139 pounds?

I found the sales staff to be discrete. They were happy to get me a variety of sizes and styles, and they seemed to be quite knowledgeable at how I should be dressing at my new size. My biggest surprise that, with the right clothes, I look fantastic! My hips are curvy, my chest is attention grabbing, and with the right waistline, I've got a killer hour glass figure.

I never thought for a moment I'd look BETTER with more weight!

With my new clothes on, it really changed how I felt. I knew I looked like a million bucks, and people could see it. I got a lot more attention than I've been getting lately from men, and more jealous stares from women than I've gotten in a long time. I'm no longer a fat slob, but a curvaceous woman, and it feels better than I'd have thought (even with my open mind).

Now that my lifestyle is better suited to gaining weight, and now that I'm finally feeling comfortable with it, I think that I might be gaining more now. 9 pounds in 4 weeks is plenty, but it's just the beginning for me.

For the first time I can honestly say I'm looking forward to the weight, not just the deluxe fudge sundaes.

Labels: byline, FA, fiction, weight gain

As a journalist I'm in a tough position, I want to write a piece that is unbiased as possible. It's my job to report the facts, and then leave my readers to draw their conclusion. However, this series is about my experiences, it is, in essence, my own opinion. So, for example, a good journalist would never say that 'She is turning into a fat slob.' However, as the subject of a story about gaining weight, I feel like I'm turning into a fat slob!

I am trying to keep an open mind about the experience, but it's hard. We live in a society where being thin is highly prized, and being obese is frowned upon. I cannot help but feel like I'm transforming myself into a fat slob. I use the expression with the utmost respect. In no way am I implying that fat people are slobs. In no way am I a slob myself. Just, in the interests of being open and honest, the words are connected in my brain. Sitting on the couch eating chips and cookies, I just feel like a slob, even though in no way am I.

I am getting fat though.

I gained almost 3 pounds this past week, and while it doesn't seem like much on its own, altogether I've gained about 6 pounds, and I'm starting to feel the effects. Certainly some of the effects are from living a more sedentary lifestyle. I know there are many people of size who aren't sedentary, but if I kept up my activity levels, I'd never gain weight. I can't replicate everyone's experience.

My clothes are getting ever tighter. My appetite has expanded, before I was forcing myself to eat, and now I find that I'm often looking for something to eat. The overall changes are subtle, I don't know that anyone has noticed them yet. My cheeks are rounder, my stomach is bulgy, my hips are thickening. My breasts feel fuller, so it's not all bad. (I say this as the subject, not the journalist. As the journalist they appear bigger. As the subject, it's good that they're bigger.)

Labels: byline, FA, fiction, weight gain

It's a dream assignment, I can, nay, must eat everything I want. At least, it seemed like a dream assignment. It turns out eating everything I want isn't enough, I need to eat everything I see, and let me tell you, food really is everywhere! At the end of the day I've eaten so much I can barely move, and at night I lay awake wondering if I've eaten enough.

There's more to it than simply eating more. As a journalist, I'm used to making sure I'm observing the story, and doing my best not to be a part of it. This series is the very opposite, I am the story, and I'm finding it goes against the fibre that I built up over the years at school and on the job.

Even though I'm not a well known personality, I do get recognised from time to time, and now I'm starting to get recognised as the girl who's getting fat. I've changed where I shop. The people at my grocery store recognise me, and I can't face them when my cart has three times as much food as normal. When I go to the drive through, I never make eye contact with the people serving me. I'm a people person, but with so much food being bought, I just can't bring myself to be in contact with people.

Is this my journalistic instinct trying to keep me out of the story as much as possible? Maybe I'm worried about people recognising me? Am I simply embarrassed about how much I'm eating? Are other fat people embarrassed by how much they eat?

Speaking as the central part of my own story, I need to address a question that has come my way frequently. Well, a few questions, really. 1) No, I'm not out of my mind. 2) Yes, I'm being paid for this. Seemed like a lot at the time, not so sure now. The main question I'd like to address though is what my significant other thinks of this. The answer is, I have no significant other. Over the years I've had trouble finding someone to connect with. I'd move on to better opportunities as they came up. I'm very exacting with the kind of man I'd like to be with. I'm smart, opinionated, well educated and (with all due modesty), fairly cute: I can intimidate men without trying. I do date, and have had successful dates, and even a few relationships in the past.

Currently I'm going solo, and haven't quite decided how I'll approach the dating scene. Finding love is a universal quest, for the fat and thin, so to complete this adventure, I will have to date. For me right now, I'm adapting to a new lifestyle, so I'm not sure I'm ready to adapt to a new person or people. Also, what would a date be? An all you can eat buffet? How romantic is that?

Finally, this past week I've gained another 2 pounds. I thought I'd be way fatter by now, but my clothes are getting tight.

Labels: byline, fiction, weight gain

There has been a great outpouring of concern from friends, family, readers, and complete strangers who must've picked up my column online through various means. I assure you all, while this assignment might seem crazy, in some ways, that's the point. I'm going to pursue a life that others would choose not to. I am doing this not because I'm crazy, but because I'm a journalist, it's my job to report on things that my readers haven't otherwise experienced.

It would be the height of arrogance to compare myself to photo journalists who put their lives in dangers to get pictures of the front line, or hard hitting interviewers who attempt to get into the minds of a serial killer on prime time TV, but I lack another metaphor. I'm doing this so you don't have to. I'm doing this so you'll know what it's like for me, and everyone else who is classified as obese.

The change in lifestyle will go far beyond wearing a fat suit for a day. I will gain the weight, I will go out in public as 'me'. I'll buy food, buy clothes, go to the movies, and everything else I normally do. This will be observations over time, not a snap shot of one day where I'm out to prove how tough it is. Putting on a fat suit and looking for discrimination makes it easy to find. Being fat and just living life, is there as much discrimination as people say? More? Less? Whatever the answer, I plan to find out, rather than decide ahead of time.

Since my last writing I have changed my lifestyle. It's a lot harder than I thought. While skipping the gym and having an extra slice of pizza might seem like the ticket, it's not. We think we make a lot of choices through out the day when in fact we're following a routine. I've had two cups of coffee with low-fat milk before I realise I should have cream. I've asked for the salad without dressing without thinking. I take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, finish eating when my stomach says I'm full, and go for a walk around the block with my friend because she asked.

I am learning though. I've always had a soft spot for Ben & Jerry's that I'm starting to indulge. Letting the escalator take me to the top rather than jogging up. They're little steps, but they're good enough for me to gain a pound.

More, and more of me, to come, dear readers.

Labels: byline, fiction, weight gain

Obesity and Terrorism are by far the two hottest topics affecting our nation today. Our publication has always prided itself on getting to the heart of what our readers want to know. Since getting involved in Terrorism isn't something this reporter is ready to do, I will be exploring the world of obesity.

Yes, I know that at 5 feet 6 inches and 130 pounds puts my BMI at 21.0, which is square in the 'normal' range, and quite far from obesity. Over the coming months I will gain 56 pounds, which will bring my BMI to 30, the low end of 'obesity'.

I will learn what it's like to experience these changes within myself, within my circle of friends and within society as a whole. I anticipate an eye opening experience.

The second focus of this series will be for me to experience the weight loss process which has frustrated millions of Americans.

My ultimate goal is to show people on either side of the BMI divide what the world can be like.

Labels: byline, fiction, weight gain