I was a VERY thin child, teenager, and through at least the first half of my 20s. In high school and college, I suffered a couple major depressive episodes, which had the effect for me to lose interest in food and eating quite a bit. I am around 5'5 and at one point dropped to around 100 pounds my freshman year in college.

After I got through that time, I eventually got to around 115-120 and stayed that way for a few years. I am 29 now, and I suppose starting a couple years ago, I started having weight creep up gradually. I began to get alarmed when I crept through the 140s and finally hit 152 or so. At that point my husband, who was overweight as well and suffering back problems (spinal stenosis), got determined to lose weight and we talked about changing our eating habits. We ultimately began to go on a lower carbohydrate lifestyle and he has lost at least 80 pounds and looks great. I am down to 135 and am satisfied, but I still worry like I never used to before, checking the scale to make sure I'm maintaining it. It is a bit depressing when I see a dress or pants a couple years ago that I can't fit into now.

I think my feelings are aimed purely towards myself though. Weight of others has never bothered me or ever been a point of judgement, but for some reason I am still hard on myself about it. I am guessing that is the way of a lot of people, and that it is natural to want to be "what I used to be."

I am mostly very happy for my husband. He has a strong family history of diabetes and I am hoping that he can hold it off for himself by having changed his lifestyle now. Not to mention his back bothers him far less now too. I know he worried a lot about what I thought of his being "fat" though that is something that just never bothered me, and I would look at him and still see the man I married and never thought him less handsome.