It’s Friday-personal storytime

First things first woke up this morning to find out that Prince died. Sad news to be waking up to. RIP

Now on to other things, I have no classes today, probably why I have been updating so often. Grades 4~6 went on a trip Wednesday and will come back later today.

Anywho, I need to start bringing in snacks. Like more fruits or something. Since working out and eating better I realized my appetite has increased again. I actually feel hungry which is something that wasn’t too common for me. 

The more I think about it the more I realized that the weight gain started when I was younger.

  Warning: I don’t know where this is going. I’m just typing what I am thinking. Might get emotional. You have been warned. Continue with caution.

A lot of stuff happened during my childhood that wasn’t too good but I stayed active and such. Played a ton of sports and my parents wouldn’t restrict us when it came to being outside or what sport we (I have a sister and brother if you don’t know) played. It was all fair game and they encouraged us to do what our hearts wanted. We ate pretty healthy, parents made sure to keep fresh food in the house at all times. The house kept fresh fruits and vegetables year-round.

We moved from Florida to South Carolina and I hated it for years. I could not stand not being close to the beach. Okay, I lived in Wisconsin for a year. I literally turned one in snow country. That’s another story. I spent most of my childhood less than 15 minutes away from the ocean with fresh seafood and everything. Not saying South Carolina is bad, it just wasn’t easy for me to adjust so randomly. Went through homelessness for a bit so things of course changed, but my parents tried to keep our lives as normal as possible. Got a place went to school. Food changed slightly. We didn’t have much to eat and when we did it probably wasn’t the best, but it was cheap. 

Moved again, so by this time I was on my 6th elementary school going to the 3rd grade. It wasn’t easy. I was tested all the time for placement, I just wanted to be in one class, not switched up constantly. The people at the school called in my parents because they knew I was failing the tests on purpose. I still ended up being switched out of classes and put into the advanced ones. I was teased about how I spoke because I didn’t sound like I was from there, I talked too proper, my hair was long and different, my eyes and yada yada yada. At this point I was questioning what was wrong with me.

In Florida, there’s a lot of diversity. When I finally went to this school it was mostly blacks or whites. Nothing in between too much. Maybe a few latinos here and there but I didn’t start seeing them until fourth grade. 

For those who don’t know, I’m mixed up with a lot of stuff like most people are these days. Both of my parents are mixed with a lot of things so I have no choice. African American makes up a huge chunk, then there’s white (British mostly), Native American (Cherokee, Blackfoot, and something else I can’t remember), Asian (Indonesian as far as I know),

Aboriginal Australian and Portuguese. All in all it doesn’t matter, people look at me and instantly say I’m Black. So, it is what it is. Though while being new to that school it was pointed out I wasn’t really “Black” without them even knowing my background one bit. which was like alrighty what makes you “Black”? 

I started feeling self-conscious about everything I did. When kids found out I was really smart they threw it in my face even though I never talked about it. I hated when teachers would be all “Oh, Aisha made the highest grade again” Like don’t say who made the highest grade, keep it a secret. No one needs to know besides me, you and my parents. I felt ashamed to be smart. I didn’t talk much because I was “too proper”. Got teased that I wrote nicely without them knowing I had to practice for a long time to improve my handwriting thanks to my mom’s help. My hair was always long and thick, was even teased about that. People would pull it because they didn’t think it was real. My eyes are brown, on the lighter side with a tinge of green. Guess what? Even that was picked apart. Kept getting asked if I had in contacts. I was wearing glasses definitely not going to be wearing contacts. I didn’t act up in class like a lot of kids that age and that was pointed out. My posture was picked on because I sat up straight. Any move I did was picked apart my 3rd grade year by some kids. Not all of them, just a few but it tore me to bits and I started talking less and less. 

I would volunteer to help the PE teacher do things so I wouldn’t be around any kids besides the other two that helped her along with me. I was into running track and everything even back then. Was one of the top 3 fittest kids so we went to compete with some other at the high school. It seemed like such a huge thing back then, especially since it was at the high school.

Finally after maybe 6 months or so, kids realized I wasn’t really any different and stopped acting the way they did at the beginning. I think the damage was already done though, but I didn’t let it bother me too much I just kept quiet most of the time and I was already pretty quiet to begin with.

Hit fourth grade and things were pretty good. Then, my mom got sick. Long story short, she had a surgery, I was working on a science project with my dad’s help, then suddenly a fight broke out. Dad walked out. Everyone was crying and I felt like it was my fault for trying to work on a science project that was due but I couldn’t work on it because I wasn’t home, because my mother was in the hospital.

Next thing I know my parents are divorced and I stopped doing a lot of things I loved. Track? Nope. Didn’t even run anymore. I kept to myself more. Still had to take care of my mom because she couldn’t do much yet while still healing and take care of my sister and brother. When mom got better she went back to work and did everything she could for us. She made sure we didn’t have to worry about anything. She showed her love by taking care of us, being there and making sure we had enough to eat. She never wanted us to feel the hunger we felt like when we were homeless.

With me being the oldest, I felt it was only right that I helped out as much as possible.I already did it when dad was around but I had to do even more with him gone. That summer I started gaining weight. I ate from emotions, boredom, you name it. By the time I got to 5th grade I gained a ton of weight and just kept packing it on through middle school. I stopped being as active as I used to be and didn’t really care. By the time I was in the 8th grade I was 250 pounds.

When the doctors said I should lose weight, I wanted to but it’s difficult when you have no control over what you eat and such. Mom told me I didn’t need to I was fine the way I was. I understand why she said that and still says that, I’m her baby and she’ll love me no matter what. Plus, there’s a ton of big people in my family. It’s the norm. But, it wasn’t healthy at all for me to be that weight.

So, I continued to gain weight then stay around 270 for awhile. Sometimes I would lose and other times I would gain. I tried random diets and even diet pills. I messed up my knees in middle school playing basketball and then again with volleyball. Through out high school even middle school I earned the nickname “Big Aisha” it wasn’t in a bad way, but it’s not like it’s good either. Especially when you are the only Aisha around. When I was 18, just graduated from high school honors and all that great stuff and was looking forward to college. I went through a brief engagement (yes to get married, long story and lesson learned). That messed me up and I realized around the same time my health wasn’t normal. Was passing blood, like let’s kill this chicken and let it bleed type. 

One doctor was rude and said “Maybe if you lost some damn weight you wouldn’t have this problem.” 

Of course I ended up crying. Like what is that for a doctor to tell anyone? No one should be randomly bleeding.

Later, went to a specialist and I was diagnosed with UC (Ulcerative Colitis) that summer and let’s just say I went through a very dark period. The doctor was saying the rate it was going I could end up with colon cancer in a few years if I didn’t already have it. I was 18 being checked for colon cancer. Luckily, I didn’t have it, but needed to be careful because the rate everything was going it could happen before I was 21. Was told it may cause other issues too. Thankfully I didn’t have to start school until Spring time so it gave me time to adjust to this illness and everything else.

Most of my friends didn’t know because when I told my closest ones they turned their backs on me. So I felt even more alone and at this point, I figured what’s the point in even trying to be friends with anyone. Took medicine some were worse than others. I was weak all the time. My body didn’t know what warmth was. It was literally over 100 degrees outside and I felt like it was a -32. If my family went out they would try to take me but I couldn’t even walk into the stores half the time. I had to stay in the car with the windows up, heat on and at least 5 blankets on me in the middle of a scorching hot day because I was freezing. 

I felt like a burden to my family. I ate but had to cut out a lot of things because I was afraid it would trigger my condition even more. I lost a lot of weight because I was too afraid to eat anything when I was awake. I would randomly basically pass out to sleep for hours. I had no energy. My weekends were blurs because I was literally wrapped up in a corner sleeping. I hated all the medicine that I was on. Instead of making me better it seemed like I only got worse.

Trying to get health insurance was horrible. The medicine that actually helped me out was over $1000 a bottle. And I needed to take it three times a day, No way in the world did I have $1000 to toss to medicine. My grandma (again on my mother’s side) helped me out so much. I couldn’t even get state benefits, was told I’d have a better chance if I was pregnant. Like really? No thanks. I’ll be fine without that.

So, after a few months of basically missing out on life I decided I was done with all the medicine. The pills, enemas everything. I just couldn’t do it anymore and wouldn’t. Plus, I couldn’t afford it. The cheaper meds made me worse. If I was going to die then let it be. If they would have to take out part of my colon and intestines, oh well do it. I didn’t want to spend my time sleeping and not knowing what was going on anymore. I’ll admit I got pretty depressed and really suicidal. Like it would be better for everyone if I wasn’t around anymore. Thought of multiple ways and even though I can take a lot of pain, there’s no way I can kill myself off. Plus, I thought about what my family would have to deal with emotionally from it. It wouldn’t be fair. So, I sucked it up and started focusing on preparing for university.

Started school and let’s just say it brought back a purpose to my life. I met some great people. My weight stayed around the same. Around this time of the year in 2009, I met my last boyfriend. He was doing a business trip and needed directions. We started off as friends. Even when he went back to Japan we kept in contact. I focused on school then a few months later thanks to one of his crazy friends who turned into one of my best friends was like “YOU GUYS BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER. JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY!” So yeah, that’s basically how that happened. 

So had a great relationship even if it was long-distance and made great friends with people I’m still friends with today that accepted me the way I am kpop and all. My condition was becoming more normal. I hid my condition from everyone because I didn’t want to be judged on it. Didn’t even talk to my family as much about it because I didn’t want them to worry. It’s my condition, I have to deal with it. It’s my problem, no need to burden them anymore with it. I had flare ups all the time and they were so painful. I would literally cry from the pain after awhile, but I accepted it as a part of my life.  It was something I would have to deal with.

The condition did make me try to eat healthier because I realized that it wasn’t as bad. I had a friend that went with me to the gym and well life was pretty good. Then later in 2009, found out my boyfriend had leukemia in the late stages. He wasn’t going to last but so long not even a year. That hit me hard. Like this man has done nothing wrong, always was kind to others. A true angel on earth. He was always worried about me and if I was ok. If I got checked up and everything. His friends became my friends and they cared just as much. They were like family. 

My weight dropped and stayed constant. He got worse because he was getting chemo and it was one thing after another, he stopped working while he could, he couldn’t lift his arms but so much. His strength was gone. He hated it. He was always independent and the one people depended on and he couldn’t do anything anymore without help.

October 2010…He was tired. I still remember the last time I talked to him and he was saying he was sorry. That he couldn’t be strong enough to fight it. He wanted to live and have a future together. We talked about getting married and kids. But when he was diagnosed he told me I could leave him and he would understand. I couldn’t do that to him. It wasn’t his fault. So we stayed together. He didn’t want to leave me behind and gave me some final words of wisdom, less than 48 hours later he died.

My world shattered. I knew it was coming. I was preparing myself for it. His friends were there to support me if I needed to talk (they lived in Japan too) but a piece of my heart went with him that day.

I stopped taking Japanese in school. Didn’t really care about doing much, because it would remind me of him. Slowly I started gaining more weight.

Came to Korea in 2012, lost some weight because it was hot with a ton of walking and Korean food. Went back home to gain it back and some more.

Then my grandma passed away later in 2012 and that finished destroyed me. My mom’s health was getting worse. I felt like everyone I cared about and loved were dying. Gained more weight.

Decided for multiple reasons I needed a change and started preparing to come back to Korea. Came back literally a year after I left, and that’s when I was over 300 pounds. Gradually without planning to, I started losing weight again.

I ate when I was emotional, I would eat bad things just because. I knew they weren’t good for me and didn’t care. I ate from boredom at times too but I noticed I ate a lot more when something majored happened. Also, my portion sizes were insane. I was so used to having a ton of food on my plate from how my mom would serve me and my grandmother. They always wanted to make sure that we had a belly full. Especially after we were homeless the first time (remember my family is currently homeless now staying with family for over a year). Now my portions sizes are way smaller. A normal what I would call an American portion is too much food for me now.

So much happened in life and I turned to food. It was the only thing I knew I could count on. Even while being here this time around. Things at home are still not too good. Here I’m alone most of the time just to avoid being hurt. 

BUT~ not everyone means harm. Not everyone I love is going to die so quickly without getting to enjoy old age. I can’t be afraid to get close to people. That’s life you live and you learn. People live and die, it’s the cycle of life. 

I cannot use any of it as an excuse anymore. I want to get healthy. I’m tired of thinking about what others might think. Tired of being scared and self-conscious.  I only have this one life and body. I have to take care of it because no one else will until I do. I have to think of myself as being worth it. Now thinking about it, I never thought I was worth anything really. When bad things happened I figured I did something to deserve it. I know it makes no sense, but that’s what I thought. Just go through life doing what others wanted to make sure everyone else was happy before myself because I had no self worth. 

That age old question: “How can anyone love you if you don’t love yourself?” is one that I have asked a lot lately. Like I love myself more now than I did a few months ago, or last year even. 

I think what triggered it even more for some odd reason is Mr. Ghetto. He doesn’t even know it. I think it was me wondering why he was so interested in me and how. Wondering what his motive was. Like everyone has some alternative motive. Thinking there’s no way in the world he would like me. Not even 1% chance. I know crazy stuff, he showed in multiple ways that he’s interested but I believed none of it. I mean homie has been trying for almost a year. A YEAR~ granted the gap for a few months, life. If anything he came back trying harder than before. He could have found someone closer to him. In the same country as him even. No, he wanted to pursue me. Which I wonder why still because I’m curious. So far he has been nothing but upfront with me, so I have grown to trust him. He accepts me for who I am. He never said I needed to fix anything. Nothing. He didn’t go for the standard oh I like your style or something. He went into how he even liked my ears. I never even thought much about my ears. He went into the little details of what he likes about me. And I was like O.o um…wait what? Which made me ask “Why does he like me so much? I don’t think I like myself that much.” When I asked myself that I knew I needed to appreciate myself more.

The working out and being healthy is me finally loving myself fully. I have slowly done more stuff for myself this year. Mr. Ghetto made me realize I should appreciate even the little things that I may overlook daily about myself. Curse that man, he shall never know this. At least for now muhahaha Even if nothing becomes of the two of us, he made me realize some things for the better.

Anyways, I am me. I am Aisha. That’s all I will ever be and even though it might be tough at times, I know I am strong enough to do whatever I set my mind to. Life will be okay as long as I love myself and keep people around me who accept me for who I am and support me.  I deserve happiness just like everyone else. I am worth it.

To a better and happier future~!