Every time my fawther ( our special way of communicating) gives me a hug, he grabs me by the shoulders and hoists me slightly from the ground and does a playful, yet sometimes serious test, to check my progression or lack of. Yes, I hate disappointing him, but sometimes I enjoy the “Need to gain a few” over the “Yeah Much Better Baby!” He is always there to give me confidence, which keeps me pushing forward. He has always told me I was put on this Earth for a reason and I am finally starting to understand my meaning and that is to be a voice for people like me. Thanksgiving of this year, the the first thing my mom said to me was ” Morgan, you look great, you have thighs!” I cringed at her compliment and had to tell her to stop. I had to explain that her words were sadly doing more harm to me than good. Holding back tears when your very own mother is expressing how proud she is of you for the weight you have gained, hurts not only myself but her even more. I wish I could say “Yes mom, I’m happy with this progress!”, but I can’t. It only makes me want to throw up the Thanksgiving dinner we all worked so hard on.
-I want to note that this blog is exposing myself not only to the people who don’t know me, but to the people I am writing about. It’s raw and unedited, but that is my goal.