Why is it "a battle"?

Why do we often describe our personal history of trying to lose weight as a battle? It's so instinctive had to correct myself from typing it even though I knew I was asking myself this question. Sure, it feels like one because it's onerous. But by definition "battle"means:

1. a hostile encounter or engagement between opposing military forces (my mind vs. my body? my desire vs. my comfort? my willpower vs. my weakness?)

2. participation in such hostile encounters or engagements: (see above)

3. a fight between two persons or animals (nope)

4. any conflict or struggle (ahh... there it is)

The conflict and the struggle. Sustained. Repeated. Hell, it's not even a battle, it's a war! Some people don't seem to have this struggle - or if they do, it doesn't seem as prolonged and soul sucking. Mine started early. When I look back at photos from my childhood, I was a pretty normal weight for my height, it probably wasn't until junior high that I started to get a little chunky. That said, I was almost my full height of 6 feet when I was in fifth grade. Those fifth grade graduation pictures were so awkward - that Amazonian girl towering above not only her classmates, but her teachers, in this awful pastel pink 80's style dress. Did I pick it or did my mom? I don't recall, but I do remember that it itched like hell and it was definitely a woman's dress, not a child's.

Middle school was pretty awful. It's a tough time for most kids and sticking out because of my height and "weird" name didn't make it any easier to blend in and hide. I think I ate my feelings - coming home to an empty house as a latchkey kid was actually kind of awesome, my own private time to do what I wanted and yes, eat crappy junk food or whatever I was in the mood for. I started playing sports at my parents insistence and despite my pleading and tantrums. More awkwardness - playing basketball with the girls who were already playing competitively. I was out of shape and clumsy and awkward, not yet owning my 6' frame.

Sports did eventually solve the weight issue as they became a bigger and bigger part of my life. Looking at volleyball photos from high school proves that - I was still an Amazon at 6' but proportionate in weight and healthy at 160-165 pounds. I distinctly recall my club volleyball coach telling me I should really focus on my weight - if I could lose 50 pounds it would really make a big differences in my game and my chance at a college scholarship. Fifty pounds - that number hung over me like a raincloud. I remember looking at the other middle blocker - the willowy twiggy blond. Did she weight only 110 pounds? Who knows what she weighed. In hindsight I'm pissed that I let some overweight old man convince me I was fat - he robbed me of a positive body image and self-confidence at a formative time in my life when I should have been happy. I was healthy, attractive and in fantastic shape. But I didn't feel that way inside my head.

I didn't want to play sports in college, I wanted to focus on school and the experience of being in college. College athletes have an entirely different life and I had just spent four years of my life playing sports year-round. I wanted a break. Boy did I ever. I didn't realize that my activity level was what had allowed me to eat pretty freely. And that was before the temptation of abominations like ziti pizza. WTF? Yes, ziti on a pizza. It was absurd. It was also delicious. Living on campus with the freedom to make (bad) food choices and no longer working out led to a slow descent into fatness. I think I stopped weighing myself. I think I stopped caring. My friends weren't jocks or particularly image conscious, I hung with a hippie crowd who loved me for who I was inside. Despite my weight, I actually had developed a pretty decent sense of self and was relatively happy.

After graduation the pounds really started to creep on - I hadn't developed a healthy exercise routine and one of my first jobs as a field manager entailed lots of driving and hotel overnights. Sticking to my $35/day per diem meant fast food and chain restaurants. I was lonely in this new city and my weight now felt like an impediment - something that sucked at my confidence - something I didn't want to face. 

I spent much of my early and mid twenties in that space - overweight and overwhelmed. It wasn't until work brought me closer to home and my support network that I was really ready to make a change. My social life picked up again and with that came two pivotal moments that made me realize things needed to change. The first was a photo from a friend's bridal shower. Could that round ball of a person really be me? Why was I smiling in that picture? Didn't I realize how terrible I looked? What I had become? Not long after was a camping trip and a waterfall hike. I felt like my weight had never held me back physically - although obviously it had. That ascent back up from the waterfall was mortifying. How often I needed to stop and catch my breath. How weak and hopeless I felt. How my weight was literally trying to drag me back down to the bottom. It was clear that this was what I had become but it was also clear that the only person who could change it was me.