"I THOUGHT I'D MISS YOU, BUT I MISS ME MORE.." -KELSEA BALLERINI

"Hi, my name is Penelope, and I'm a compulsive over-eater."

It was my fourth or fifth Over-eaters Anonymous (OA) meeting and I finally said the words. It took me four or five meetings to say it because it didn't feel right. I didn't believe that I was really an over-eater. When the words finally crossed my lips, it felt and tasted like vomit. I knew at that moment that I was not an over-eater, but that I was coping with the lack of love in my relationship. My husband and I were in counseling at the time and I was trying desperately to get my relationship back on track. But, it had not been on track for so much longer than I realized.

Knowing what I know now, I should have left him six months into our relationship. We were together for seven years. The hype and excitement of flying back and forth from NYC to Dallas every month wore off after I was honorably discharged from the United States Coast Guard, after four years of active duty. I came home to a zombie. The passion, the sex, the obsession, it was gone from his eyes the moment I moved to Dallas. But I had moved back for him and I didn't want to accept that I had, once again, completely changed my life, my goals, my needs, and my wants for a man. I loved him with every fiber of my being. And he was done with me 6 months into our relationship.

I believe that if you are not being loved in the way that you need to be loved, that you will find it somewhere, in something. For some it's cheating, gambling, drugs, or booze. For me, it was food. 5'11" and a size 6. My whole life. I rarely knew anything different. I was used to getting attention from men. I was used to getting anything I wanted. Not to say that I was wasn't humble, but I knew I was a beautiful girl. You know when you're a beautiful girl.

So as I gained weight, pound my pound, in my marriage, I sought out guidance from my husband. I couldn't understand why I would drive to three different fast food restaurants in order to get all of my favorite things and then go home and binge myself. I would ask him, over and over, looking for some kind of encouragement or words of wisdom. Instead, it was always 100% my fault. I take full responsibility for the weight that I gained. I could have stopped eating. But, I couldn't. And that's what he never understood.

When my ex-husband and I first met, it was like something out of a book. Infatuated with each other. I had never experienced a man who loved me more. But, looking back now, he never loved me. Every bit of love that he felt for me was conditional. The love he gave was weighed against my looks, my education, my career, my family. Never ever my heart.

I went to OA meetings in an attempt to show him that I was trying. At the time, I couldn't stop eating. But, I could act like I wanted to stop. I could actively show him that I was accepting responsibility for my weaknesses. He could never accept that the things he said to me... or didn't say, were my demise. The moments that I got all dressed up and looked amazing for a date and he says nothing, doesn't even look at me. Demise. The moments that I went to the gym or spin class obsessively to show him that I was trying and he said nothing. Demise.

With every ounce of effort that I put into my marriage, a piece of me would leave. I left my marriage out of absolute and total exhaustion of trying to make him happy in any way that I could find. I was tired to adapting myself in order to fit his needs and love him in the way that he needed to be loved. But, never, ever one time. And I mean, never, ever one time did he ever attempt to love me how I needed to be loved or adapt himself to fit my needs.

I found myself lost. Confused. I didn't want to eat. But I also didn't want to feel sad anymore. Food was the love that I needed at the time. And yet, I felt awful after every binge. Which makes me think. I look back at moments and opportunities that he never took. Moments when a smile, a kiss, or a hand hold could have changed the entire trajectory of my day, my week, my year, my life.

I stand here today, 5'11" and 200 pounds. I've lost 20 since the divorce. That 20 simply came off because I no longer binge eat. But, I hold onto this weight for dear life and I've been back and forth on why. At first, I would tell myself that it was because I didn't want to date anyone. Which I don't. I've been asked out on dates and just completely panic. Zero interest. But, when I'm honest with myself, it's not just because I don't want to date.

I am still holding onto this weight because I'm scared.

I pride myself in being someone who is so open and willing to get back out there and see what's next. But, I can't this time. And that has been both good and bad. First of all, the weight deters men from wanting to be with me. I'm not trying to be dramatic. It's true. I don't look like someone who is supposed to be heavy. I know many heavy women whose bodies are made to be large and curvy and they are beautiful, stunning women. But me, I just look like a fat, skinny girl. Which looks unhealthy and unattractive. Which I completely understand.

I'm not getting down on myself. I'm just trying to paint a picture for you.

The weight has allowed me to stay away from relationships that I do not need in my life right now. One of the biggest mistakes I make is that after a relationship, I get back into another one without fully healing from the last one. In my first marriage, I was sexually abused by him. By the time I found the courage to get out of that relationship. A relationship where he asked me to marry him by literally just putting a ring on my finger. There was no saying no to him. I was a hollow shell of a human after that marriage. I was wrecked. I didn't know who I was, what I liked, what I didn't like. I was angry and sad and barely knew which way was up. 10 months later, I found myself in a relationship with my second husband.

I never want to do that again. No, this marriage did not ruin me like the first one. I actually felt like it was a very civil, easy divorce. But, where's my time to grieve? It's now. As soon as we start to feeling loneliness and sadness, we quickly fill our lives with artificial happiness. I wasn't going to do that again. I will never, ever do that again. So, the weight keeps men away, in which case, I have time to heal.

But, there is a part of me that feels that it is not just me being a bad ass bitch and taking control of my life. I'm scared. If I lose all this weight, I will find myself in another relationship. And what will that do to the new relationship I'm in? The one with myself. I have goals and desires for the very first time in my whole life. I leave in exactly one year to move to Madrid, Spain. My dream come true. To see the entire world. And it's in my hands.. I'm holding it. Maybe I'm carrying around this weight because I don't trust myself to not give up who I am again in my next relationship.

I eliminated a lot of toxic relationships from my life recently. My most difficult relationship being with my mother. Do I think that I will never talk to my mom again? No. Of course I will. But at this point in my life, I am not strong enough to be around her. This is how I feel about the weight. I feel like I carry it around so that I don't have to have the conversation about a relationship with anyone because at this point in my life, I am not strong enough to be in one.

The weight has done something for me though. First of all, it has definitely humbled me. Secondly, I have become more comfortable in my own skin than I've ever been. I used to be the shy girl in bed. The one who tried to hide her body and wasn't able to completely let loose and give in to the feeling that someone might be completely and utterly enthralled by me. Now, I allow myself to feel everything. I embrace sex and moments of time and I just allow myself to feel free. The weight has eliminated my body issues. I'm not totally happy with the way I look right now. But, that's okay. I'm embracing it and allowing myself time to heal.

I think a lot of times we think that when we look put together on the outside, it means we are put together on the inside. So, after bad break ups or hard times, we get skinny and sexy and loud and we try so hard to fake happiness and attempt to convince people that we are okay. But, why do we have to be okay? When people who know me well, see me, they know I'm not okay. My outsides scream that I'm not okay. But, internally, my soul, my heart, my head.. I've never been more clear, more focused, more present.

I can say that I kept this weight on in order to fix my insides, first, because I deserve that, and I finally realized that that is really what I needed. But maybe I did keep the weight on because I'm scared. Maybe it's both. I'll lose this weight in my own time, when I'm ready. When I trust myself to not fall into a man's "dick sand." But what I know is, what I've learned is.. how you feel on the inside is so much more important than how you look on the outside.