How I lost 7 pounds despite December's festivities and food

Let's start with: I'm not fat. At my heaviest, I was 107 lbs. and even with my short stature (4'11"), I'm still relatively slim.

The problem is I used to weigh 20 lbs lighter, around 83 to 85 lbs, and every pound I gained was noticeable. I've stopped fitting into some clothes and I'm not rich enough to buy new ones. Little things like that coupled with the constant "tumataba ka" really does make #loveyourself difficult.

Being shamed for being formerly skinny is not comparable to the crushing hate people who are fat have to deal with every day, but I found that the little comments people made about my weight chipped away at my resolve to embrace my new shape.

I refused to do a "diet" because my husband is fat and I know what he has been through. He is the sexiest man alive for me. I love wrapping my arms around his belly and everything about him is comforting. All I care about is his health and we've been fine so far. However, he began having problems with his foot as he had seemingly inherited heel spurs from his mom.

He and I love walking, but to continue doing it without being in too much pain after, we both decided to lose a reasonable amount of weight — right in the middle of November, fully knowing that we're going to attend Christmas parties and have two family dinners for the holidays.

The decision wasn't easy. We both have a history of eating disorders — anorexia for me and bulimia for him — and neither of us wanted to fall back on old habits. I also honestly find his body attractive and couldn't imagine him losing any more than maybe 10 lbs.

So that goal was set. We still ate well, but reduced portions. He made an exercise step for me to help with my cardio (that's mostly for my heart and not my weight, because I really want to live a long healthy life with him) and I... I had a meltdown.

Anorexia and bulimia are symptoms of mental health issues. For two or three days, I told my husband that there was something wrong. I couldn't communicate exactly how a world seemed to be crumbling inside me and I — living in a the digital age — turned to the Internet for answers. I found the list of symptoms that matched how I was feeling and the next day, as I got worse, he took me to a psychiatrist.

The doctor we found wasn't even on duty that day, but she opened her office and ushered us in because she said I looked like I was going to fall apart at any moment. She prescribed medication to manage everything I was feeling and the effect was immediate.

I felt better, but I also felt groggy — all the time. During the first week on medication, I could only be awake for six or seven hours. I also lost my appetite. I still ate and enjoyed chunks of lechon, but I couldn't really eat as much and didn't feel hungry as often.

My husband made sure I was getting proper nutrients, feeding me good stuff (vegetables, fish) and not so good stuff (chicken nuggets). We ate steak, pasta, crispy pata, and more during our double Noche Buena. We ate more than our usual, but we ate in reasonable portions. We did not deprive ourselves.

On December 31st, I stepped on the scale and was shocked when it read 100 lbs. I didn’t lose 10 lbs. but 7 lbs. was something. I could fit into a dress I had tucked away in a box. My mom — as moms do, with all the love in the world in their heart — pointed out that I used to weigh much less than that. But it was good. I felt good.

During this month, I realized how horrible truly it is to call people who are fat "lazy" with the assumption that what it takes to lose weight is simply to exercise. 

It breaks my heart, because I have seen people who eat less than me or more nutritiously than me and still struggle to lose weight. There are so, so, so many people who are more active than me who have bigger waistlines. I'm willing to bet they're healthier than I am.

Commenting on people's weight is not necessarily wrong, but it's good to be reminded that you have completely no idea what is going on in a person's life and head. Being concerned about health is nice, but how are you so sure that all fat people aren't healthy?

Anxiety, paranoia, suicide ideation, self-harm, disassociation, feelings of emptiness, and all these things in my head that were weighing me down. I'm fat that way.

I lost weight because of medication and a minding my portions. It wouldn't be a compliment to hear "pumapayat ka" because what I really lost...or, rather, gained was more control over myself and my feelings and my thoughts. That's what really made me feel lighter. — LA, GMA News