I’m a mom.  I’m a wife. I’m a woman. I’m a daughter.  I’m a sister.  I’m an ex-wife, a Methodist and an ex-Catholic. I am fat. I am a friend. I am an un-wed mother.  I am an animal lover, a perpetual student, a romantic, a bibliophile, a sometimes-musician and a wanna-be writer.  I am a foe and an opinionated bitch.  I am a former scientist, a former analyst and a former secretary.  I am also some things decency won’t let me write here.

So…which of these roles are important?  Which of them are defining?  The truth is, they are all important.  Intellectually, I know that but as I told some friends the other night that my life has been defined by my excess weight.  The evolution of the descriptors as my weight escalated and political correctness came into vogue is illustrative.  Baby fat, chubby, pleasingly plump, thick, fat, obese, morbidly obese, super-morbidly obese.  I wonder how much worse it can sound.

That was the definition until I was almost 33.  I wish I could say that the definition changed on February 27, 2002.  The reality is that I didn’t let it change at first.  Most women talk about how they see the baby and they know immediately that they are in love and nothing will ever be the same.  I didn’t feel that…not immediately, so my definition didn’t change that day.  As Bryce began to grow and display his personality…that’s when my definition changed.  I became a mother.  Bryce’s mother.  And it saved my life…

My out-of-focus life.

I guess the purpose of this blog, in general, is to explore all of those roles and see which ones are worth holding on to, which ones need to be altered and which ones I need to get rid of altogether.

So…I’m a mother, I’m a wife.  I’m a wanna-be writer.  It’s tough knowing where to start…