{"id":30744,"date":"2024-07-31T18:07:26","date_gmt":"2024-07-31T22:07:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mentordiscoverinspire.org\/?p=30744"},"modified":"2024-07-31T22:41:00","modified_gmt":"2024-08-01T02:41:00","slug":"what-a-fat-tub-of-shit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mentordiscoverinspire.org\/what-a-fat-tub-of-shit\/","title":{"rendered":"What a Fat Tub of Shit"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Chris Kenney What a fat tub of shit\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n That’s what I tell myself when looking at pictures of me from different times in my life. I don’t know if it’s because I hate that person or if saying it just makes me laugh a little while using it to compartmentalize and disassociate from him. I’m a 35-year-old man, soon to be 36. I’ve been a big kid my whole life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n My weight wasn’t always about eating or food. Rather, it became my safe place, my identity. I remember being pretty big at 12 years old; I was 5 foot 6 and 190 pounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
MDI Contributor <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n