I've been overweight my whole life. There's never been a time in my life to which I can look back and call myself thin. I don't have a pair of old skinny jeans hanging in my closet or a set of old photos that capture a life I've lost as the years have passed. I'm not a new mother worried about how to lose the baby weight or a former athlete trying to reclaim her glory. For me, weight has always been a struggle, even before I knew what being fat was. I've spent my entire life dreaming of what it would be like to be thin, and throughout my countless attempts I've always failed. I've never reached that goal, that magic number that has danced in my brain for over a decade.

I'm 25 years old. I first realized I was "fat" the summer I turned 11, although I was probably able to classify myself with this word all the way back to when I was 5. During those six blissfully naive years, I suppose I knew something was a little off about me, but I didn't really know what it was - or at least I didn't care. I was just a kid, and I was happy. However, during the summer of 1998 I was snapped into reality. I don't remember too many specifics about growing up, but I don't think I will ever forget that moment. It was late in the summer, a few weeks before I was to start junior high, and I was enjoying the sunny afternoon at the pool in my complex, as I enjoyed most summer days. As I basked in the cool wetness of the water, suddenly a group of boys from a neighboring apartment building tried to enter the pool grounds, which were restricted to outside guests. The pool attendant told them they weren't allowed in, and as they walked away one of the boys chanted, "I guess only little fat girls can swim!"

These words have haunted me ever since. Was I really fat? Did it even matter? Why was it their business anyway?! But as the years went on and I started diving into a more and more image-driven society I began to realize that the world and all the people in it are not built on practicality or realism - but on fantasy and unreachable standards. Even though I was smart enough to know better, I still yearned to be amongst those lucky enough to fulfil that fantasy. Realistically I wasn't even that big (with my highest weight being 185 pounds at 5'5"), but I felt huge - I felt enormous - I felt like I was 300 pounds some days. For years I tried, and tried again, to lose the weight that had plagued me and caused me to be an outcast at such a young age. I had small successes here and there, but nothing ever stuck, and I still was never able to reach anywhere near that magic number in my head. (Read more about my story here.)

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Last Halloween I moved to Chicago in hopes of starting a new life and pursuing musical theatre, a passion I was lucky enough to discover during my last two years of college. My first year in this amazing city was anything but amazing, filled with endless disappointments (including the loss of friends, my boyfriend, and my job) and enormous doubt that I had made a terrible mistake. However, I decided to stick it out, and I'm very glad I did. I'm now living in Rogers Park - a neighborhood of Chicago that resembles the offspring of a city and a suburb - in a one-bedroom apartment with my new cat, Chester. I've started to collect a circle of friends again, and last month I struck gold and found an amazing job. Things finally seem to have turned around, and now that my head is back on straight I can finally focus on my toughest challenge: my weight.

As I mentioned, I started a new job in October at a corporate banking company downtown. So far I love my job and I see a lot of great opportunities with my company. And if that wasn't enough, my job has also provided me with two incredible tools that will help me finally win the war of weight loss. My company's building has a fitness center on the fifth floor reserved for the employees of the building - to which we have complimentary access. Instead of having to worry about taking pubic transportation or driving to the gym after an already-long day of work, I can just slip down to the fifth floor during lunch, or a mid-morning/afternoon break. The gym is also available 24-7, perfect for any late-night or weekend motivation. Now, I really don't have an excuse not to get to the gym, which is of course the first tool. What's the second?

Weight Watchers. My company is sponsoring an in-work Weight Watchers program for twelve weeks starting next Wednesday. Essentially it works the exact same way as a normal program except my weekly meetings will be held at my office at 1:00 on Wednesdays. I have always been slightly curious about Weight Watchers, and even tried it (unofficially) for a few weeks back in high school. Looking back on all my failed attempts with weight loss, I suppose I wish I would have simply stuck with it, as it seems to be the most sensible and realistic weight loss program I've tried. I'm incredibly excited to get started with it. I feel like it will be the missing tool I've been searching for that will finally help me get this extra weight off once and for all, while teaching myself better habits and creating for myself a new, healthy lifestyle.

My hope is to reach my goal by next summer. Now that I live right on the coast of Lake Michigan (literally, my front door is a two minute walk to the lake) I want to finally feel comfortable in a bathing suit - I want to enjoy the rest of my twenties. I've already let too many years pass me by, using my weight as an excuse and holding myself back from being truly happy. Well, no more. I refuse to live half of a life. I refuse to hide in the shadows when I should be bursting into the light. I refuse to be fat any longer. This time, will be the last time. I guarantee it. Why is this time different than all the others? Because I am no longer looking at my goal as the finish line. Reaching my goal is the starting line! The start of a new life, a new way of eating and thinking about food, a new outlook on exercise and fitness, a new everything! Reaching my goal will be an amazing achievement, but I will always need to "weight watch" - probably for the rest of my life. And that's okay. I'm up for the challenge! I'm up for a life-long change. And I never really was ready for that before. This time, I will get this done - once and for all!