My whole life, I knew something was off with my body. It took me 25 years to finally uncover the truth. Ever since I was a child, I was unusually overweight and never understood why. My family wasn’t known for anyone being overweight, and I was always very active as a kid. I still remember in 3rd grade, a classmate saw my mom and dad drop me off at school and asked, “Why are you fat and your mom and dad aren’t?” That question cut me deep—I had no answer, just confusion and shame. Like many overweight children, I was bullied throughout my childhood, but I did my best to fit in. My parents were always attentive, taking me to doctors, monitoring my diet, and encouraging activity. But despite all of this, something didn’t add up. Doctors tested my thyroid—it was normal—and their standard response was always, “She just needs to lose weight,” accompanied by another diet plan. I’d lose a little weight, only to gain it back with a vengeance. It felt like every pound I lost doubled on the way back.
When I reached high school, I joined the Field Hockey team and finally started seeing some weight come off. I was thrilled! But the excitement quickly faded as I noticed sharp pain in my calves and shins with every practice. I went to the doctor, expecting an answer like shin splints—but all I heard was, “The extra weight on your legs is causing the pain. Lose more weight.” They gave me another diet plan, but the pain persisted. A year later, I had to quit Field Hockey because the discomfort became unbearable. I realized that when I didn’t exercise, I didn’t have pain—so I stopped exercising altogether.
After high school, the weight continued to creep on, mostly in my lower body. I had the largest hips and butt out of all my friends and family, and it led to many embarrassing moments. I remember a Thanksgiving photo where my butt stuck out like a sore thumb among the other girls—so humiliating. At a 3-year-old’s birthday party, several kids pointed and laughed at my backside. I tried everything—dressing to hide it, slouching, standing differently—but nothing worked. The most crushing moment came at an old friend’s wedding. During dress fittings, the store had no mirrors in the dressing rooms, and the size options were limited. I stepped out in a dress that didn’t fit at all, feeling exposed and humiliated. One girl, who was supposed to be my best friend, turned to her coworker and said, “I wish everyone just had a body like you.” I left in tears that day. That friendship didn’t survive.
Around 2012, my feet began swelling terribly. I couldn’t go a full day without swelling, yet every doctor told me it was just water retention due to my weight. Frustrated and unheard, I stopped seeking answers. Three years later, a car accident left my legs smashed against the dashboard. Doctors called it a “contusion.” My right leg swelled so badly I could barely walk for a week. After countless appointments and five ultrasounds to rule out blood clots, the swelling never went away. Even a vein specialist dismissed it as cosmetic varicose veins. I just learned to live with it, enduring swelling that worsened on long car rides, avoiding exercise for fear of pain, and avoiding doctors to escape judgment.
Two years ago, foot pain forced me to see a podiatrist. The brace he prescribed didn’t fit my calves, which had always been abnormally large. He paused, thought for a moment, and referred me to a representative from Tactile Medical. She suggested I might have Lipedema. I was skeptical, but intrigued. I went to a new doctor, one I had never seen before, and explained everything. She listened—really listened—and referred me to a vein specialist who changed my life.
After tests and thorough questioning, I was finally diagnosed with Lipedema and Lymphedema, known together as Lipolymphedema. Lipedema is an immune-related disease of the lymphatic system, often called “fat disease.” My lymphatic fluid, which should circulate back to the heart, was blocked and accumulating in my fat cells. Once damaged, these fat cells cannot be burned through diet or exercise. In its late stages, Lipedema progresses to Lymphedema, where fluid accumulates in the feet and legs, causing swelling and pain. Suddenly, my lifelong struggles, the mysterious weight gain, the pain, and the disproportionate size of my lower body all made sense. It wasn’t my fault.
When I first heard the diagnosis and learned there’s no cure yet, I broke down. I cried in the doctor’s office, thinking, “I’ll never wear compression stockings every day!” I had a full week-long pity party, but then something shifted—I had answers. I finally had clarity and understanding. I realized that the pain during exercise, the frustration of weight loss, and the embarrassment I felt were not my fault. The knowledge empowered me, gave me a path forward, and slowly turned into confidence. I started an Instagram page to educate myself and others, connect with a supportive community, and bring awareness to Lipedema and Lymphedema.
This June, I began Lymphedema therapy, and for the first time, the swelling in my “contusion” began to recede. It wasn’t a contusion at all—it was scar tissue, and lymph fluid loves scar tissue. My legs and feet are shrinking, and for the first time in years, shoes actually fit comfortably. My goal now is to continue educating people, spreading awareness about this disease, and helping others struggling with weight and self-confidence. I know what it’s like to feel self-conscious, isolated, and frustrated with your body. I want everyone to know it’s okay to love yourself, flaws and all. Next, I’ll consult a Lipedema specialist about surgery, the only way to remove Lipedema fat. Sharing my story feels like reclaiming my life—and finally, I feel free.
