Designated Fat Girl by Jennifer Joyner Read Free Book Online Page A

the crack of dawn, but I felt once again like I was doing something I was meant to—reporting and announcing news. And it was radio, so my appearance didn’t matter! How refreshing that was—I could show up and not feel so self-conscious about how I looked. After the internship was over, I was offered a full-time job, making very little money. They wanted me to do news reports for both the AM and FM stations in the morning and then handle the station’s public affairs responsibilities. Another full-time job, and I wasn’t even out of college. I felt very lucky, even though I still viewed the situation as temporary. After all, I wanted to be a television reporter—radio didn’t make my pulse quicken. And news, to me, was only big in pictures, not just words. Still, I took the job and was excited to be back on the air.
    I graduated college and was as heavy as I’d ever been, approaching 250 pounds. Focusing on my classes and the shorter commute to the radio station didn’t help my situationas I’d hoped they would. I still overate and didn’t exercise, always promising to do better the next day. With my degree in hand, I felt pressured more than ever to hurry up and get my television career restarted—but I couldn’t get myself going on any significant weight loss. I stayed at the radio station and right after graduation they added to my duties: They wanted me to cohost the morning show on the FM oldies station.
    I was twenty-three years old. It was strange, to me, to be on an oldies station. I had nothing against Elvis Presley or the Beatles, but that was my dad’s music. Plus I was a newswoman—I never really saw myself as a laugh-and-cackle morning gal who told jokes and spun tunes. But it was a job, and I was in no shape to look for another one. Plus they gave me the title of news director, and I was still able to do the news for both stations. Again telling myself it was only temporary, that I would do it only until I could lose the weight and get a “real” job, I took it.
    The job was a lot of fun. My on-air partner, Larry Smith, was one of the nicest guys you could ever meet, and we had a great rapport. Off air he totally supported my reporting ambitions and always tried to encourage me to lose the weight and get back in the TV game. He was the consummate radioman, and that show meant a great deal to him. I have a lot of guilt about not supporting him in his dreams. You see, on the one hand, being on the radio was great for someone like me: I had a nice voice, and I found it easy to laugh and joke on the air with my buddy Larry. We built an audience, and I had my share of fans, particularly male listeners who would call and talk about how beautiful I sounded and how they would love to see what I looked like. The fact that they couldn’t see me allowed meto live in a sort of fantasy world, where I was beautiful and desirable.
    But eventually fantasies die and reality sets in. In order for our morning show to grow, we needed to promote it—to hit the streets and meet our listeners in person. I was scared to death. I honestly felt those loyal fans would take one look at me and never listen to our show again. The fantasy would be over, and everyone would know the reality of what I had become physically. I couldn’t handle the humiliation, so I refused to help promote the show. I used the excuse that they were paying me peanuts, and really, that was the truth. The extra hours I would have spent making appearances would have gone unpaid. But the people who tuned in every morning and supported our show deserved more, and I certainly owed it to Larry to help him in every way he had helped me. In the end I couldn’t face it, and the show suffered, as did our friendship. We lasted several years, and we’re still friends today, but I will always regret how I handled that situation (add that to the big pile, I suppose).
    I wasn’t having much success in the weight-loss department, but I never gave up hope that