I Was So Obsessed with My Weight That I Didn’t Eat a Single Grain of Rice for 15 Years—All Because of These Cruel Words from My Mother

For 15 years, I didn’t touch even a single grain of rice.

Writing these words, I know many people might not believe me. Some may think I’m exaggerating. But the truth is, since I was 15—back in 9th grade—until now at 33 years old, I’ve avoided almost all carbohydrates, especially rice, because I was terrified of gaining weight.

At that time, media access was limited, and the only weight-loss method I knew of was the Low-Carb diet. I vaguely understood that cutting out rice could help me lose weight. Over the years, it became a mental barrier; I couldn’t even bring myself to touch a bowl of rice.

But everything has a reason…

A Painful Childhood Rooted in Harsh Words

My parents divorced when I was very young, and I was raised by my paternal grandparents. They loved me dearly, trying to compensate for my lack of a mother’s presence by giving me everything they could—good food, nice clothes, and unconditional affection. I lacked nothing and was spoiled with anything I wanted.

But that indulgence led to weight issues. I was a chubby child and, as I grew older, I became overweight, borderline obese. By 9th grade, I weighed 65 kg (143 lbs) and stood only 1.5 meters tall (4’11”).

Whenever I visited my maternal side of the family, my mother would relentlessly criticize my appearance. Words like “fat” and “ugly” were repeated like a broken record:

“You’re getting bigger and bigger, like a pig!”
“How can you be so fat and ugly? I wasn’t like this!”
“If you don’t lose weight, no man will ever want you!”
“You’re a grown girl, and you look like an elephant. Don’t you realize that?”
“Even a hippo doesn’t eat as much as you do!”

My mother even avoided sitting near me because she couldn’t stand how much I sweated in the sweltering summer heat. At an age when I was already self-conscious and struggling with insecurity, her words made me want to disappear. Every time she scolded me about my weight, I wished I could dig a hole and crawl inside forever.

A Radical Weight-Loss Journey

I began a strict weight-loss regime as if to seek revenge for my mother’s cruel words. In a short period, I managed to lose 20 kg (44 lbs), dropping from 65 kg to 45 kg (99 lbs). It sounds like a success story, but it wasn’t. My approach was extreme and unhealthy.

At just 15 years old, I believed that cutting out rice and all carbohydrates was the right way to lose weight. For years, I survived on vegetables, tofu, and small portions of lean meat. Even during Lunar New Year celebrations, I didn’t eat a single piece of rice cake.

Though my appearance changed, my health deteriorated. I became fatigued, weak, and irritable. My grades started to drop as well.

The Lingering Impact of Words

My mother may never understand how her harsh words not only hurt my feelings but also left long-lasting scars on my physical and mental health. These insecurities didn’t fade even after I became a mother myself.

After giving birth to my first child, I gained significant weight, reaching 80 kg (176 lbs). Desperate to lose it, I resorted to my extreme dieting habits. The result? I lost my breast milk supply when my baby was just 4 months old.

When I had my second child, the same pattern repeated. I obsessed over my weight, restricting my diet to the point of near starvation. At one point, I weighed only 37 kg (82 lbs) and was severely undernourished.

What’s terrifying is that even at my lowest weight, I still saw myself as fat. I refused to eat rice and avoided carbs altogether, no matter what.

Seeking Balance and Healing

Today, I’ve adopted a more balanced and health-conscious diet. Yet, the fear of gaining weight still haunts me. Even a slight increase on the scale triggers anxiety.

Happiness and self-confidence shouldn’t depend on weight or appearance, but convincing a heart that’s been deeply hurt is easier said than done. I hope that one day, I’ll truly find freedom from these obsessions and recognize that I deserve happiness and love, regardless of my size.

I want to love myself in every version, without constantly fearing the number on the scale.

Should I seek help from a psychologist to overcome this deep-seated weight obsession?