Watching this “Perfect Storm” come and go I had no idea it would leave behind a legacy I could never have planned for. My 13-year-old son watched the news, more enthralled than ever before, more contemplative that I have ever known him. He was troubled, quiet and concerned. But here’s the thing: my son has Aspergers and concern about others is not high on his list of endearing qualities. His world is his world and whole countries could tumble around him and unless it affected his particular field of interest then it could easily go by with a bang, a whimper and a “what’s for dinner?” But not this.

And then the first of many questions came. “Mom, is the world ending?”

“What?” I nearly laughed, but then realized this question was extremely serious to him. Aspergers kids don’t really joke too often and generally asking one question leads to many more, because the first question often indicates the birth of the latest long lasting obsession.

I had sailed through the three year pirate phase with relative ease, thankful of my high school sewing classes, my son morphing seamlessly from Captain Feathersword to Captain Jack Sparrow and I was even more grateful of my Diploma in Dramatic Arts enabling me to play swarthy pirate and damsel in distress with great aplomb, perfecting my perfectionist son’s expectations.…

It is with mixed emotions as I watch the wedding dress I never got to wear being auctioned off for the upcoming Make A Wish charity auction this Saturday the 27th October. I have never actually talked about the failure of that relationship publicly except for one article published anonymously in Cosmopolitan magazine just after the raw and far too real breakup that broke my heart.

The only consolation is that it will be going to a very good cause and one of my favorite charities and was the very reason I gave the dress to Make A Wish – I wanted something good to come of what was a heart breaking but also very frightening time of my life.

I’m not going to go into it in detail but suffice to say I found myself a victim (and I really hate that word) of Domestic Violence – I loved a man who could not control his anger but wanted to control me (and my son). We lived in fear, anger and denial (I didn’t want to admit I had fallen for the wrong guy and I kidded myself forever that things would get better). I lost friends, family, work and self-respect.…

I’m a snoop. I hated my adopted mother for years for having gone through my drawers, having read my diary and even having listened in on my teenage angst ridden phone calls. I couldn’t stand it and jumped up and down claiming my right to privacy as a young “adult”. But I am NOT ashamed to say, twenty years later, I am just as bad with my son. I am a category One Grade A Nosey Parker. Guilty as charged, your honor.

I break into my 13 year old son’s facebook often, I read his email messages and check the comments on his Youtube channel, I check his photo stream on Instagram, I look into where he has surfed the web, I check his past phone calls and messages, I track where he is on iphone tracker and I scratch around his room and his life whenever I feel the need.

Now before you jump up and down and call me a bored housewife (correction: single mom) who needs a life of her own, let me explain WHY I do this and how it saved my son’s life.

My son has been bullied one way or another his entire life. He has high functioning Asperger’s, but now he is thirteen, you would barely even know because he/we manage it so well.…

Okay so everyone knows I was doing the Visalus thing a while back. I actually quite liked it but there were a number of reasons why I didn’t continue. To be frank, my weight is more a psychological issue and takes more than a quick fix to sort. Secondly my finances have been “iffy” and as such , well you don’t really want or need to know how/why I eat what I do other than it is purely survival (for now) and sadly doesn’t include the expensive items needed to eat “clean” (for now).

But really, being completely honest I believe I use my weight for “protection” and obviously am not ready to let it go yet because despite knowing exactly HOW to lose weight I have “chosen” not to.

And yes I feel like a failure. You don’t think that as the former host of The Biggest Loser and now looking like I could be a contestant on the very same show that I don’t feel ashamed? You don’t think I know people look at me and presume I was a contestant, and NOT the host, you don’t think I know people are laughing at me, hey I get the nasty emails and blog replies (which are moderated to NOT give a voice to the nastiness) calling me all sorts of names but ALWAYS ALWAYS focusing on my body with endless disgusting taunts about my weight!…

There is so much more to my story but for now I will simply say this about the forced adoptions back in the 50′s, 60′s and 70′s in Australia. I made this a few weeks ago but only now got the courage to share it.
Be kind……..

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