I don't fully blame myself for my weight. Fact is, a lot happened when I was a kid and those are all things I can't blame myself for.
In our house, it was normal to drink cola each day, every day. My parents never drank water. Just, lemonade and cola (and I hate lemonade, so that became cola). Only other beverage choices included alcohol (which I obviously didn't drink), coffee (again, I didn't drink) and milk and chocolate milk. Not the healthiest of choices.
Although my dad ate breakfast, my mom didn't. As a kid I first did eat breakfast, but it was the wrong kind: those overly sugary cereals, advertized for kids as a healthy choice, but, trust me, they are NOT. It's wrong to advertize such cereals, chocolate milk and a certain kind of chocolate spread as a healthy choice for kids. To me, it's more than wrong, it's immoral and can never be justified. As I got older, breakfast got skipped as well. Another very unhealthy choice, mainly because my Mom didn't eat breakfast.
Then there were school lunches. In the beginning, they were doable, but as they changed the supplier of food, their food became really bad. So bad they forced everyone who stayed in at school, to eat those warm lunches. Bringing your own sandwiches was no longer allowed. Now, although my Mom's cuisine isn't exactly healthy, it's delicious and in school, food was terrible. I was 7-8 or so at the time and they would literally force the food down my throat. Two adults. One to hold me, the other to shove it down my throat. My relationship with food had taken a turn for the worst.
Not just that, but obviously when I came home at 4PM, I was starving. Since my Mom came home a little later, I was first at my granparents and as we all know, they have cookies and chocolates. So, I ate that. Not my fault, I was 8 years old, hungry as **** and there was nothing else to eat!
As I became older and more aware of my body image, my hatred towards food increased even more. Taking into account my father's accident at age 11, my Mom had little time to cook (often there were people visiting my Dad at our house, staying till 10PM, and then we still had to eat!). Now at secondary school, I could finally take my own food, which I soon traded for my Mom giving me money to buy a sandwich. Which I didn't buy. I didn't often eat normal at my home as well, so I skipped many, many meals and even days went by where I'd survive on a few cans of cola and no solid food, unless maybe a chocolate bar if the hunger became too big of an issue.
If you thought I was skinny at that time, you'd be very wrong. Because I obviously did still eat and when I did, it was unhealthy. Cola doesn't help either with losing weight. But I hated food and I just ate when I felt weak or when someone forced me or it was my favorite food (I love sprouts, fries, steak, cabbage,... So it's not all unhealthy, but when I ate, I overate.)
After a while, I finally started to eat more "normal", more "regular" again, but then my weight started to yo-yo for no apparent reason. I'd excercise less and eat more and lose weight. To slowly gain it, without changing anything. Heck, even "being careful with what I eat" made me gain weight. Then, suddenly, wham, lose weight again. Apparently, that's my thyroid not knowing whether it wants to be hyper, hypo or normal. Djee, thanks a lot, thyroid!
Then I quit smoking, gained a lot of weight again. My GP said: "Yeah, it's just your metabolism slowing down", thanks, doctor! Now I know why I'm getting FAT again. Later on, I was there for something else, and we talked about how I still didn't smoke, but I had gained so much weight, he said "You do realize it's still healthier with the extra weight?" Well, back then, it was the truth, but I gained again afterwards as well.
So it's no longer true.
But, for the weight gain AFTER I moved in with my boyfriend, for those pounds I am fully accountable. I was 23 at the time and I should have been old enough to tackle my issues with food already. Which I thought I had, but that was in the form of "cutting calories till the point I can lose the weight of a once/week fastfood". Which, in my case, meant something like 500-700 kcal/day, and then once a week 3000+. No, I'm not proud of that. No, you shouldn't do it either.
But living with my boyfriend, meant I had someone who noticed how much I ate, so I could no longer do the restriction-thing. Meant extra weight. Meant being shown black on white (or on a scale) that I still had severe issues with food. No longer was I able to run from my issues. They were there, presented to me under the form of a decreasing health, fitness level, increasing blood pressure,...
That's why I say, I am not responsible for 50 pounds of my excess weight, but the other 60 are my fault and my fault alone.