I started blogging three years ago. Most of the people in my family has some sort of writing ability. I really did not.

Then again, no one in my family was ever over 240 pounds. I was the only one.

I Googled “blog” and Blogger came up. It was pretty easy to make a blog. I thought about different names, and for some reason Antijared came up. I was already taken, so I changed it to Theantijared.

I wrote my first post. It was about what I planned on doing, what I have already done, why I was “The Anti-Jared” and some rules I would follow.

I did not really write much for the next few months. My dieting was great. Working out was getting better. I would pop in from time to time and write something quick. Actually, my first true post about my past was Gastic Bypass. I remember to this day the guy that told me I would fail. That kind of talk drives me, it always has.

In October of 2008, I told my family about my blog. They were surprised that I wanted to write. In fact, I started to get my name out there. Yes, I did buy the book “Blogging for Dummies” and I did what I could to get traffic to my site.

I started to get comments here and there. Really nice ones. People who were on the journey like I was. People who were touched by my words. For every compliment I got for my writing, I gained confidence. I started to write more freely. I was more open about my journey. People finally related to a food addict. It helped me, more than you know.

I gained confidence in my writing. I was opinionated. Then, the negative comments started coming in. From the same people who brought me up. Maybe I should kiss Oprah’s butt? Maybe I will gain back the weight? Maybe I should work on my writing skills? Maybe I was not as great as I thought?

It bothered me at the time. I understood though. I am a realist. People want you to feel good, but to a point. People do not want you to get that excited about yourself. They might say “SCREAM FROM THE ROOFTOPS ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT LOSS”, but when you do, they are Shhhhhing you.

Two years ago, I wanted to be popular. It is not a secret. I looked at Roni, Mizfit, Dietgirl, and others as idols. What did they have that I did not? I had the weight loss, 200 pounds of it. I had the courage. I had the honesty.

I wanted people to like me. My posts changed. My opinions went through the window. Every post was not to inspire me, but to inspire everyone around me. I did not enjoy blogging, but I like the attention. Forty to fifty comments on a post is pretty good. I was getting traffic on my blog. People were liking me….

Except they were not.I got more negative comments. That I wrote about the same things. That I used exclamation marks all the time. That I put every thing in “quotations”. Hurtful remarks about my family which I have deleted. All from the same people that brought me up.

I stopped trying so hard. I blogged for me. Then everything changed.

Last year I turned off my comments. Then I turned them on.

Now, they are off on my blog. There is so many other ways to connect with people now. It is not 2008. I am the oddball. I am okay with that.

I was not okay with it three years ago. When I got the hurtful comments, very few people came to my defense. It made me stronger. It made me who I am today.

I have been blogging for three years. I have changed my view on weight loss. I have written about it many times. I love reading blogs when people are starting out. When they get the “A-Ha” moment I once had. It is very rare to be a male weight loss blogger for three years. Most of the people I blogged with before are gone from the internet. Their blogs have “permission denied” like a run down building downtown that used to have the best parties.

Lately, I have seen some bloggers getting poked at for their writing. Weird posts that I did not expect to see. It has happened over the last month or so from different people.

Am I the only one that has seen it? Or….am I the only one that will mention it?

Maybe it is easier to put your head in the sand until the storm is over.

Well, I have done this for three years. I have been called the best names and the worst names.

So maybe instead of spitting nails at other people, maybe you should use the nails to build a better community.

Or throw them at me, what do I care.

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