Upon finishing the last of many, many pieces of birthday cake I've enjoyed over the past week, I realized something. I love, enjoy and appreciate food even more now that I'm moderating my intake of it. Then I thought, "Huh, that's ironic," but now I'm wondering if it is. I mean, it IS ironic given how very much we demonize food and worship dieting in our culture. (Dieting often seems like the most direct route to hating food.) On the other hand, to say it's normal is to play into the notion that dieting gives you total clarity about food and eating. (The truth is that sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't.)
Ah, food and fat politics... it's the metaphorical worm eating it's tail, no pun or irony intended.
To call what I'm doing "dieting" is a gross overstatement, thankfully. This week I elected to chow the fuck down for my birthday, and I have some added poundage to show for it. It didn't upset me to see the number on the scale go up and up and up a little bit each day because eating a boatload of super yummy Indian food on my birthday and then a big plateful of Mexican cheesiness and naughty ballpark food over the weekend, not to mention plus or minus seven pieces of various birthday cakeage in seven days time, gave me profound joy. I can also trust that the number will go back down once I reinstate moderation and put in a little effort. No need to panic or start hating myself because I indulged and was able to see a direct consequence to my weight because of it. (FYI, there have been plenty of times over the past five months when I have panicked about the number on the scale. The benefit of experience and perspective is, as always, most beneficial.)
Speaking of numbers on a scale, when I returned from vacation at my parents house (as mentioned in the previous post) I was finally able to weigh in and found myself almost 23 lbs down from my starting point last November. Shiver me timbers, it freaked me out and blew my mind. I actually ended up having an anxiety attack partially because of it. Too much change at once doesn't work well for me, and I will always worry that the change isn't sustainable if it happens quickly.
On a related note, up until that point I didn't have too much awareness of how differently my clothes were fitting. It wasn't a day later that I put a favorite shirt on, looked in the mirror and thought, "WHAT is the deal with this shirt?" It was like the universe turned upside down and I had no idea what I was even looking at. As I have so many times in the past I wanted to blame it on the laundry process, that surely something somewhere got fucked up and my shirt was washed in the wrong temperature or was put in the dryer when it's meant to be line dried, so on and so forth. But, no. It's just too big on my body now to be flattering in any way. This pisses me off on a number of levels, the least of which is the amount of dough I dropped on that particular shirt, thinking it would be a solid investment and would reside in my closet for many years looking spiffy and cute. Moreso it irks me because I have to work (play) hard to even find things that I think look spiffy and cute on me, and, well, another one bites the dust.
And another one gone,
And another one gone,
Another one bites the dust!
I never in a million years thought I'd be complaining about my clothes being too loose or having to go shopping for stuff in a smaller size. The thing is, I don't want to be blowing money on interim sizes if I keep losing weight so I'm holding out until it's no longer fathomable for me to wear what I currently have in my closet. Also, the vain part of me wants to really and truly experience what it's like to walk into a clothing store and get the smaller size. Right now I'm kinda-sorta-mostly into a size smaller and it's irksome to try to fit things correctly. I have a feeling, however, that I'll always walk into a store and struggle to fit into clothes correctly, whether they be too big or too small. Given that part of the reason I want to lose weight is have greater access to cute clothing, that is irony on a stick.
11 April 2011
22 March 2011
Crabalicious
There's no denying I'm having a full-on crabby attack this evening. It's been an accumulation over the last few days from being out of my element, feeling misunderstood and trying to regulate my eating and exercise in an environment where it's difficult to keep my head above water. Visiting family and being "home" in Southern California for an extended period of time... it's not for the faint of heart.
I remember the moment I knew I was fat, or more precisely, that fat was a Problem. I was all of 10 years old and the biggest fad of them all was Jordache jeans. The popular chicks at school had 'em and there were endless ads in my sisters' Sixteen magazines for 'em. Thus, I WANTED 'EM. NOW. I thought the biggest hurdle would be talking my parents into spending the money on them, my parents being, respectively, a SAHM and a music teacher with a penchant for being hella cheap no matter what the annual household income ever was or is. But, nope. The true problem was that they didn't make Jordache jeans in my size. That was a really shitty day at the mall in 1982, let me tell you. There was no turning back. (And here we sit today... me writing and you reading about big, fat issues.)
You know those times when you learn about something that apparently everyone else has been talking about rabidly, and then all of a sudden that thing is everywhere you turn? Just happened to me a couple days ago at Starbucks in Kettleman City off I-5... Cake Pops. (Who the fuck knew about cake pops and mini desserts? Not me!) That day and the ensuing ones in 1982, I learned that you need and want to be thin - for myriad reasons other than just impressing your peers with Jordache ownership - and everywhere you turn that message is up in your grill.
Aside from the proliferation of french manicures, orange spray tans, Uggs, strip malls and pinner burritos, this is my main problem with Southern California. The second my ass hits the 210 from the 5, every other billboard you see touts the Lap Band or some other crazy weight loss surgery. Not that people in Nor Cal are necessarily any more gracious about fat folk but at least there I don't get packs of frat boys overtly mocking my appearance and size. The worst part of it for me is the irony of it all. People drive everywhere here, you can't fling a tennis ball without hitting a fast food restaurant and damned if I've seen anyone exercising in the several parks I've been to over the past few days. Bah!
On Sunday morning I was reading the Press Enterprise over my breakfast and came across this article. It's remarkably restrained and objective for such a conservative newspaper and one residing in So Cal, so I'll give it props for that. Otherwise, I'd like to slap everyone interviewed within.
1) Oh, you won a lame "Biggest Loser" knock-off contest by losing 68 pounds in 16 weeks, which averages out to approximately 1.5 lbs lost per day, and then accidentally gained all the weight back after the contest? Wow, that is SO shocking. Thanks for giving the general public more fodder for the fat stereotype fire, dude!
2) As for the Beaver Medical Clinic, they can go fuck themselves and their stupid, manipulative contest to engage desperate people wanting quick weight loss and free money. When businesses and "free money" are involved, don't fool yourself... it always comes down to gaining more customers.
3) And yes, let us not forget the "rising cost of obesity". How about all the supposedly well meaning health professionals and researchers, lobbyists and insurance companies (and hey, Michelle Obama even) target patients for the rising cost of treating their cancer and see how far they get before they offend the shit out of pretty much everyone. Obesity is an umbrella term encompassing the potential for a set of diseases. Not everyone who's fat - oh, excuse me, OBESE - has high blood pressure and high cholestorol and is one cheese burger away from dying of a heart attack. Thin people sometimes have just as many genetic, habitual and/or environmental risk factors, and they don't have the pleasure of being called "obese" because their BMI is under 25.
The rising cost thing is what wrankles me the most when I hear about the epidemic and problem of obesity. No lie, fat people DO need to exercise more or start exercising to begin with, and/or they do need to make better choices about types of food and portion size. Most of all, fat folk need to be aware of their own risk factors, whatever they may be and try to offset those factors if they can and want to. After that, I'm not sure that us fat people bear any more responsibility than anyone else to make sure we're not burdening the collective kitty, or our employers or insurance companies with our health care costs. It always comes down to money in a capitalist system. I'm not a person... I'm a goddamn potential waste of dollars to those in power and those who hold the purse strings. That's what really is cared about in this scenario and to quote one of my fine coworkers: it pisses the shit out of me.
When it comes down to it, we all are humans. We're faulty and foolish. We court death and we cheat death every single day. We love some and we hate others. Sometimes we condone unnatural behaviors while condemning natural ones. We're breathing, walking ironies most of the time as much as we don't want to be. It's just how life is, I suppose.
As for myself, I'm really struggling with my weight loss attempt at present. I was lamenting to Honey Bunny the other day that, "I'm stuck at only 15 lbs lost." He replied, "Don't you mean to say that you're proud of yourself for having lost 15 lbs, which is quite an accomplishment?" Nothing like a little perspective; I love that man.
I'm in So Cal for a week with my family, with the associated many, many foodly temptations therein, and without a scale in which to check myself daily. I'm good with 15 lbs as long as I maintain it because, at the risk of sounding like a fat hating clone, there is nothing worse in weight loss than having to lose the same 5 lbs over and over and over again. For me it's more like the same 3-4 lbs but still. It's freakin' irritating and frustrating as sin to have come this far and to feel like I'm barely maintaining not only my weight but the headspace that got me here to begin with.
Let me just get this last thing off my chest, like so many other things. Earlier this evening I rooted around in both bathrooms and all four bedrooms of this house I grew up in for a scale, like a junkie looking for a hit of heroin. Somehow, some way, I need to be checked - and I'm not talking about the act of checking my weight on a scale. Trusting that I'm going to do that for myself (ie. the only person that can rightfully, genuinely and effectively check me) in due time, at the right time, scares the crap out of me. It will happen and I will get there, though. Patience.
I remember the moment I knew I was fat, or more precisely, that fat was a Problem. I was all of 10 years old and the biggest fad of them all was Jordache jeans. The popular chicks at school had 'em and there were endless ads in my sisters' Sixteen magazines for 'em. Thus, I WANTED 'EM. NOW. I thought the biggest hurdle would be talking my parents into spending the money on them, my parents being, respectively, a SAHM and a music teacher with a penchant for being hella cheap no matter what the annual household income ever was or is. But, nope. The true problem was that they didn't make Jordache jeans in my size. That was a really shitty day at the mall in 1982, let me tell you. There was no turning back. (And here we sit today... me writing and you reading about big, fat issues.)
You know those times when you learn about something that apparently everyone else has been talking about rabidly, and then all of a sudden that thing is everywhere you turn? Just happened to me a couple days ago at Starbucks in Kettleman City off I-5... Cake Pops. (Who the fuck knew about cake pops and mini desserts? Not me!) That day and the ensuing ones in 1982, I learned that you need and want to be thin - for myriad reasons other than just impressing your peers with Jordache ownership - and everywhere you turn that message is up in your grill.
Aside from the proliferation of french manicures, orange spray tans, Uggs, strip malls and pinner burritos, this is my main problem with Southern California. The second my ass hits the 210 from the 5, every other billboard you see touts the Lap Band or some other crazy weight loss surgery. Not that people in Nor Cal are necessarily any more gracious about fat folk but at least there I don't get packs of frat boys overtly mocking my appearance and size. The worst part of it for me is the irony of it all. People drive everywhere here, you can't fling a tennis ball without hitting a fast food restaurant and damned if I've seen anyone exercising in the several parks I've been to over the past few days. Bah!
On Sunday morning I was reading the Press Enterprise over my breakfast and came across this article. It's remarkably restrained and objective for such a conservative newspaper and one residing in So Cal, so I'll give it props for that. Otherwise, I'd like to slap everyone interviewed within.
1) Oh, you won a lame "Biggest Loser" knock-off contest by losing 68 pounds in 16 weeks, which averages out to approximately 1.5 lbs lost per day, and then accidentally gained all the weight back after the contest? Wow, that is SO shocking. Thanks for giving the general public more fodder for the fat stereotype fire, dude!
2) As for the Beaver Medical Clinic, they can go fuck themselves and their stupid, manipulative contest to engage desperate people wanting quick weight loss and free money. When businesses and "free money" are involved, don't fool yourself... it always comes down to gaining more customers.
3) And yes, let us not forget the "rising cost of obesity". How about all the supposedly well meaning health professionals and researchers, lobbyists and insurance companies (and hey, Michelle Obama even) target patients for the rising cost of treating their cancer and see how far they get before they offend the shit out of pretty much everyone. Obesity is an umbrella term encompassing the potential for a set of diseases. Not everyone who's fat - oh, excuse me, OBESE - has high blood pressure and high cholestorol and is one cheese burger away from dying of a heart attack. Thin people sometimes have just as many genetic, habitual and/or environmental risk factors, and they don't have the pleasure of being called "obese" because their BMI is under 25.
The rising cost thing is what wrankles me the most when I hear about the epidemic and problem of obesity. No lie, fat people DO need to exercise more or start exercising to begin with, and/or they do need to make better choices about types of food and portion size. Most of all, fat folk need to be aware of their own risk factors, whatever they may be and try to offset those factors if they can and want to. After that, I'm not sure that us fat people bear any more responsibility than anyone else to make sure we're not burdening the collective kitty, or our employers or insurance companies with our health care costs. It always comes down to money in a capitalist system. I'm not a person... I'm a goddamn potential waste of dollars to those in power and those who hold the purse strings. That's what really is cared about in this scenario and to quote one of my fine coworkers: it pisses the shit out of me.
When it comes down to it, we all are humans. We're faulty and foolish. We court death and we cheat death every single day. We love some and we hate others. Sometimes we condone unnatural behaviors while condemning natural ones. We're breathing, walking ironies most of the time as much as we don't want to be. It's just how life is, I suppose.
As for myself, I'm really struggling with my weight loss attempt at present. I was lamenting to Honey Bunny the other day that, "I'm stuck at only 15 lbs lost." He replied, "Don't you mean to say that you're proud of yourself for having lost 15 lbs, which is quite an accomplishment?" Nothing like a little perspective; I love that man.
I'm in So Cal for a week with my family, with the associated many, many foodly temptations therein, and without a scale in which to check myself daily. I'm good with 15 lbs as long as I maintain it because, at the risk of sounding like a fat hating clone, there is nothing worse in weight loss than having to lose the same 5 lbs over and over and over again. For me it's more like the same 3-4 lbs but still. It's freakin' irritating and frustrating as sin to have come this far and to feel like I'm barely maintaining not only my weight but the headspace that got me here to begin with.
Let me just get this last thing off my chest, like so many other things. Earlier this evening I rooted around in both bathrooms and all four bedrooms of this house I grew up in for a scale, like a junkie looking for a hit of heroin. Somehow, some way, I need to be checked - and I'm not talking about the act of checking my weight on a scale. Trusting that I'm going to do that for myself (ie. the only person that can rightfully, genuinely and effectively check me) in due time, at the right time, scares the crap out of me. It will happen and I will get there, though. Patience.
02 February 2011
Braggadocia: The Good, the Bad and the Supposedly Ugly
Forgive me, readers, for at this moment I am highly annoyed with a Friend who has lost more than half of her starting weight over the past year and loves to talk about it on Facebook. I've been irritated with her for the past six months actually, as she's started posting about it more and more, culminating in today's crowning (er, crowing) glory about how great her ass looks in the smallest pant size she's ever bought. In theory, at least, I want to be happy for this friend for what seems to have been a big accomplishment in her life, so on and so forth. In reality, I get sozzled every single time I read her posts.
For starters, the last time I checked it was considered a bit gauche to brag. Saying you're proud of yourself for losing weight is one thing and saying how awesome your tush looks in the wee pants you just bought is quite another.
As I'm wont to do, I soul-searched a little about why else this friend's very public updates about her weight loss bug me. As someone who is also striving to lose weight, and purposefully doing so very quietly, it makes me uncomfortable. Moreso, as someone who believes in fat acceptance it pisses me off. When formerly-fat folks are so completely happy about not being "fat" anymore it just feeds into our culture's infinite fat-hating loop.
Let me just state again, this time in much more vague terms, that being happy that you met your goal of losing X amount of pounds is one thing while being happy that you're no longer "fat" - and therefore ugly, not worthy of true love, worthless and all the other things the fat-hating loop tells us is wrong about being fat - is quite another.
(Yes, I know that it didn't sound like my Friend stated or insinuated any of this in her post... it is my personal experiences with her that lay the foundation for this rant.)
This, of course, is a battle for me that will never be won. I can wish and pray and hope and blog and talk all I want about the fat-hating loop needing to change or stop, but it won't. It's infinite and it's powerful. It might even have had roots in the well-meaning at some point, which is a truth and fact that even I, as a fat person, acknowledge: that we need to strive for overall health, both physical or mental.
Sidenote: if you hate yourself for the way you look, your mental health probably needs to be looked at (eg. by a therapist). It's maybe normal, or at least normative in this culture, especially for women, to hate the way you look sometimes or for certain periods of your life... but to hate yourself for what you are? Or in the case of those who have lost weight - hate yourself for what you were? It might be normal but in my opinion, no way to live your life.
**********
So, um, speaking of bragging. As of today, I'm down 13 lbs from my mid-November start. It's an odd number in that I honestly never thought I'd make it past the original goal of ten. It's been fucking with my head a little, to be honest. I put on my jeans every morning and definitely notice that they are looser (which is nice because at the height of my weight it was Camel Toe City) but they are not so loose as to necessitate buying a size smaller. That will be a weird day when it comes, trust. This was completely the point of doing slow and quiet loss, though - that my mind needs time to catch up with body reality. I don't do change and transition easily and it's often crossed my mind that I'm even losing TOO fast. My goal was 1/2 lb a week and I'm averaging at just over a pound a week. However, I hold steadfastly to my thought about this entire process: it has to be doable in the moment and sustainable for the long term. I think I'm good to go.
Speaking of doable and sustainable -- can I just tell you how much glee I feel when I hear dieters around me say, "I really shouldn't" to a tasty treat that has been proferred? I want to shout outloud, "Well, I WILL!" As I'm dedicated to being quiet and self-oriented with this process, I don't actually shout that, but I do take said tasty treat and put it in my piehole. "Dieting" isn't worth not having treats, in my opinion. I know I'm a broken record on this one so I'll leave it at that.
Or not. Earlier today, the guy who resides a few cubes down - He Who Is On A Perpetual Diet - ate his requisite microwaved Lean Cuisine for lunch and then complained to his cube mate that, "that sure was not a lot of food for 250 calories." Um, ya think? 250 calories is a pittance for lunch and god forbid he pick up a piece of fruit to supplement it but oh right, I forgot... fruit has carbs. It's exactly when I get a self-satisfied grin on my face and think, "Too bad for you, dude. For lunch I just had homemade mashed potatoes, sauteed green beans and tofu, the biggest and most gorgeous Cara Cara orange you've ever laid eyes on, AND I'mma have a chocolate soy pudding cup for an afternoon treat. Suck on those 550 calories."
For starters, the last time I checked it was considered a bit gauche to brag. Saying you're proud of yourself for losing weight is one thing and saying how awesome your tush looks in the wee pants you just bought is quite another.
As I'm wont to do, I soul-searched a little about why else this friend's very public updates about her weight loss bug me. As someone who is also striving to lose weight, and purposefully doing so very quietly, it makes me uncomfortable. Moreso, as someone who believes in fat acceptance it pisses me off. When formerly-fat folks are so completely happy about not being "fat" anymore it just feeds into our culture's infinite fat-hating loop.
Let me just state again, this time in much more vague terms, that being happy that you met your goal of losing X amount of pounds is one thing while being happy that you're no longer "fat" - and therefore ugly, not worthy of true love, worthless and all the other things the fat-hating loop tells us is wrong about being fat - is quite another.
(Yes, I know that it didn't sound like my Friend stated or insinuated any of this in her post... it is my personal experiences with her that lay the foundation for this rant.)
This, of course, is a battle for me that will never be won. I can wish and pray and hope and blog and talk all I want about the fat-hating loop needing to change or stop, but it won't. It's infinite and it's powerful. It might even have had roots in the well-meaning at some point, which is a truth and fact that even I, as a fat person, acknowledge: that we need to strive for overall health, both physical or mental.
Sidenote: if you hate yourself for the way you look, your mental health probably needs to be looked at (eg. by a therapist). It's maybe normal, or at least normative in this culture, especially for women, to hate the way you look sometimes or for certain periods of your life... but to hate yourself for what you are? Or in the case of those who have lost weight - hate yourself for what you were? It might be normal but in my opinion, no way to live your life.
**********
So, um, speaking of bragging. As of today, I'm down 13 lbs from my mid-November start. It's an odd number in that I honestly never thought I'd make it past the original goal of ten. It's been fucking with my head a little, to be honest. I put on my jeans every morning and definitely notice that they are looser (which is nice because at the height of my weight it was Camel Toe City) but they are not so loose as to necessitate buying a size smaller. That will be a weird day when it comes, trust. This was completely the point of doing slow and quiet loss, though - that my mind needs time to catch up with body reality. I don't do change and transition easily and it's often crossed my mind that I'm even losing TOO fast. My goal was 1/2 lb a week and I'm averaging at just over a pound a week. However, I hold steadfastly to my thought about this entire process: it has to be doable in the moment and sustainable for the long term. I think I'm good to go.
Speaking of doable and sustainable -- can I just tell you how much glee I feel when I hear dieters around me say, "I really shouldn't" to a tasty treat that has been proferred? I want to shout outloud, "Well, I WILL!" As I'm dedicated to being quiet and self-oriented with this process, I don't actually shout that, but I do take said tasty treat and put it in my piehole. "Dieting" isn't worth not having treats, in my opinion. I know I'm a broken record on this one so I'll leave it at that.
Or not. Earlier today, the guy who resides a few cubes down - He Who Is On A Perpetual Diet - ate his requisite microwaved Lean Cuisine for lunch and then complained to his cube mate that, "that sure was not a lot of food for 250 calories." Um, ya think? 250 calories is a pittance for lunch and god forbid he pick up a piece of fruit to supplement it but oh right, I forgot... fruit has carbs. It's exactly when I get a self-satisfied grin on my face and think, "Too bad for you, dude. For lunch I just had homemade mashed potatoes, sauteed green beans and tofu, the biggest and most gorgeous Cara Cara orange you've ever laid eyes on, AND I'mma have a chocolate soy pudding cup for an afternoon treat. Suck on those 550 calories."
20 December 2010
Have I drank the weight loss Koolaid?
This is the question I grapple with the most lately. I still have the same aversion to seeing Yahoo! News ("news") postings about The Biggest Loser and it's latest round of winners (er, losers?). Although, if I'm being honest, a perverse part of me always wants to look at the before and after pictures, much the same way I'll be at the salon and flip through the "I've Kept It Off For a Year!" issue of People while my hair cooks.
After reading the offending post in Two Whole Cakes last week, I felt so incensed by what felt like judgement towards those formerly/fat people who diet in the same way judgement gets thrown at fatties for NOT dieting. Must we turn on eachother? Can't we all just get along?
I was always one of those people who judged those who diet... maybe not in any sort of hard core outwardly-judgey way, but definitely in the sense that I'd think a disapproving "Mmmm-hmmm, whatever" in my head when dealing with the offending dieters talking about their diets. Balance in everything, though, and I still feel that big "whatever" when dieters can only seem to talk about how they're perpetually dieting and how many calories that chocolate bar has and how they "need to lose ten pounds in a week before the trip to France because all those women over there are so super-duper tiny!" (The latter is something directly from a coworker's mouth just last week, causing many internal eyerolls in the moment and, well, since.) The only difference now is that I can slightly relate to it. I'm 33 days into calorie-tracking and the novelty of how many calories refried beans have and how many calories circuit training burns has thankfully worn off a bit.
I woke up this morning and thought again about the TWC piece, albeit in much less indignant fashion. What struck me today was that the blogger even chose to rebuttal to that particular article. Granted, I only read what TWC quoted and most of the first page of the actual piece, but I kept thinking, Why would you choose to tear a person down who published something extremely vulnerable about having been fat? It just seems a bit cold.
Of course, I just read page two of the article and had to stop because the eye rolling began. It's not as pro-fat as I thought. I could see how it's perfect fodder for TWC, although I still don't agree with the snarky way TWC decided to rebut. Again: balance. I could see some good in the article, I could see some bad. In the end it's just one person's account of her own personal journey, along with her own associated opinions. None of us are perfect.
I keep wondering if there is an inevitable change in fat acceptance headspace when one who never-ever wanted to diet starts to lose weight, a la the author of the Alternet article. Is there a tipping point where you start to hate your own fat and want it off your body, which propels you to keep losing? I'll admit I've felt this several times over the course of the last month. Instead of pushing forward with trying to love my body as it is, I've felt irritated by it. This has had an especially unfortunate effect on my sex life, as now I don't feel like I can completely enjoy being naked. Again, instead of pushing through and either trying to love my body as it looks now, or at the very least completely ignore that I even have a body, I'm now hyper-conscious. That's not cool.
Here's the part where my scale tips back the other way, no pun intended. If at first I had to eschew the fat acceptance movement a bit to make some progress, and it had to eschew me for eschewing it, now I feel like I need to come back to my acceptance roots if I have any hope of making further progress without being miserable. I do need to remember to love my body for how it is today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. I need to remember that fat - and diversity - is beautiful, not inherently dangerous. I need to remember that striving to lose weight is a choice that I've made, not a mandate I must follow. I need to remember those thoughts and several others, too, as this holiday season progresses.
Speaking of which, I'm going to my parents house to celebrate Christmas... the land of a million sweets and no exercise. I doubt there's a scale in their house, and NO I'm not going to bring mine with me. It'll be weird to take a break from climbing onto that scale every morning after my shower. It'll be weird to take a break from my careful breakfasts and lunches, and to have yet another balls-out holiday dinner. I'm holding out hope that I can sneak in just one workout in four days time and maybe even maintain the poundage I've lost. But, something tells me I'm gonna need the proverbial bigger boat. We'll see what happens.
After reading the offending post in Two Whole Cakes last week, I felt so incensed by what felt like judgement towards those formerly/fat people who diet in the same way judgement gets thrown at fatties for NOT dieting. Must we turn on eachother? Can't we all just get along?
I was always one of those people who judged those who diet... maybe not in any sort of hard core outwardly-judgey way, but definitely in the sense that I'd think a disapproving "Mmmm-hmmm, whatever" in my head when dealing with the offending dieters talking about their diets. Balance in everything, though, and I still feel that big "whatever" when dieters can only seem to talk about how they're perpetually dieting and how many calories that chocolate bar has and how they "need to lose ten pounds in a week before the trip to France because all those women over there are so super-duper tiny!" (The latter is something directly from a coworker's mouth just last week, causing many internal eyerolls in the moment and, well, since.) The only difference now is that I can slightly relate to it. I'm 33 days into calorie-tracking and the novelty of how many calories refried beans have and how many calories circuit training burns has thankfully worn off a bit.
I woke up this morning and thought again about the TWC piece, albeit in much less indignant fashion. What struck me today was that the blogger even chose to rebuttal to that particular article. Granted, I only read what TWC quoted and most of the first page of the actual piece, but I kept thinking, Why would you choose to tear a person down who published something extremely vulnerable about having been fat? It just seems a bit cold.
Of course, I just read page two of the article and had to stop because the eye rolling began. It's not as pro-fat as I thought. I could see how it's perfect fodder for TWC, although I still don't agree with the snarky way TWC decided to rebut. Again: balance. I could see some good in the article, I could see some bad. In the end it's just one person's account of her own personal journey, along with her own associated opinions. None of us are perfect.
I keep wondering if there is an inevitable change in fat acceptance headspace when one who never-ever wanted to diet starts to lose weight, a la the author of the Alternet article. Is there a tipping point where you start to hate your own fat and want it off your body, which propels you to keep losing? I'll admit I've felt this several times over the course of the last month. Instead of pushing forward with trying to love my body as it is, I've felt irritated by it. This has had an especially unfortunate effect on my sex life, as now I don't feel like I can completely enjoy being naked. Again, instead of pushing through and either trying to love my body as it looks now, or at the very least completely ignore that I even have a body, I'm now hyper-conscious. That's not cool.
Here's the part where my scale tips back the other way, no pun intended. If at first I had to eschew the fat acceptance movement a bit to make some progress, and it had to eschew me for eschewing it, now I feel like I need to come back to my acceptance roots if I have any hope of making further progress without being miserable. I do need to remember to love my body for how it is today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. I need to remember that fat - and diversity - is beautiful, not inherently dangerous. I need to remember that striving to lose weight is a choice that I've made, not a mandate I must follow. I need to remember those thoughts and several others, too, as this holiday season progresses.
Speaking of which, I'm going to my parents house to celebrate Christmas... the land of a million sweets and no exercise. I doubt there's a scale in their house, and NO I'm not going to bring mine with me. It'll be weird to take a break from climbing onto that scale every morning after my shower. It'll be weird to take a break from my careful breakfasts and lunches, and to have yet another balls-out holiday dinner. I'm holding out hope that I can sneak in just one workout in four days time and maybe even maintain the poundage I've lost. But, something tells me I'm gonna need the proverbial bigger boat. We'll see what happens.
14 December 2010
It's official!
I'm no longer a Fat Acceptance blogger! Nor should I really be part of any Fat Acceptance movement!
Phew, I feel so much better getting that off my chest.
It all started this morning. As I'm wont to do, I woke up from crazy dreams to sit bolt upright and have a major revelation about life. I've been struggling for awhile about a few "things", trying to make sense of them and come to a resolution sooner rather than later. Resolve can't be forced, though, at least not in my life, in the way I process information and issues. Well, BAM. Revelation. It always happens eventually.
I'm having an identity crisis. Of course. And on multiple fronts. In fact, all those "things" I'm dealing with... each is a piece of the identity I've constructed for myself over the past 10-20 years, all of which no longer really fit into the grand puzzle that is me. Fat Acceptance activism is one of those things, for sure. I started to realize and come to grips with that about a month ago when I posted about the formation of this blog. I just didn't quite realize how deeply I would end up feeling about it: deeply conflicted, deeply shameful and deeply lost.
I can't tell you how many times Yoga Trainer and I went around and around about my losing weight. Me saying that I felt conflicted since I consider myself part of the Fat Acceptance movement, and him replying that that shouldn't matter. When I made the decision to start calorie-tracking a month ago, I still felt very conflicted. Deeply conflicted, to be precise. However, unlike times previous, I didn't let it stop me from going forth.
Flash forward to today's lunch hour. I have a file of all the websites and blogs I like to peruse daily, one of which is Two Whole Cakes. (I've mentioned this blog in a few earlier posts as well.) I was bowled over by TWC when I first found the blog, because Lesley Kinsel writes about fat politics in the exact manner I always wanted to on this very blog. I found her funny and personal and super smart. I still do, sometimes, agree with her, like in this post about the latest fat girl on Glee. Mostly, though, her blog has started the slow, painful decent from my Lunchtime bookmarks list into the Recycle Bin. The post that killed me today was this one, specifically the section entitled "The confounding". As what I'm doing currently could be called "dieting", I'm apparently not allowed to bring it up in Fat Acceptance circles. Alrighty then, lesson learned! This blog can apparently no longer be about Fat Acceptance because the fact that I'm trying to change the shape of my own personal body, for my own deeply personal reasons, negates the fact that I still believe that there ought to be, in Lesley's own words, "noisy inquiry into what our culture tells us about bodies, ours and other people’s." The cruel irony here, of course, is that I just quoted Lesley in another previous posting, as part of the reason I decided to go ahead with losing some weight. In retrospect, I think I misunderstood what she was trying to say.
Sure, it's just one person's opinion but it's a loud one, one that I previously respected and one that likely speaks for many in the movement. This is honestly why I tend to eschew "movements" in general. (Except for bowel, hee.) In the end, though, please rest assured this isn't really about Lesley and what she says. Lesley's words were just the straw that broke this camel's back.
While I do feel the slightest bit bitter about all this, it's actually more of a relief than anything. Fat Acceptance, at least for the forseeable future, is greatly important to me. Not holding myself to a standard that was more of a moving target than anything else is the part that's the relief.
The previously mentioned deeply shamed and deeply lost parts of me are vastly more concerning. Expressing myself through words and pictures has always been part of my life, since the moment I could put crayon to paper and pencil to newsprint. This is not my only current blog and there have been many attempts at many blogs over the years, but this is the one that always had the finest point, has held the most weight and interest for me, and is the one that's stood the test of time. Nothing lasts forever, though, and I've been wondering if it's time to close up shop. But... it makes me feel like a failure to do so. When I started, I had pretty good readership from people I both knew and had never met. Just recently I looked on my Site Meter statistics and realized that no one really reads this anymore. I get maybe one hit a day, and the days where the hits spike are the days where I'm going back to edit previous posts. Not that readership should necessarily drive the blog, but why would I choose to keep blogging about something I'm no longer passionate about on a blog that no one reads? I might as well keep a journal. OR, just move it all over to my other blog. We'll see how it shakes out.
Phew, I feel so much better getting that off my chest.
It all started this morning. As I'm wont to do, I woke up from crazy dreams to sit bolt upright and have a major revelation about life. I've been struggling for awhile about a few "things", trying to make sense of them and come to a resolution sooner rather than later. Resolve can't be forced, though, at least not in my life, in the way I process information and issues. Well, BAM. Revelation. It always happens eventually.
I'm having an identity crisis. Of course. And on multiple fronts. In fact, all those "things" I'm dealing with... each is a piece of the identity I've constructed for myself over the past 10-20 years, all of which no longer really fit into the grand puzzle that is me. Fat Acceptance activism is one of those things, for sure. I started to realize and come to grips with that about a month ago when I posted about the formation of this blog. I just didn't quite realize how deeply I would end up feeling about it: deeply conflicted, deeply shameful and deeply lost.
I can't tell you how many times Yoga Trainer and I went around and around about my losing weight. Me saying that I felt conflicted since I consider myself part of the Fat Acceptance movement, and him replying that that shouldn't matter. When I made the decision to start calorie-tracking a month ago, I still felt very conflicted. Deeply conflicted, to be precise. However, unlike times previous, I didn't let it stop me from going forth.
Flash forward to today's lunch hour. I have a file of all the websites and blogs I like to peruse daily, one of which is Two Whole Cakes. (I've mentioned this blog in a few earlier posts as well.) I was bowled over by TWC when I first found the blog, because Lesley Kinsel writes about fat politics in the exact manner I always wanted to on this very blog. I found her funny and personal and super smart. I still do, sometimes, agree with her, like in this post about the latest fat girl on Glee. Mostly, though, her blog has started the slow, painful decent from my Lunchtime bookmarks list into the Recycle Bin. The post that killed me today was this one, specifically the section entitled "The confounding". As what I'm doing currently could be called "dieting", I'm apparently not allowed to bring it up in Fat Acceptance circles. Alrighty then, lesson learned! This blog can apparently no longer be about Fat Acceptance because the fact that I'm trying to change the shape of my own personal body, for my own deeply personal reasons, negates the fact that I still believe that there ought to be, in Lesley's own words, "noisy inquiry into what our culture tells us about bodies, ours and other people’s." The cruel irony here, of course, is that I just quoted Lesley in another previous posting, as part of the reason I decided to go ahead with losing some weight. In retrospect, I think I misunderstood what she was trying to say.
Sure, it's just one person's opinion but it's a loud one, one that I previously respected and one that likely speaks for many in the movement. This is honestly why I tend to eschew "movements" in general. (Except for bowel, hee.) In the end, though, please rest assured this isn't really about Lesley and what she says. Lesley's words were just the straw that broke this camel's back.
While I do feel the slightest bit bitter about all this, it's actually more of a relief than anything. Fat Acceptance, at least for the forseeable future, is greatly important to me. Not holding myself to a standard that was more of a moving target than anything else is the part that's the relief.
The previously mentioned deeply shamed and deeply lost parts of me are vastly more concerning. Expressing myself through words and pictures has always been part of my life, since the moment I could put crayon to paper and pencil to newsprint. This is not my only current blog and there have been many attempts at many blogs over the years, but this is the one that always had the finest point, has held the most weight and interest for me, and is the one that's stood the test of time. Nothing lasts forever, though, and I've been wondering if it's time to close up shop. But... it makes me feel like a failure to do so. When I started, I had pretty good readership from people I both knew and had never met. Just recently I looked on my Site Meter statistics and realized that no one really reads this anymore. I get maybe one hit a day, and the days where the hits spike are the days where I'm going back to edit previous posts. Not that readership should necessarily drive the blog, but why would I choose to keep blogging about something I'm no longer passionate about on a blog that no one reads? I might as well keep a journal. OR, just move it all over to my other blog. We'll see how it shakes out.
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