Please tell me there's not something wrong with me...that I'm not hopelessly sick and dying because I'm so fat.
Please tell me I can lose weight. I may never have gone a year of my life without gaining. My dress size has always just about matched my age. I want it to stop. I'm tired of buying new clothes when i never got to wear the old ones
Please tell me these hideous stretch marks will go away. They prove to me that I'm out of control, that I'm ugly, that I can't show my body off, that I don't want to
Please tell me there's a diet that works. Or explain to me why every one of the friends I've seen attempt to lose weight have been stunningly successful
Please tell me I have the willpower to really do something instead of wallow in my hatred and sadness believing there's no way out
Please tell me I'm not trapped here hopeless for ever
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
Pants
I'm really, really tired of putting on pants that are loose enough to need a belt when I stand up, and tight enough to bite without one when I sit down.
That is all.
That is all.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Hopeless
I learned a lot of things from the Fat Acceptance blogs I read when anyone was still posting.
I learned that it was more than possible to be fat and healthy at the same time.
I learned that so many people out in the internet wanted to support each other and see each other through.
I learned that BMI is relatively meaningless, that I could ask for a bigger blood pressure cuff and my score was normal, that I could tell a doctor I wasn't interested in discussing my weight and they would respect that.
But I learned a lot of other things.
I learned that should I choose to lose weight, it would never work. That 95% of people who lose weight re-gain it in five years or less.
I learned that if I went to a doctor to do something about my weight, I could expect them to see my number and nothing else. That if I'm scared there's something legitimately wrong, I can't even think about bringing it up until I've tried to diet and exercise first.
I learned that there's basically no hope in the world that I could change my body now that I'm starting to want to.
I have horrible stretch marks all over my belly and my arms.
I think I've gained at least 50 pounds in the last 5 years.
None of my pants fit. My shirts are getting too short. Everything is tight and awful.
I can't like this
I can't like myself like this. I can't be okay with how clumsy and chafing and uncomfortable and ugly I am.
And I spent so much time learning that there was nothing I could do to make it better.
I learned that it was more than possible to be fat and healthy at the same time.
I learned that so many people out in the internet wanted to support each other and see each other through.
I learned that BMI is relatively meaningless, that I could ask for a bigger blood pressure cuff and my score was normal, that I could tell a doctor I wasn't interested in discussing my weight and they would respect that.
But I learned a lot of other things.
I learned that should I choose to lose weight, it would never work. That 95% of people who lose weight re-gain it in five years or less.
I learned that if I went to a doctor to do something about my weight, I could expect them to see my number and nothing else. That if I'm scared there's something legitimately wrong, I can't even think about bringing it up until I've tried to diet and exercise first.
I learned that there's basically no hope in the world that I could change my body now that I'm starting to want to.
I have horrible stretch marks all over my belly and my arms.
I think I've gained at least 50 pounds in the last 5 years.
None of my pants fit. My shirts are getting too short. Everything is tight and awful.
I can't like this
I can't like myself like this. I can't be okay with how clumsy and chafing and uncomfortable and ugly I am.
And I spent so much time learning that there was nothing I could do to make it better.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Becoming Our Mothers
My grandmother is a very large person. For all the years I've known her, she's been big, and to the best of my knowledge (my little-kid memory not being reliable) she has at points gotten bigger. Several years ago she was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. A few years after that, I learned that she had trouble moving. She and my grandfather had a personal trainer come to try to help them, but they did very little exercise and had trouble just getting around the house sometimes. A couple of years ago, she fell very ill, and subsequently she and my grandfather moved into an assisted living facility. She needs more help than he does - these days she's in a wheelchair.
I have a memory of being very young, probably no more than six or seven, and telling my grandma that I loved her because she was so soft. When I was small enough, I could crawl into her lap and she was like a big, warm pillow, and I loved that about her.
But for as long as I can really remember, my mother has been terrified of becoming my grandmother. I remember her mentioning that as a driving force behind her big weight-loss push. She wasn't going to end up sedentary and fat and sick like her mother. She was going to get healthy, she was going to lose weight, and those things were synonymous. I can't say for sure, I'm not in my mom's head, but I sometimes get the distinct impression that she was embarrassed just to be seen with my grandmother out in public, with her walker and her difficulties. She gave her mom the space and time and accommodations she needed, of course, but I have this lingering feeling that it was unwillingly, grudgingly, maybe even with a hint of disgust.
Well, she doesn't seem likely to grow up to be my grandmother. She's a success story - the day she reached her Weight Watcher's goal, she tattooed their symbol on her wrist, and she's sure that she'll never regain. I hope for her sake that she's right.
But I noticed something the last time I saw my grandmother in person. She's not well, certainly. She has diabetes, she has trouble moving. But she's not THAT fat, not like I remembered. She's shorter, but not really appreciably fatter than many of my friends, who may not be the single fittest people in the world but don't have her mobility issues. She isn't the cartoonish, balloonish kind of fat that I think my mother imagines. And though I don't know any of the real details of her sicknesses, I get the feeling that she would have the same issues if she were lighter. I know that the diabetes runs in the family, since my grandmother's father had it.
Meanwhile, I'm looking at my mom. I think about the strict food policing, what's acceptable to eat when, and god forbid you be hungry for something substantial after the time for meals has passed. I think about the justifications, the way she seems to make sure to mention her running to the waiter when she orders; the steamed chicken with steamed vegetables and no sauce she orders when we get Chinese food; the time she called the manufacturer to get the calorie count on a single chocolate Santa Claus before she could eat it; the way my eyes opened when I realized water was better for me than the diet soda I'd been taught to drink, and that the occasional glass of orange juice or full-fat milk could be healthier than diet coke, too.
I'm afraid of becoming my mother. I want to be healthy (even if I balk at the work I still have to do, to really learn about nutrition, learn how to shop, make time to exercise). I'd still be very happy to lose weight even, if it happened as part of getting healthier. But I'm so afraid that if I make it a goal, I'll turn into her. I'll have to keep perfect track of everything, I'll obsess and make poor choices and ignore my mental health. I've had better role-models for healthy eating, intuitive or planned, but the first model of how to diet I had was my mom, and I'm afraid of slipping back to it.
I wonder how much of any of our fears has to do with weight and health specifically, or whether people in general just never want to be their parents. But either way, this is the issue that I've inherited.
I have a memory of being very young, probably no more than six or seven, and telling my grandma that I loved her because she was so soft. When I was small enough, I could crawl into her lap and she was like a big, warm pillow, and I loved that about her.
But for as long as I can really remember, my mother has been terrified of becoming my grandmother. I remember her mentioning that as a driving force behind her big weight-loss push. She wasn't going to end up sedentary and fat and sick like her mother. She was going to get healthy, she was going to lose weight, and those things were synonymous. I can't say for sure, I'm not in my mom's head, but I sometimes get the distinct impression that she was embarrassed just to be seen with my grandmother out in public, with her walker and her difficulties. She gave her mom the space and time and accommodations she needed, of course, but I have this lingering feeling that it was unwillingly, grudgingly, maybe even with a hint of disgust.
Well, she doesn't seem likely to grow up to be my grandmother. She's a success story - the day she reached her Weight Watcher's goal, she tattooed their symbol on her wrist, and she's sure that she'll never regain. I hope for her sake that she's right.
But I noticed something the last time I saw my grandmother in person. She's not well, certainly. She has diabetes, she has trouble moving. But she's not THAT fat, not like I remembered. She's shorter, but not really appreciably fatter than many of my friends, who may not be the single fittest people in the world but don't have her mobility issues. She isn't the cartoonish, balloonish kind of fat that I think my mother imagines. And though I don't know any of the real details of her sicknesses, I get the feeling that she would have the same issues if she were lighter. I know that the diabetes runs in the family, since my grandmother's father had it.
Meanwhile, I'm looking at my mom. I think about the strict food policing, what's acceptable to eat when, and god forbid you be hungry for something substantial after the time for meals has passed. I think about the justifications, the way she seems to make sure to mention her running to the waiter when she orders; the steamed chicken with steamed vegetables and no sauce she orders when we get Chinese food; the time she called the manufacturer to get the calorie count on a single chocolate Santa Claus before she could eat it; the way my eyes opened when I realized water was better for me than the diet soda I'd been taught to drink, and that the occasional glass of orange juice or full-fat milk could be healthier than diet coke, too.
I'm afraid of becoming my mother. I want to be healthy (even if I balk at the work I still have to do, to really learn about nutrition, learn how to shop, make time to exercise). I'd still be very happy to lose weight even, if it happened as part of getting healthier. But I'm so afraid that if I make it a goal, I'll turn into her. I'll have to keep perfect track of everything, I'll obsess and make poor choices and ignore my mental health. I've had better role-models for healthy eating, intuitive or planned, but the first model of how to diet I had was my mom, and I'm afraid of slipping back to it.
I wonder how much of any of our fears has to do with weight and health specifically, or whether people in general just never want to be their parents. But either way, this is the issue that I've inherited.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Bites
"Okay, we'll get back in the car and figure out whose sandwich is whose, and then I get bites from everyone."
By the end of my weekend vacation with my family, I got completely and utterly tired of my mom's demands for tastes of everything anyone else ordered. I don't usually mind sharing my food, but by the end of the trip, I found the nerve to tell her to her face that I wanted her to ask me for it. Three days of "I'm going to take a bite" grated badly, the unquestionable, unarguable fact that mom will eat from our plates.
Part of this, I'm sure, is part of my mother's sense of entitlement, that as the head of her family she has the authority to make decisions on her own, from when our doctor appointments are to what movie we're seeing to when my brothers get their hair cut - which is really not the topic of this blog.
But part of it is from what I'm increasingly worried is an obsession with food since her last Weight Watchers bout. It seems to have worked for her - she's taken up running and dieting, lost a bunch of weight and kept it off for a few years. I don't want to take that away from her. I don't want her to keep asking if I want her to finance a WW subscription for me, but I really don't want to take her weight loss away from her. That's not the point of this post either.
It's the fact that I noticed her eyeing food all weekend. I recognize the look - that's the "I'm still hungry and I'm hoping you don't eat that so I can" look. I like to hope that I've been giving other peoples' plates that look less since I've tried to feel better about feeding myself enough, but I often under-order at restaurants out of some self-consciousness, and wind up still hungry at the end of the course.
I saw that look and the way my mother demanded that she get to try everything else. Not, I think, that she would admit that she was hungry, or just that she wanted it. It reminds me of a dinner last December, during which she got increasingly agitated that none of the rest of the family wanted onion rings.
"Just order them," we told her, "don't worry about it."
But she was clearly distressed at ordering something - something fatty and 'bad' - that only she wanted. She ended up eating half the basket and begging the waitress to take the rest away.
All during the trip, she made sure to order 'good' food. Broiled seafood, never fried. Talapia fish, never anything more robust. Oatmeal for breakfast, no meat. She's long since mastered the art of what you're supposed to eat, and orders the things on the menu billed as the healthiest. Then she finishes her own meal, and stares at ours.
It feels like she doesn't want to 'own' the food. She can't accept really wanting onion rings, fried shrimp, an extra meal, a muffin, whatever it is. It feels increasingly like she won't allow herself to consider getting one of her own. But if it's on our plates, if it's just a bite, it doesn't count. It doesn't have to be tracked and accounted for, it doesn't have to make her guilty. It isn't hers.
So she'll demand, or wait, or in some way find a bite.
I don't know if this is the truth. But I know I recognized something in what she was doing, at all our various meals. And it's not something healthy.
By the end of my weekend vacation with my family, I got completely and utterly tired of my mom's demands for tastes of everything anyone else ordered. I don't usually mind sharing my food, but by the end of the trip, I found the nerve to tell her to her face that I wanted her to ask me for it. Three days of "I'm going to take a bite" grated badly, the unquestionable, unarguable fact that mom will eat from our plates.
Part of this, I'm sure, is part of my mother's sense of entitlement, that as the head of her family she has the authority to make decisions on her own, from when our doctor appointments are to what movie we're seeing to when my brothers get their hair cut - which is really not the topic of this blog.
But part of it is from what I'm increasingly worried is an obsession with food since her last Weight Watchers bout. It seems to have worked for her - she's taken up running and dieting, lost a bunch of weight and kept it off for a few years. I don't want to take that away from her. I don't want her to keep asking if I want her to finance a WW subscription for me, but I really don't want to take her weight loss away from her. That's not the point of this post either.
It's the fact that I noticed her eyeing food all weekend. I recognize the look - that's the "I'm still hungry and I'm hoping you don't eat that so I can" look. I like to hope that I've been giving other peoples' plates that look less since I've tried to feel better about feeding myself enough, but I often under-order at restaurants out of some self-consciousness, and wind up still hungry at the end of the course.
I saw that look and the way my mother demanded that she get to try everything else. Not, I think, that she would admit that she was hungry, or just that she wanted it. It reminds me of a dinner last December, during which she got increasingly agitated that none of the rest of the family wanted onion rings.
"Just order them," we told her, "don't worry about it."
But she was clearly distressed at ordering something - something fatty and 'bad' - that only she wanted. She ended up eating half the basket and begging the waitress to take the rest away.
All during the trip, she made sure to order 'good' food. Broiled seafood, never fried. Talapia fish, never anything more robust. Oatmeal for breakfast, no meat. She's long since mastered the art of what you're supposed to eat, and orders the things on the menu billed as the healthiest. Then she finishes her own meal, and stares at ours.
It feels like she doesn't want to 'own' the food. She can't accept really wanting onion rings, fried shrimp, an extra meal, a muffin, whatever it is. It feels increasingly like she won't allow herself to consider getting one of her own. But if it's on our plates, if it's just a bite, it doesn't count. It doesn't have to be tracked and accounted for, it doesn't have to make her guilty. It isn't hers.
So she'll demand, or wait, or in some way find a bite.
I don't know if this is the truth. But I know I recognized something in what she was doing, at all our various meals. And it's not something healthy.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
More Things that Should be Documented
I'm not sure what there really is to say about this, but something has to be said. A facebook friend of mine recently posted a text message she'd gotten, by all accounts from a friend-of-a-friend she doesn't personally know. Photo under the cut, of a message spewing nothing but hatred, vitrol, and frankly lazy insults against fat people and women both.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Life-Long Battle
I remember the doctor who first told me
to lose weight. I was eleven at the time, and growing, and I remember
very little else. I don't know exactly how tall I was and what I
weighed, I barely remember how I ate and whether I thought about it.
But I remember what the doctor told me.
She told me I was going to have to start dieting. She told me I would
have to work actively just to maintain my current weight, that I
didn't have to LOSE as long as I didn't GAIN any more. She told me I
was going to have to work hard about my weight for the rest of my
life.
She told me I was going to face a
“life-long battle” with my weight.
At age 11.
I remember being horrified. I remember
protesting. I didn't want to spend my whole life fighting. I remember
even that first time wondering what the point was, if I would never
be able to win.
I tried dieting, I really earnestly
did. I was proud of myself for making up chicken salad sandwiches in
little pita breads, with celery pieces and everything. I look back
and I realize I was discovering cooking, not dieting; learning how
much better food is when you make it yourself and how much fun it is
to explore and experiment. But my recipes came out of a diet book for
preteens. I tried exercising. I promised myself 50 crunches every
day! And then my belly would be smaller! When I forgot the crunches,
and forgot the special meals, I soon gave up.
That's how my life has been really ever
since. I try to commit every so often to a regiment. I'll eat x
veggies every day. I'll go bike riding. I'll play wii sports. I'll do
whatever it is on a regular basis. And then I never do. I panic
myself, thinking that I can't keep it up, or I just forget and beat
myself up so hard that it seems easier to quit.
It's a pattern I haven't been able to
break 11 years later.
I bet she thought she was just giving
me realistic expectations. Don't try to lose 50 pounds in a month,
don't expect to be able to maintain by doing nothing. But she told me
it would be a life-long battle against my body to tame it into the
proper size.
I think so far, it's been a battle to
accept myself in case I can't be changed. It's been a battle to find
value in healthy food and regular exercise if it doesn't mean I'll
get smaller. To find clothes that fit me instead of shamefully buying
one size down and never wearing the clothes I should fit into. To
actually get healthy and break out of my many ruts, instead of
defeating myself at every turn with the idea that I can never rest,
can never break, can never stop fighting or I'll lose. To see my body as my ally, not my enemy.
It really is a life-long battle.
The Fantasy
Post under the cut for negativity. Negative self-talk, possibly disturbing imagery. Just things that won't leave my head and have to get out. Just because I write about fat acceptance doesn't mean I believe it all the time
Sunday, May 27, 2012
This Past Week
So I've been having the one of the most annoying maladies I've ever seen. I don't know if I was even actually sick, and it's tapering off, but for a good week and a half, I've been having the same issue - I can't get full.
As of now, it's more likely that I'm actually not eating enough, and my hunger cues might be returning to normal.
But take Sunday for an example. This seemed to be the worst of the deal, and it was already a few days into the weirdness. I had woken up early to meet my parents for brunch, since my mom was running a race nearby. I don't usually eat in the mornings, and I was feeling my normal level of instability and undecided stomach. Until I found a banana at the race, and started to eat.
You know that feeling when you take your first bite, and your body wakes up and says "Yeah, we were really hungry, we were just being polite and not whining about it"? It was like that, but to such an extreme that I actually doubled over a little with the pain of the hunger pang. Each bite I swallowed, I got another pang like that. I still didn't feel hungry per se, but I had to be if I was feeling like that right?
And then the same sensation happened when I drank some lemon water back at their hotel, while we prepared for brunch. The same painful hunger pangs when I swallowed, feeling like it wanted ALL THE FOOD and NO MORE FOOD both at once.
I settled myself down as best I could, and eventually we got to brunch. I ordered a nice sandwich, dug in when it arrived. And maybe halfway through the meal, I was still panging. My body still reacted like this was the first food I had all day, and yet at the same time I was getting full, and feeling stuffed. A few hours after brunch, I was so weakly hungry that I choked down a granola bar, with similar results.
Even if it's getting better, I think I'm kinda paranoid now. I'd been doing so much better about trusting my cues, about assuming I do in fact need to eat if I'm hungry and not stressing overly-much about it. But for a good week I've been unable to trust, and been trying to objectively go over my food to figure out how much more I reasonably need, and how much of the "hunger" is just something wrong with my stomach. It's driving me batty, and it's really not stopping.
Maybe it's a good thing that I try to be aware of what I've actually taken in during the day, maybe it's something that's gone by the wayside as I tried out intuitive eating. But it's so very annoying to be stuck knowing, for a fact, I've eaten plenty, recently, and to have my body still whine for more. If I were actually sick maybe I wouldn't be worried, but the weird appetite has been my only symptom. So I don't know.
It just feels like such a step backward from the place I hoped I'd gotten myself to.
As of now, it's more likely that I'm actually not eating enough, and my hunger cues might be returning to normal.
But take Sunday for an example. This seemed to be the worst of the deal, and it was already a few days into the weirdness. I had woken up early to meet my parents for brunch, since my mom was running a race nearby. I don't usually eat in the mornings, and I was feeling my normal level of instability and undecided stomach. Until I found a banana at the race, and started to eat.
You know that feeling when you take your first bite, and your body wakes up and says "Yeah, we were really hungry, we were just being polite and not whining about it"? It was like that, but to such an extreme that I actually doubled over a little with the pain of the hunger pang. Each bite I swallowed, I got another pang like that. I still didn't feel hungry per se, but I had to be if I was feeling like that right?
And then the same sensation happened when I drank some lemon water back at their hotel, while we prepared for brunch. The same painful hunger pangs when I swallowed, feeling like it wanted ALL THE FOOD and NO MORE FOOD both at once.
I settled myself down as best I could, and eventually we got to brunch. I ordered a nice sandwich, dug in when it arrived. And maybe halfway through the meal, I was still panging. My body still reacted like this was the first food I had all day, and yet at the same time I was getting full, and feeling stuffed. A few hours after brunch, I was so weakly hungry that I choked down a granola bar, with similar results.
Even if it's getting better, I think I'm kinda paranoid now. I'd been doing so much better about trusting my cues, about assuming I do in fact need to eat if I'm hungry and not stressing overly-much about it. But for a good week I've been unable to trust, and been trying to objectively go over my food to figure out how much more I reasonably need, and how much of the "hunger" is just something wrong with my stomach. It's driving me batty, and it's really not stopping.
Maybe it's a good thing that I try to be aware of what I've actually taken in during the day, maybe it's something that's gone by the wayside as I tried out intuitive eating. But it's so very annoying to be stuck knowing, for a fact, I've eaten plenty, recently, and to have my body still whine for more. If I were actually sick maybe I wouldn't be worried, but the weird appetite has been my only symptom. So I don't know.
It just feels like such a step backward from the place I hoped I'd gotten myself to.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Food Diaries
I've been trying for a good few months now, if not longer, to acclimate my head to the idea of keeping a food diary. Write down everything I eat for a week or so, to get a sense of what kind of nutrition I'm getting, what I might be missing, and whether I'm actually eating ENOUGH food.
But although I really am trying to think differently, I can't shake the association of the food diary with the diet.
I can't remember now whether this was something I was actually taught, or something I learned inadvertently. But I was introduced to the idea when the doctor sent me to a nutritionist, for what were never diagnosed as binge-eating behaviors. The nutritionist never mentioned Binge Eating Disorder, if she'd ever heard of it, and focused on putting me on a diet. I remember being asked to keep the food diary so we knew what we were looking at, and where to make changes.
But I remember learning that the diary was a tool to keep me on the 'right' track. It was going to be shared with the doctor and my parents, so I knew I'd be in trouble in some way or another if I admitted to either the binges or the snacks I bought at school with my own money. Most of the time, I let the act of keeping the diary affect my choices, and didn't eat those things I would be ashamed to show. Sometimes, I just lied in the diary.
I know that if I keep a diary now, it'd be for my eyes only. But when I sat down yesterday to make an effort, just the act of writing it down still made me second-guess everything I was eating in that mean little voice.
"You had a bag of potato chips? I guess fries wouldn't have been better but still." "Really, storebought crackers? Don't you have anything else to snack on? It's only been two hours since lunch, I know you started writing me because you're having GI problems that affect your appetite, but still."
aaargh. I made it through exactly two entries before I (well, forgot about the existence of the new diary and) stopped.
This should be a useful tool for me to track my eating, and to see how well I'm progressing on getting what I need. This should be a great way to be mindful and healthy and find any potential issues that are making me unhealthier. Instead I just know that "I'd have to write it in my food diary" would become a reason not to have dessert.
Has anyone had luck re-framing anything like this?
But although I really am trying to think differently, I can't shake the association of the food diary with the diet.
I can't remember now whether this was something I was actually taught, or something I learned inadvertently. But I was introduced to the idea when the doctor sent me to a nutritionist, for what were never diagnosed as binge-eating behaviors. The nutritionist never mentioned Binge Eating Disorder, if she'd ever heard of it, and focused on putting me on a diet. I remember being asked to keep the food diary so we knew what we were looking at, and where to make changes.
But I remember learning that the diary was a tool to keep me on the 'right' track. It was going to be shared with the doctor and my parents, so I knew I'd be in trouble in some way or another if I admitted to either the binges or the snacks I bought at school with my own money. Most of the time, I let the act of keeping the diary affect my choices, and didn't eat those things I would be ashamed to show. Sometimes, I just lied in the diary.
I know that if I keep a diary now, it'd be for my eyes only. But when I sat down yesterday to make an effort, just the act of writing it down still made me second-guess everything I was eating in that mean little voice.
"You had a bag of potato chips? I guess fries wouldn't have been better but still." "Really, storebought crackers? Don't you have anything else to snack on? It's only been two hours since lunch, I know you started writing me because you're having GI problems that affect your appetite, but still."
aaargh. I made it through exactly two entries before I (well, forgot about the existence of the new diary and) stopped.
This should be a useful tool for me to track my eating, and to see how well I'm progressing on getting what I need. This should be a great way to be mindful and healthy and find any potential issues that are making me unhealthier. Instead I just know that "I'd have to write it in my food diary" would become a reason not to have dessert.
Has anyone had luck re-framing anything like this?
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Emotional Eating
(Hi new Blogger. You're lucky I like Googledocs or I might be more annoyed.
Re-post of a comment I made over at Katja's latest post The Feeding Doctor. There were a lot of things wrong with the website she critiques, and a lot of people rightly tore it apart, but i went on a tangent so I figure I'll throw it here. A couple of quoted comments from the site were clear on their stance against Emotional Eating - "TIP: If you’re not hungry, PUT DOWN THE FOOD.”
You know what I used to do when I was a kid on a diet and food outside of mealtimes/one allotted sweet snack was prohibited? I binged. I waited till I was alone in the house and ate everything I wanted, long past the point that I actually wanted to eat it.
You know what stopped my binging? Giving myself permission to have a few chocolates or cookies whenever I had a craving for them.
You know what helps me eat more protein, vegetables, and complex carbs, and less dessert-y food? I never eat dessert when I’m hungry. I’ve found that if I do, I eat too fast, don’t enjoy it and end up eating more, because I’m trying to fill up and it’s harder to do on pure sugar. If dessert is purely an “emotional” experience, I have less of it and take so much more joy.
You know what else I struggle with? Depression and self-injury(TW ahead). I’d love one of these people to look me in the eye and tell me that eating a bowl of ice cream when I’m upset is more unhealthy than biting and scratching my own skin. And the thing that really pisses me off is that I know plenty of them actually would.
Food is more than nutrition. Communal, celebratory, self-soothing, self-medicating and yes, Emotional eating is part of the good things in life. So yes, it can be an issue if you find yourself constantly eating without paying attention. But a blanket stance against ever eating for any reason other than hunger isn't the answer.
Re-post of a comment I made over at Katja's latest post The Feeding Doctor. There were a lot of things wrong with the website she critiques, and a lot of people rightly tore it apart, but i went on a tangent so I figure I'll throw it here. A couple of quoted comments from the site were clear on their stance against Emotional Eating - "TIP: If you’re not hungry, PUT DOWN THE FOOD.”
You know what I used to do when I was a kid on a diet and food outside of mealtimes/one allotted sweet snack was prohibited? I binged. I waited till I was alone in the house and ate everything I wanted, long past the point that I actually wanted to eat it.
You know what stopped my binging? Giving myself permission to have a few chocolates or cookies whenever I had a craving for them.
You know what helps me eat more protein, vegetables, and complex carbs, and less dessert-y food? I never eat dessert when I’m hungry. I’ve found that if I do, I eat too fast, don’t enjoy it and end up eating more, because I’m trying to fill up and it’s harder to do on pure sugar. If dessert is purely an “emotional” experience, I have less of it and take so much more joy.
You know what else I struggle with? Depression and self-injury(TW ahead). I’d love one of these people to look me in the eye and tell me that eating a bowl of ice cream when I’m upset is more unhealthy than biting and scratching my own skin. And the thing that really pisses me off is that I know plenty of them actually would.
Food is more than nutrition. Communal, celebratory, self-soothing, self-medicating and yes, Emotional eating is part of the good things in life. So yes, it can be an issue if you find yourself constantly eating without paying attention. But a blanket stance against ever eating for any reason other than hunger isn't the answer.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Ramble
I had a dream the other night where I stood up in a health class of some sort and tried to explain the problem with fat-shaming and such. Dream-me said, "Some think that fat people are just thin people who eat too much, instead of being fat people who eat fine." I can't tell whether it makes sense, or is right, but I'm surprised sometimes by what dream-me has the courage to say.
I feel like there's something to be said about some of what I'm hearing working at the chocolate store, but I'm not sure what there is. I already posted about "It must be dangerous to work here!"
With people making easter baskets, I'm getting a lot of policing language lately. "I don't want her to have THAT many." "I have to watch how much he gets." "I'd love a sample but I'm being good." It's not that I think anyone shouldn't have the right to all that -obviously it's up to parents to make decisions for their kids. But to get it over and over again.
I'm also getting a lot of "they say dark chocolate is good for you" lately, a weird upswing out of nowhere. People always say it like they're desperate to justify themselves. I had one or two "I'm trying to eat more dark chocolate because it's better" from people who prefer milk chocolate. I've also gotten the health benefits from the people who just like dark better, and think that makes them better than plebeian milk-chocolate eaters. (And you have no idea how many people I get who literally recoil from their free sample when I tell them it's milk chocolate.)
I have to ask about the loyalty program my store does to every customer. In response to the question, I had one guy burst out laughing. "You'd have to have a real problem to be a loyalty member at a chocolate store!"
There's also this widespread feeling of impossibility at the thought of a bag of chocolates lasting a little while. I suggest to people that they can just get a bag and make it last and they laugh, it'd never make it, they'd eat the whole bag, it's a funny suggestion. It feels like it's so normal in the world to deny, to treat treats as this volatile substance, to binge at any opportunity to have a lot. It's funny to people when I tell them they could just have a couple at a time.
I just wish I could say something to the people who come in trying to justify themselves, who assure me they don't shop here that often, who make sure they only get a few, who wouldn't dream of buying a whole bag, to make them feel better.
I feel like there's something to be said about some of what I'm hearing working at the chocolate store, but I'm not sure what there is. I already posted about "It must be dangerous to work here!"
With people making easter baskets, I'm getting a lot of policing language lately. "I don't want her to have THAT many." "I have to watch how much he gets." "I'd love a sample but I'm being good." It's not that I think anyone shouldn't have the right to all that -obviously it's up to parents to make decisions for their kids. But to get it over and over again.
I'm also getting a lot of "they say dark chocolate is good for you" lately, a weird upswing out of nowhere. People always say it like they're desperate to justify themselves. I had one or two "I'm trying to eat more dark chocolate because it's better" from people who prefer milk chocolate. I've also gotten the health benefits from the people who just like dark better, and think that makes them better than plebeian milk-chocolate eaters. (And you have no idea how many people I get who literally recoil from their free sample when I tell them it's milk chocolate.)
I have to ask about the loyalty program my store does to every customer. In response to the question, I had one guy burst out laughing. "You'd have to have a real problem to be a loyalty member at a chocolate store!"
There's also this widespread feeling of impossibility at the thought of a bag of chocolates lasting a little while. I suggest to people that they can just get a bag and make it last and they laugh, it'd never make it, they'd eat the whole bag, it's a funny suggestion. It feels like it's so normal in the world to deny, to treat treats as this volatile substance, to binge at any opportunity to have a lot. It's funny to people when I tell them they could just have a couple at a time.
I just wish I could say something to the people who come in trying to justify themselves, who assure me they don't shop here that often, who make sure they only get a few, who wouldn't dream of buying a whole bag, to make them feel better.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
What Worked
At dinner with the family last night, when the talk turned, as it inevitably does, to how bad mom is being for ordering her one order of onion rings all year, and how dad wants to stop eating french fries, and you remember Super-Size Me? Fries are so bad, oh man, it's the fries that kill you...
"I'm not really interested in discussing food we're not eating, while we're eating."
Everyone sort of laughed, and magically, the subject changed. Not too confrontational, not a big fight, something that did what it was supposed to! Hurrah!
"I'm not really interested in discussing food we're not eating, while we're eating."
Everyone sort of laughed, and magically, the subject changed. Not too confrontational, not a big fight, something that did what it was supposed to! Hurrah!
Saturday, December 17, 2011
It Must be Dangerous to Work Here
So I found seasonal work for December - yay! It's in a chocolate store - double yay! All sorts of tasty things for me to taste on an employee discount, in the same amount of moderation that I always use. Which is to say, not chiding myself for wanting to take a piece, but also not eating entire bags of candy in one sitting.
So why does EVERYONE come into my store and tell me "oh, I couldn't work here. I'd weigh 800 pounds! I'd never stop! It must be hard to work here. It must be dangerous."
I'm on the clock, so of course, I nod and smile and try not to let it bother me. But it kind of does. Are they trying to say something about me? Is it a compliment, that I'm "stronger" than they think they are because I do work here without trouble? Is it an unconscious dig at the fat girl working at the chocolate shop? Why do so many people feel the need to say it? Why do they all use the same phrases?
For some reason, that bothers me more than the people who just turn down the free samples with "I can't, I shouldn't, I'm being good," or the ones who accept them with "I'm being bad," or "I just worked out." Maybe I expected to hear those, and it's understandable why someone comments when I've offered them something and started a conversation. I just don't get why so many people feel the need to tell me how difficult it would be for them to be surrounded by chocolate and not eat all of it.
I've been in that place. It was an unhealthy place. If I worked here during high school, I'd bet pretty good money I would end up stealing. I would have taken out of the samples box and snuck them away for myself instead of the customers. I would have bought up huge amounts of candy and eaten them all in the car so they could just be mine with no one else knowing I had them.
I'm not doing that now. I have constant access to tons of chocolate and.....shock and surprise, I don't want it. Well, I wouldn't turn it down if it were mine. But it's not mine, the bag I bought to take home and have a couple on the nights that I'm home is mine. And if I weren't working here, I'd be doing what I did over the summer, and buying chocolate in the drugstore, and having a couple on the nights I'm home and I want them. The only thing that's changed is it's cheaper. And better quality.
It's just chocolate. It's not dangerous.
So why does EVERYONE come into my store and tell me "oh, I couldn't work here. I'd weigh 800 pounds! I'd never stop! It must be hard to work here. It must be dangerous."
I'm on the clock, so of course, I nod and smile and try not to let it bother me. But it kind of does. Are they trying to say something about me? Is it a compliment, that I'm "stronger" than they think they are because I do work here without trouble? Is it an unconscious dig at the fat girl working at the chocolate shop? Why do so many people feel the need to say it? Why do they all use the same phrases?
For some reason, that bothers me more than the people who just turn down the free samples with "I can't, I shouldn't, I'm being good," or the ones who accept them with "I'm being bad," or "I just worked out." Maybe I expected to hear those, and it's understandable why someone comments when I've offered them something and started a conversation. I just don't get why so many people feel the need to tell me how difficult it would be for them to be surrounded by chocolate and not eat all of it.
I've been in that place. It was an unhealthy place. If I worked here during high school, I'd bet pretty good money I would end up stealing. I would have taken out of the samples box and snuck them away for myself instead of the customers. I would have bought up huge amounts of candy and eaten them all in the car so they could just be mine with no one else knowing I had them.
I'm not doing that now. I have constant access to tons of chocolate and.....shock and surprise, I don't want it. Well, I wouldn't turn it down if it were mine. But it's not mine, the bag I bought to take home and have a couple on the nights that I'm home is mine. And if I weren't working here, I'd be doing what I did over the summer, and buying chocolate in the drugstore, and having a couple on the nights I'm home and I want them. The only thing that's changed is it's cheaper. And better quality.
It's just chocolate. It's not dangerous.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Hark, a post? Indeed
Sorry, first of all, for unexplained major haitus - I still have a few things I want to write about, but finishing school + move to new state + 3-month job hunt + Temporary job + other writing projects = Forgot about blog. I've still been reading the people I've subscribed to, and I'm sure there'll be more to say in the future.
For now, I quickly present an ad that I didn't even catch the implications of at first - my friend did, and told me that he can't say anymore that he doesn't get offended by things, because people try really really hard these days.
http://www.youtube.com/embed/9Af6dipkAfc (Blogger, please to embed youtube videos one of these days, love Sam)
In Ad-Speak: Don't jiggle it when you wiggle it!
Possible intended implication: Go ahead and move around, exercise, party, YAY!
Possible unintended implication: Just....don't go being fat at everyone while you're doing that, kay? Here's a girdle (Sorry...Compression Line)
I'm heartened to see the featured comment though:
"So, what's so bad about a woman's butt jiggling? Your commercials are very weird.
Why would a fit woman like the person in that commercial care about her but jiggling when she's doing some weird squat and frontal shoulder workout (with very bad form btw), why would she buy pants that specifically hinders butt jiggalige?"
In fact, a lot of comments are negative about the commercial, including "I jiggle it :(" and "I hate this commercial". (Granted, a lot of comments are also about how hot the models are, so take youtube with a grain of salt at all times.) Youtube comments aren't the right place to complain, so if you want to speak up to the company directly, try here!
http://oldnavy.gap.com/customerService/info.do?cid=3332
For now, I quickly present an ad that I didn't even catch the implications of at first - my friend did, and told me that he can't say anymore that he doesn't get offended by things, because people try really really hard these days.
http://www.youtube.com/embed/9Af6dipkAfc (Blogger, please to embed youtube videos one of these days, love Sam)
In Ad-Speak: Don't jiggle it when you wiggle it!
Possible intended implication: Go ahead and move around, exercise, party, YAY!
Possible unintended implication: Just....don't go being fat at everyone while you're doing that, kay? Here's a girdle (Sorry...Compression Line)
I'm heartened to see the featured comment though:
"So, what's so bad about a woman's butt jiggling? Your commercials are very weird.
Why would a fit woman like the person in that commercial care about her but jiggling when she's doing some weird squat and frontal shoulder workout (with very bad form btw), why would she buy pants that specifically hinders butt jiggalige?"
In fact, a lot of comments are negative about the commercial, including "I jiggle it :(" and "I hate this commercial". (Granted, a lot of comments are also about how hot the models are, so take youtube with a grain of salt at all times.) Youtube comments aren't the right place to complain, so if you want to speak up to the company directly, try here!
http://oldnavy.gap.com/customerService/info.do?cid=3332
Friday, July 15, 2011
I Still Love Sam Tarly
I'm about 200 pages into A Dance with Dragons, so no spoilers ;) Minor ones for the books and show ahead.
I've been a big fan of the Song of Ice and Fire book series since late high school. For those of you who don't know, that's the series that begins with A Game of Thrones, which recently got an excellent adaptation into an HBO miniseries (that I still haven't seen all of, but what I have seen was excellent). It's a rather gritty high low fantasy concept, focused on character study and worldwide politics. The characters are every single one of them vibrant and well-thought, and varied enough that I can't imagine anyone reading the series without finding someone to root for. There are a few fan favorites, but while everyone seems to have the same top two, the third slot, and fourth and fifth can change around like crazy.
The series actually came up recently in something of a feminist debate, after a New York Times reviewer referred to the HBO show as "boy fiction" dressed up with sex for the ladies. Which, apart from getting the stereotype wrong anyway, is nonsensical when one stops to think of the sheer variety of women presented in the series. Granted, Martin’s universe is patriarchal and cruel to its women, but a good majority of their storylines show how they deal with the lack of power that they have. Catelyn Stark raises her children and tries not to let her sons be lost to her; Cersei Lannister manipulates the men around her until she can become Queen Regent; Daenerys Targaryan is thrust into power that she isn’t prepared for, and attempts to be both a fair Queen and a conqueror.
So there’s a lot that I love about the books. But the thing is, I don’t think I’ve read them through since I got into Fat Acceptance. None of what’s about to follow means that I think the books or bad, or that Martin should be hanged, or that he’s obligated in any way to change the characters, or even that I expect any fantasy author to do so.
But in this world, Fat is a signifier of character flaws. I’m reading the early chapters, and none of the characters can stop from commenting about how termendously fat Illiryo is - so fat that his shirts could double as ships’ sails, so fat that he’s constantly eating and has to be carried in a liter. And I realized that I can think of a grand total of three characters who were overtly described as Fat during the course of the series, all of whom embody particular character flaws that their fatness emphasizes.
Sam Tarly (a favorite of mine since he first showed up) is a very un-manly man, in a manly man’s world. He prefers books to swords, he loves music, he prefers to be inside than out, he’s shy and cowardly. And he’s fat. He’s a little tubby pig of a boy and roundly mocked for it by his peers. Sam’s fatness seems both to show him as someone who can’t be as active as the rest (even though Sam does become a pretty important fighter later on), and as a childish person. He isn’t a man the same way that his same-aged, muscular, non-fat peers are. I also have an image in my head of Tommen Baratheon as being a little bit of a butterball, but I can’t remember if that’s in the book or just in my head - but similarly, Tommen is a very young boy who can’t by any circumstances be considered a man, and is not meant to be taken seriously as a source of authority.
Magister Illiryo is our aforementioned fat man, a rich merchant depicted as both lazy and overindulgent. In his opening scenes in Dance with Dragons, he is almost constantly nibbling on something, and his fat is as much a signifier as his luxurious clothes and palace that he is a man with no drive to ‘control himself’. He might as well be a hedonist for the way he’s portrayed, and he moves people into place for his own gains with a sneaky and untrustworthy skill. Illiryo is a man meant to make people uneasy, and his “grotesque” figure is part of creating that effect.
Robert Baratheon used to be a mighty warrior, but as he has become King and let himself go, he grew fat and lazy. Robert I only think is a partial case of this, but I still can’t help thinking that if the fat weren’t symbolic, it wouldn’t be there on a man with Robert’s history. As he became a worse and worse king, and grew older, he got fatter. Like Tommen after him, Robert can not be taken as a serious source of power in the realm, and like Illiryo, he is shown as being overindulgent in other matters like wine and women.
When I saw Martin talk at a signing for his latest book, someone asked why he had aged the characters up so much for the TV show. Martin replied that although he had done a lot of research and worked to be historically accurate by having very young women married off (engagement at 11, marriage at 13), you obviously couldn’t do that on television with the amount of sex in the show. I wonder, then, whether it ever occurred to Martin that it would also be historically accurate for fatness, especially in women, to be a sign of good health and wealth, and something to be admired as beauty. There’s something telling about what sells in our world, when we can take it as a given that in the past, people valued things differently in regard to adolescence and the place of women - yet Cersei, Daenerys, Margery Tyrell, Sansa Stark, all paragons of beauty, are all slim.
Again, this isn’t me berating an author for using stereotypes and markers that society will read and understand. It just struck me all of a sudden on this reading the way that the fat characters do embody stereotypes and markers. If anyone has characters to add to this list, please add them in the comments, because I’d love to see what I forgot.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
New House, Old Habits
Phrew! It's been a while. I've had my college graduation, followed closely by moving to a new city, and a lot of stuff has gone by the wayside a little bit.
But the move and my new home are actually going to be relevant for a new post, so there's that.
I'm living with friends of mine, people who are older than me and more settled in their lives, so they have no worries about adding another person to their menu-planning. I'm paying a rent that includes all utilities and most of my food, and I'm super-lucky to have the situation. They know a little bit about my mom and my old situation, my love of baking and cooking, and the fact that I wasn't allowed free rein in my old home; I've been assured multiple times that anything I want to take out and play around with, I'm more than welcome. I broke in the kitchen this past weekend by baking the most awesome lemon bars ever, and I've been involved in helping my housemates pick out vegetables and herbs to grow in their garden. I've been assured that anything in the fridge besides someone else's lunchbag is free game, and just let them know if I'd like anything in particular and it'll go on the shopping list. So all in all, it's relaxed around here, I know I get even more freedom with my food than I did in my college dorm, and it's a wonderful place to be.
And yet...
I'm finding myself slipping into a few old habits, and I’m not sure why. I’m finding myself getting self-conscious, if not secretive, about what and when I’m eating. It hasn’t been enough so far, really, to keep me from eating when I want, but it’s weighing on me somewhat. There’s no good reason for it - this isn’t my mother’s house, nobody cares what I’m eating. But I get self-conscious anyway.
My housemates have been eating on a different timetable from me, so a lot of the time I don’t want to wait as long as they do to have dinner. But I feel weird about eating apart from them; it doesn’t help that there isn’t a kitchen table or anything out-of-the-way where I could sit, I really have to be out in the open unless I squirrel my food away to my room - which I’m making a concentrated effort not to do, because THAT is certainly going to lead to bad places.
More concerning than that though, I’m starting to slip into not-quite-binging behaviors. This past weekend, I had the whole house to myself, and it was up to me to feed myself and to know that no one was around to watch or keep any kind of track. And alone in the house, I caught myself eating really fast. I caught myself dipping into containers in the fridge, stealing a few cold bites and hastily putting it back away - even knowing that nobody cares and in fact I’m expected to eat plenty of the food that’s in there, I found myself feeling like I had to be fast and stealthy like I used to. When my friends got home earlier than I anticipated after the weekend, I was stuck having to eat while they were busy unpacking from their trip and bustling around the house; not only was I the only one eating, but I felt like i would have been in the way. So I ate as fast as I could, standing in the kitchen, trying my best to still be friendly and chat with them and not let it actually stop me from having my dinner.
So far, it’s not something that’s stopping me, exactly. But it is something that’s weighing on me. I KNOW that this is not the same home I grew up in, I know that I’m safe and that no one is watching, that my friends will be happy that I’m enjoying the food they’ve made, that my schedule is just different and I need to take care of myself. I’m doing my best not to let it affect my behavior, especially now that I’ve noticed the attempts at stealth and secrecy. I can’t let that start happening again.
(apologies for tiny font, cant' seem to figure out how to put it right)
My housemates have been eating on a different timetable from me, so a lot of the time I don’t want to wait as long as they do to have dinner. But I feel weird about eating apart from them; it doesn’t help that there isn’t a kitchen table or anything out-of-the-way where I could sit, I really have to be out in the open unless I squirrel my food away to my room - which I’m making a concentrated effort not to do, because THAT is certainly going to lead to bad places.
More concerning than that though, I’m starting to slip into not-quite-binging behaviors. This past weekend, I had the whole house to myself, and it was up to me to feed myself and to know that no one was around to watch or keep any kind of track. And alone in the house, I caught myself eating really fast. I caught myself dipping into containers in the fridge, stealing a few cold bites and hastily putting it back away - even knowing that nobody cares and in fact I’m expected to eat plenty of the food that’s in there, I found myself feeling like I had to be fast and stealthy like I used to. When my friends got home earlier than I anticipated after the weekend, I was stuck having to eat while they were busy unpacking from their trip and bustling around the house; not only was I the only one eating, but I felt like i would have been in the way. So I ate as fast as I could, standing in the kitchen, trying my best to still be friendly and chat with them and not let it actually stop me from having my dinner.
So far, it’s not something that’s stopping me, exactly. But it is something that’s weighing on me. I KNOW that this is not the same home I grew up in, I know that I’m safe and that no one is watching, that my friends will be happy that I’m enjoying the food they’ve made, that my schedule is just different and I need to take care of myself. I’m doing my best not to let it affect my behavior, especially now that I’ve noticed the attempts at stealth and secrecy. I can’t let that start happening again.
(apologies for tiny font, cant' seem to figure out how to put it right)
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Okay so I'm fat. Now what?
(If you have trouble reading specific numbers of pounds, be aware that I mention them along with my own weight here)
So I'm having a lot of feelings that aren't really coming together into a coherent blog post, but I also kind of don't want to keep them to myself, especially in the time I have left in my parents' house. I don't want to find myself doing anything dangerous, like the time I basically refused to eat under my mom's watch after her comments about the potato thing, but I also don't want to be ignoring things that might need attention.
I knew I was getting bigger over the past year. I kept complaining about pants because they felt tighter than they used to, and I wasn't in such denial that I didn't know why. I don't think I was eating especially more than I ever did - at least, I wasn't eating much differently this last year of college than I think I did the previous three. And I was making a pretty good effort to exercise more, between yoga twice per week and walking 2-3 miles 3-4 other days out of the week.
I'm at home till Saturday after graduation, and finally had access to a scale, and decided it would at least be good to know. And somehow I gained 15 pounds.
I don't want to be that person who freaks out about relatively small amounts of weight. But. Maybe it's just that this is triggering a lot of hopeless memories. It's one thing to be 15 pounds overweight (at least according to the doctors who expect you to lose it) but it's quite another to be 50, or 80, or now near 100 over the 120 pounds that they told me I should be striving for my whole life. Even if I lost those new 15 again, there'd be more of them. Even if I lost 30 or 50 I'd still be considered overweight. I remember how hopeless I felt, especially as I continued to gain weight through puberty.
But maybe I've rationalized things the wrong way. I grew to accept cheerfully the idea that when I leveled my weight off in my late teens by not doing anything, it just meant I was done growing. I was 180-ish at that point. There was still a big part of me that said "well, at least you're not 200 pounds. Then you'd REALLY be fat!"
And then I got to college, and stopped being self-conscious about eating as much as I was. No one was commenting on my choices, and while I have worked to get more vegetables and fruit and new foods into my diet, I felt so freed by not thinking about it. I let myself have treats most nights. I let myself eat for comfort when I needed it. I started learning how big a difference it makes to use or drink whole milk than skim. I wonder now if I thought too little, instead of too much.
I don't know what the range of "normal" is, and I don't know whether it's a problem, or a normality or something to be aware of and watch out for if I went from ~180 to ~215 over the last four years. I look at myself, and I don't think I'm visibly that much bigger. In fact, a friend of mine complimented me the last time we saw each other that my arms were getting slimmer. Even as I had just gone out to buy bigger pants because I was tired of being squished into a size too small.
Should I be worrying? Should I not be having the daily desserts that I got used to? Should I just be keeping an eye to make sure something's not wrong with me? Is this just how big I am, is it normal to still be gaining at 21 years? Was the doctor right, and I really am going to just keep ballooning out for the rest of my life unless I actively lose weight? Is it possible I could go back to my size 16 and be comfortable in my old comfy jeans again?
I don't want to be freaked out, and I don't think I am. But I also am afraid of being in denial. I know that this is in no way, shape or form what Fat Acceptance is about, but I fear that the criticism is right - that this is an excuse not to think. That instead of exercising hard and eating right, I'm latching onto a movement that says I don't have to (even though FA and HAES strongly encourage healthful eating and regular movement). I'm afraid that I've been just plugging my ears and singing "la la la" instead of paying attention to my body, out of fear that it would do exactly this.
If anyone has any advice, I'd like it. Mostly, I just needed to get this out, so it can at least sit here on the blog and not be perched on my shoulder every time I try to have a meal in this house.
So I'm having a lot of feelings that aren't really coming together into a coherent blog post, but I also kind of don't want to keep them to myself, especially in the time I have left in my parents' house. I don't want to find myself doing anything dangerous, like the time I basically refused to eat under my mom's watch after her comments about the potato thing, but I also don't want to be ignoring things that might need attention.
I knew I was getting bigger over the past year. I kept complaining about pants because they felt tighter than they used to, and I wasn't in such denial that I didn't know why. I don't think I was eating especially more than I ever did - at least, I wasn't eating much differently this last year of college than I think I did the previous three. And I was making a pretty good effort to exercise more, between yoga twice per week and walking 2-3 miles 3-4 other days out of the week.
I'm at home till Saturday after graduation, and finally had access to a scale, and decided it would at least be good to know. And somehow I gained 15 pounds.
I don't want to be that person who freaks out about relatively small amounts of weight. But. Maybe it's just that this is triggering a lot of hopeless memories. It's one thing to be 15 pounds overweight (at least according to the doctors who expect you to lose it) but it's quite another to be 50, or 80, or now near 100 over the 120 pounds that they told me I should be striving for my whole life. Even if I lost those new 15 again, there'd be more of them. Even if I lost 30 or 50 I'd still be considered overweight. I remember how hopeless I felt, especially as I continued to gain weight through puberty.
But maybe I've rationalized things the wrong way. I grew to accept cheerfully the idea that when I leveled my weight off in my late teens by not doing anything, it just meant I was done growing. I was 180-ish at that point. There was still a big part of me that said "well, at least you're not 200 pounds. Then you'd REALLY be fat!"
And then I got to college, and stopped being self-conscious about eating as much as I was. No one was commenting on my choices, and while I have worked to get more vegetables and fruit and new foods into my diet, I felt so freed by not thinking about it. I let myself have treats most nights. I let myself eat for comfort when I needed it. I started learning how big a difference it makes to use or drink whole milk than skim. I wonder now if I thought too little, instead of too much.
I don't know what the range of "normal" is, and I don't know whether it's a problem, or a normality or something to be aware of and watch out for if I went from ~180 to ~215 over the last four years. I look at myself, and I don't think I'm visibly that much bigger. In fact, a friend of mine complimented me the last time we saw each other that my arms were getting slimmer. Even as I had just gone out to buy bigger pants because I was tired of being squished into a size too small.
Should I be worrying? Should I not be having the daily desserts that I got used to? Should I just be keeping an eye to make sure something's not wrong with me? Is this just how big I am, is it normal to still be gaining at 21 years? Was the doctor right, and I really am going to just keep ballooning out for the rest of my life unless I actively lose weight? Is it possible I could go back to my size 16 and be comfortable in my old comfy jeans again?
I don't want to be freaked out, and I don't think I am. But I also am afraid of being in denial. I know that this is in no way, shape or form what Fat Acceptance is about, but I fear that the criticism is right - that this is an excuse not to think. That instead of exercising hard and eating right, I'm latching onto a movement that says I don't have to (even though FA and HAES strongly encourage healthful eating and regular movement). I'm afraid that I've been just plugging my ears and singing "la la la" instead of paying attention to my body, out of fear that it would do exactly this.
If anyone has any advice, I'd like it. Mostly, I just needed to get this out, so it can at least sit here on the blog and not be perched on my shoulder every time I try to have a meal in this house.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Chocolate Milk is Poison!
Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a serious problem.
Despite vigorous efforts to eliminate Childhood Obesity, despite stricter and stricter guidelines around what is allowed in a school lunch, how many calories are allowed to be eaten, what is and is not allowed to be brought from home, despite some of the most invasive attempts we've made,
There are still fat children!!!!
As such, we shouldn't try to think about why the programs aren't working. We shouldn't consider the possibility that not all bodies are meant to be exactly the same size, that having enough food to concentrate in school is worth the couple of pounds that it might- MIGHT - make a difference on, and we shouldn't try to see about overhauls in the school lunch system so that more nutritious, tastier, fresher food might be served.
We should just keep doing the same thing, only more.
Schools May Ban Chocolate Milk over Added Sugar
There's a lot of gems in here. There really are. I'm not sure I know enough to point out all of them but by all means, if anyone wants to add to it in the comments or blog yourself, please share. Let me see what I can pull out on my own, without an entire MST-ing of the entire article.
Well, first and all, this fricking demonization of chocolate milk. I've talked about this a little bit before but I really think it deserves its own post some day - this idea that there are Healthy and Unhealthy things to eat, and that you can entirely contradict the Healthiness of something by adding an Unhealthy thing to it. Milk is Healthy - no one is going to dispute this. Especially for young children, milk is a great way to get a whole host of essential vitamins and calcium and good growing nutrients. Sugar is Unhealthy - yes, fine, it doesn't do a whole lot on its own. It isn't POISON, but it's not the world's best source of either nutrients or energy.
Therefore, Milk plus Sugar is UNhealthy. Because it has Unhealthy sugar in it. Which cancels out the good part of being milk.
"When you're telling kids that drinking chocolate milk is a healthy choice, it's sending the wrong message." - Concerned Parent.
Oh look, a wild Jamie Oliver appears! Jamie Oliver used Invasive TV Program Credentials! Jamie Oliver used Stupid Oversimplification!
"If you have flavored milk, that's candy," he told The Associated Press.
It's not very effective.
People. Food tastes good. That's part of how our bodies recognize that it's healthful. Sugar and fat taste good because both fat and simple energy are vital to our survival. When well-prepared, thousands of other foods taste awesome. Broccoli, zuchinni, pasta, couscous, fruits of all shapes and sizes, sweet potato, white potato, corn, baby corn, carrots, mushrooms, celery, beans, rice....food OUGHT to taste amazing.
But this is what we're teaching these children: None of these foods are acceptably healthy if they become more palatable to a small child. Celery with peanut butter? Well, unless it's organic, peanut butter is all fatty and Unhealthy, so no go. Corn or potatoes with butter? of course not. Beans and rice with cheese on top? Fetch my smelling salts!
Milk with chocolate? Nope.
Here's one more thing that might actually make me angrier than the whole rest of the article though.
Concerned Parent used Ignore the Facts!
"But efforts by some other districts turned sour after children drank less milk. Milk consumption drops by 35 percent when flavored milks are removed, according to the Milk Processors Education Program.
Cabell County, W.Va., schools brought chocolate milk back at the recommendation of state officials, and Fairfax County, Va., did the same after its dairy provider came up with a version sweetened with beet sugar rather than high-fructose corn syrup...
Cooper and others argued children will drink plain milk if that's what's offered.
"We've taught them to drink chocolate milk, so we can unteach them that," Cooper said. "Our kids line up for milk."
Except, you have proof there. You have studies. Lots of children DON'T drink non-flavored milk. They just don't drink milk at all.
Maybe if you still offered them WHOLE milk they wouldn't hate it so much, too. Skim or 1% is all that's talked about in the whole article. Skim Chocolate, or Skim White milk. As someone who grew up on skim, let me tell you that whole milk is DELICIOUS.
But there's fat in it.
That makes it Unhealthy.
Really this all just makes me so glad to have missed the hysteria when I was in elementary school.
Despite vigorous efforts to eliminate Childhood Obesity, despite stricter and stricter guidelines around what is allowed in a school lunch, how many calories are allowed to be eaten, what is and is not allowed to be brought from home, despite some of the most invasive attempts we've made,
There are still fat children!!!!
As such, we shouldn't try to think about why the programs aren't working. We shouldn't consider the possibility that not all bodies are meant to be exactly the same size, that having enough food to concentrate in school is worth the couple of pounds that it might- MIGHT - make a difference on, and we shouldn't try to see about overhauls in the school lunch system so that more nutritious, tastier, fresher food might be served.
We should just keep doing the same thing, only more.
Schools May Ban Chocolate Milk over Added Sugar
There's a lot of gems in here. There really are. I'm not sure I know enough to point out all of them but by all means, if anyone wants to add to it in the comments or blog yourself, please share. Let me see what I can pull out on my own, without an entire MST-ing of the entire article.
Well, first and all, this fricking demonization of chocolate milk. I've talked about this a little bit before but I really think it deserves its own post some day - this idea that there are Healthy and Unhealthy things to eat, and that you can entirely contradict the Healthiness of something by adding an Unhealthy thing to it. Milk is Healthy - no one is going to dispute this. Especially for young children, milk is a great way to get a whole host of essential vitamins and calcium and good growing nutrients. Sugar is Unhealthy - yes, fine, it doesn't do a whole lot on its own. It isn't POISON, but it's not the world's best source of either nutrients or energy.
Therefore, Milk plus Sugar is UNhealthy. Because it has Unhealthy sugar in it. Which cancels out the good part of being milk.
"When you're telling kids that drinking chocolate milk is a healthy choice, it's sending the wrong message." - Concerned Parent.
Oh look, a wild Jamie Oliver appears! Jamie Oliver used Invasive TV Program Credentials! Jamie Oliver used Stupid Oversimplification!
"If you have flavored milk, that's candy," he told The Associated Press.
It's not very effective.
People. Food tastes good. That's part of how our bodies recognize that it's healthful. Sugar and fat taste good because both fat and simple energy are vital to our survival. When well-prepared, thousands of other foods taste awesome. Broccoli, zuchinni, pasta, couscous, fruits of all shapes and sizes, sweet potato, white potato, corn, baby corn, carrots, mushrooms, celery, beans, rice....food OUGHT to taste amazing.
But this is what we're teaching these children: None of these foods are acceptably healthy if they become more palatable to a small child. Celery with peanut butter? Well, unless it's organic, peanut butter is all fatty and Unhealthy, so no go. Corn or potatoes with butter? of course not. Beans and rice with cheese on top? Fetch my smelling salts!
Milk with chocolate? Nope.
Here's one more thing that might actually make me angrier than the whole rest of the article though.
Concerned Parent used Ignore the Facts!
"But efforts by some other districts turned sour after children drank less milk. Milk consumption drops by 35 percent when flavored milks are removed, according to the Milk Processors Education Program.
Cabell County, W.Va., schools brought chocolate milk back at the recommendation of state officials, and Fairfax County, Va., did the same after its dairy provider came up with a version sweetened with beet sugar rather than high-fructose corn syrup...
Cooper and others argued children will drink plain milk if that's what's offered.
"We've taught them to drink chocolate milk, so we can unteach them that," Cooper said. "Our kids line up for milk."
Except, you have proof there. You have studies. Lots of children DON'T drink non-flavored milk. They just don't drink milk at all.
Maybe if you still offered them WHOLE milk they wouldn't hate it so much, too. Skim or 1% is all that's talked about in the whole article. Skim Chocolate, or Skim White milk. As someone who grew up on skim, let me tell you that whole milk is DELICIOUS.
But there's fat in it.
That makes it Unhealthy.
Really this all just makes me so glad to have missed the hysteria when I was in elementary school.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I shouldn't have gone back
Ugh. Internet. Why do you do this to me.
Why do you let me attempt to engage people and not then block me from reading the follow-up comments.
The following happened on a post on Sociological Images about a series of Klondike commercials where people under go horrible endurance challenges to win an ice cream. In the one under discussion, two big burly biker men had to - gasp - HOLD HANDS for five seconds!
So I go and read the discussion, and see this.
"Also, regardless of my sexuality, I wouldn’t want to hold the hand of someone that is obese and that doesn’t abide by basic hygiene. I wouldn’t even do that for a klondike."
A challenger appears:
"Why wouldn’t you want to hold the hand of an obese person? Are you afraid you might catch fat cooties or something? Your comment is hateful and dehumanizing."
The reply:
"I don’t find fat people attractive. It’s fine they’re fat, whatever, don’t care. I just find them physically repulsive. Others may find them sexy or whatever, but not me. The men in the vid are not attractive to me, and therefore I would not want to hold either of their hands, even if I was one of them.
So, do you want to apologize or am I supposed to get aroused to only fat people now?"
I stared at this for a while, totally baffled at how that comment even begins to be a reply to the challenge. Holding hands equals sex now? It's "fine that they're fat" but they're physically repulsive, and that's totally not a contradiction in attitude?
I couldn't help myself. All I said was "there’s a massive chasm of spectrum between “find sexually attractive” and “find physically repulsive”." I really didn't intend to go back to the post. I just wanted to leave that there. I really couldn't believe that those were the only two categories that this person put people into - fuckable, or repulsive.
Of course, I went back. The discussion was interesting and there were a lot more comments, and this was their reply:
"And I find obese people both sexually unattractive and physically repulsive. Particularly the fellow on the left in the commercial.
I know some people have the same feelings toward non-obese people. That’s their right and I don’t see anything wrong with either opinion."
I just.....what do you even say?
The original challenger had also replied in the meanwhile:
"Please show me the sentence in my comment where I said that you have to only be aroused by fat people. Please show me the part in my comment where I said that you had to be aroused by anyone.
There is a big difference between being sexually attracted to someone and holding their hand for five seconds. You don’t have to be sexually attracted to someone to touch them. Try replacing the word “fat” with the word “gay” or “Jewish” in your sentence and see if you don’t sound bigoted."
And the final reply in the chain:
"non-fat LGBT and/or Jewish people aren’t disgusting to me, so long as they aren’t fat. A person’s sexuality or ethnicity has nothing to do with their obesity. The mere thought of touching a portly hand is sickening to me. Now, what does your comment have to do with the video?"
POINT
HEAD
I had to archive this. I can't really process it. How do you even? How do you get into that mindset? How do you so completely miss the point? How do you put no possible middle ground between sexual hunger and complete revulsion? How do you not understand that it hurts to be told so casually that my body or others like mine are so sickening to you that five seconds of touching a hand would be too much to ask? And how do you not see a problem with finding other people PHYSICALLY REPULSIVE based on one characteristic just because you think there are people who would do the same refusal to touch a skinny person?
I just don't even know what to say. I'm not even angry. I really can't be. I hope it's a troll. But my goodness if it isn't worth writing down just to have a record of.
Why do you let me attempt to engage people and not then block me from reading the follow-up comments.
The following happened on a post on Sociological Images about a series of Klondike commercials where people under go horrible endurance challenges to win an ice cream. In the one under discussion, two big burly biker men had to - gasp - HOLD HANDS for five seconds!
So I go and read the discussion, and see this.
"Also, regardless of my sexuality, I wouldn’t want to hold the hand of someone that is obese and that doesn’t abide by basic hygiene. I wouldn’t even do that for a klondike."
A challenger appears:
"Why wouldn’t you want to hold the hand of an obese person? Are you afraid you might catch fat cooties or something? Your comment is hateful and dehumanizing."
The reply:
"I don’t find fat people attractive. It’s fine they’re fat, whatever, don’t care. I just find them physically repulsive. Others may find them sexy or whatever, but not me. The men in the vid are not attractive to me, and therefore I would not want to hold either of their hands, even if I was one of them.
So, do you want to apologize or am I supposed to get aroused to only fat people now?"
I stared at this for a while, totally baffled at how that comment even begins to be a reply to the challenge. Holding hands equals sex now? It's "fine that they're fat" but they're physically repulsive, and that's totally not a contradiction in attitude?
I couldn't help myself. All I said was "there’s a massive chasm of spectrum between “find sexually attractive” and “find physically repulsive”." I really didn't intend to go back to the post. I just wanted to leave that there. I really couldn't believe that those were the only two categories that this person put people into - fuckable, or repulsive.
Of course, I went back. The discussion was interesting and there were a lot more comments, and this was their reply:
"And I find obese people both sexually unattractive and physically repulsive. Particularly the fellow on the left in the commercial.
I know some people have the same feelings toward non-obese people. That’s their right and I don’t see anything wrong with either opinion."
I just.....what do you even say?
The original challenger had also replied in the meanwhile:
"Please show me the sentence in my comment where I said that you have to only be aroused by fat people. Please show me the part in my comment where I said that you had to be aroused by anyone.
There is a big difference between being sexually attracted to someone and holding their hand for five seconds. You don’t have to be sexually attracted to someone to touch them. Try replacing the word “fat” with the word “gay” or “Jewish” in your sentence and see if you don’t sound bigoted."
And the final reply in the chain:
"non-fat LGBT and/or Jewish people aren’t disgusting to me, so long as they aren’t fat. A person’s sexuality or ethnicity has nothing to do with their obesity. The mere thought of touching a portly hand is sickening to me. Now, what does your comment have to do with the video?"
POINT
HEAD
I had to archive this. I can't really process it. How do you even? How do you get into that mindset? How do you so completely miss the point? How do you put no possible middle ground between sexual hunger and complete revulsion? How do you not understand that it hurts to be told so casually that my body or others like mine are so sickening to you that five seconds of touching a hand would be too much to ask? And how do you not see a problem with finding other people PHYSICALLY REPULSIVE based on one characteristic just because you think there are people who would do the same refusal to touch a skinny person?
I just don't even know what to say. I'm not even angry. I really can't be. I hope it's a troll. But my goodness if it isn't worth writing down just to have a record of.
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