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I've just had an apostrophe.
("I think you mean an epiphany.")
So we've been discussing the whole body-image/anorexia topic to death on the Brunching Board. And in discussing a particular dieting behavior that amounted to an eating disorder, I said (reasonably) that the problem with it was not that it was unusual, but that it wasn't healthy. And, I qualified, by "healthy" I meant "emotionally healthy."
And it didn't occur to me until somewhat later to look askance at that knee-jerk qualifier.
For thems of you as has never met me in person: I am short and overweight. I have been short and overweight my entire life.
I had really awful body-self-image trouble when I was younger. It got to the point where the only way I could be at all comfortable living in this body was to ignore it completely -- I didn't care about it, I didn't care what other people said about it, and I certainly didn't care what it looked like.
It took me a long time to get to a place where I believed that I could look good, and where I would bother to try -- things as simple as taking pains with color and style of clothing, or taking care of my hair.
To this day, I have still refused to go on any weight-loss or fitness regimen, because I have not yet gotten to a place where I can do that without feeling as though, after all these years, I were finally caving to body-image pressure.
Essentially, given the choice between taking care of my physical health or my emotional health, I chose emotional without a second thought.
And what hit me, when I finally put it that way to myself, was what that means.
I still put my mind ahead of my body.
I still think of my mind as who I am, and my body as ... well ... where I live. I am my mind; I inhabit my body.
And when I asked myself "well, why do I do that?", the answer was obvious: I still don't want to think of this body that I hated for so long as me.
How's that for a kick in the head?
And where do I go from here?
So we've been discussing the whole body-image/anorexia topic to death on the Brunching Board. And in discussing a particular dieting behavior that amounted to an eating disorder, I said (reasonably) that the problem with it was not that it was unusual, but that it wasn't healthy. And, I qualified, by "healthy" I meant "emotionally healthy."
And it didn't occur to me until somewhat later to look askance at that knee-jerk qualifier.
For thems of you as has never met me in person: I am short and overweight. I have been short and overweight my entire life.
I had really awful body-self-image trouble when I was younger. It got to the point where the only way I could be at all comfortable living in this body was to ignore it completely -- I didn't care about it, I didn't care what other people said about it, and I certainly didn't care what it looked like.
It took me a long time to get to a place where I believed that I could look good, and where I would bother to try -- things as simple as taking pains with color and style of clothing, or taking care of my hair.
To this day, I have still refused to go on any weight-loss or fitness regimen, because I have not yet gotten to a place where I can do that without feeling as though, after all these years, I were finally caving to body-image pressure.
Essentially, given the choice between taking care of my physical health or my emotional health, I chose emotional without a second thought.
And what hit me, when I finally put it that way to myself, was what that means.
I still put my mind ahead of my body.
I still think of my mind as who I am, and my body as ... well ... where I live. I am my mind; I inhabit my body.
And when I asked myself "well, why do I do that?", the answer was obvious: I still don't want to think of this body that I hated for so long as me.
How's that for a kick in the head?
And where do I go from here?
no subject
I've always loved you as you are, and I will continue to love you no matter how you change. I've always thought it was brave to ignore fashion for peace of mind, but if it gives you extra piece of mind to be physically well in addition to emotionally well, that's even better.
*hugs*
LMG
no subject
Not because I would wish it on anyone, because, well, no.
Because of the joy, if bittersweet in this case, and opening-of-horizons that comes with "I'm not the only one who feels that way! I'm not alone!
I, too, am short and round. I, too, think of my body as this inconvenient thing that I lug around, that is mine rather than me. Add in a dose of gross motor incoordination, so that it doesn't even do what I tell it (or at least not well), and you have a perfect recipe to... well, not hate, but to not have and to resist emotional investment in and attachment to one's body.
And, at least for me (since I tend to think and react in dichotomy rather than continuity, black-and-white without grey), the only way to not comply with societal pressure to hate my weight and throw myself into changing it is... not to care. Because caring and embracing the whole fat-pride, I-love-my-body-because-it's-mine thing is still walking their road, just in reverse.
It sounds like you've gotten far enough to realize some of your internal responses without the hint of someone else spelling out their experience. I'm pleased for you, and a bit envious.
As you come to further realizations, please do share what you feel comfortable sharing. I'm mortally certain that we are not the only two with this particular body-image problem. Or maybe it could more accurately be characterized as a lack-of-body-image problem.
no subject
Recently someone, who I know at least sort of understood, talked to me about possibly going to a meeting about stomach stappling/bypass stuff. She used to be much heavier even than I am and she used to have a lot of health problems associated. But one of the things that she said which annoyed me was something along the lines of 'Don't you want to get married?' And I've got a fiance. I've got a fiance who loves me. Heck, I've had a number of other lovers as well. I don't need to be thin for people to love me. And that part of her assumption just sort of automatically sent me into 'No, not gonna do it' mode no matter what else she said. Oh well. I admit I'm not overly rational on the subject.
no subject
Yes. Exactly. Because to change would be to give in to pressure, and to become the sort of shallow superficial appearance-oriented person we always despised. It would be saying "Yes, you've convinced me, I do want to be thin and beautiful and happy, which are not only all the same thing but the most important thing there is."
Or at least that's how it feels.
Now, I'm perfectly capable of understanding that, in general, bad reasons to do something do not invalidate the good reasons to do it. So why the hell is it so hard to accept that in this particular case?
no subject
I don't know, but I do it too. I've been angry at my mother for years over an instance of just this problem, and I can't even explain to her why, because it sounds nuts put into words.
I had frequent daylit free-time a few years ago. I was going to do something good for myself, on both the physical and emotional levels, and start going for daily walks. I carefully barricaded from myself any recollection that my mother walked for fitness, or had suggested this. Then, the day before I was going to start, we were talking and she suggested that since I had free time I start walking. Argh! I couldn't go.
I still, years later, haven't been able to. Because by starting to do it after she suggested it, even though I had already decided on my own to do so, I would be capitulating to her desire for me to exercise. To, in general, give a shit about my body. And I couldn't give in like that. I know it makes no logical or rational sense. But it makes emotional sense, and it lives in that part of myself that has the door firmly barred to Mr. Logic.
It gives her as much or more power than I'm trying to take from her, in a way. I'm not doing what my mother tells me to. Even if she tells me to do something that I was already going to do, I then won't, or can't, do it because now it's something my mother told me to do, and I'm not doing that.
This comment-thread (http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=almeda&itemid=56728&thread=81560#t81560) turned up in
Free to a good home?
no subject
I've got a bum ankle, so jumping up and down trying to grab the edge isn't working for me. ^_~
What got me out of the loop
A serious of things happened that I paid attention to. My father's sister died last year at 49, of complications related to high cholesterol. My mother had a heart attack 3 years ago at 52 of complications related to being over weight. My father had an angioplast recently in part due to stress. My best friend's mother had both knees replaced, in part because she is obese. For the last 3 years, I've been trying to figure out who I am and who I want to become. Here's what I found:
I don't eat healthy. I never excercise. I have a knee that doesn't work right most good days, and doesn't work at all on bad days, such that I *must* hold the hand rail to go down the stairs even on good days. I have an ankle that snaps like a twig every two years, such that I have to wear ankle-supporting shoes if I want stability. *Several* doctors, a few of them non-judgemental, have mentioned that the ankle and the knee would be better if I weighed less and were stronger.
I added those two together and came up with the realization that if I don't take care of me, I could wind up like them. With knee replacements. Ulcers. High cholesterol. Heart attacks. Do I really want that? Well, some of that is probably inevitable. But I control my choices and my attitude, and at any time that I choose to make my knee function better or my ankle be more stable or my heart be stronger for longer, I know what I have to do.
What everyone else thinks no longer concerns me, because it isn't about what I look like. It's about what I feel like. It's about getting out of bed in the morning and knowing I won't fall down immediately. It's about not feeling my heart pounding so hard in my chest I think it will explode.
Slow changes are coming along. I eat more vegetables. I take the stairs up while I still can. I drink nearly no soda. I scroll new things in as I can.
Sorry this post took so long and so much space, but that is how I worked it out for me. Maybe it will help you work it out for you. -
Keeping in mind. . .
(Anonymous) 2002-05-17 12:03 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
You have simply the BEST smile
no subject
a freind