I've just had an apostrophe.

[batyatoon]

("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?

Comments

Keeping in mind. . .

[(Anonymous)]

Keeping in mind that I don't do this: How about finding something that you can do with this thing you lug around, that you'd enjoy? Ideally something that actually works the thing you lug around? I like swimming. Actually, I like sitting on the bottom of the pool; my mom used to use me as a lifeguard test. But the point is, it uses calories. It builds muscle. It's easy and it's something I'd do anyway. If you can think of any hobbies like that ("I'm not exercising, I'm learning to kill someone with my bare hands" or whatever) try 'em out. ("I'm not walking for exercise; I'm learning my neighborhood." "I'm not running for exercise; I'm trying to catch the frisbee my near-blind boyfriend is throwing at me." Whatever works.) As the Cult of the Dead Cow used to say: "Save yourself! Go outside! Do something!" -Sandy