Ah, the weight debate raises its ugly head yet again.

[kjpepper]

Whilst doing my morning livejournaling I ran across an entry in innostrantsa's journal exploring issues of size that were very similar to the ones I've mulled over at several points in my life. This point being one of them. I started to comment in her journal, just a general shout out of support and sharing my story and an overglorified "me too" but then, considering the subject matter, it quickly turned into a rant. Rants are not for comments pages, rants are for your own goddamned journal. So I cut and pasted. Ah, well, now I can make this longer.

I'll start this with a little story. It's called "reasons #23623 why I love sundart."

Last june when we went to her family's place for her little sister zadnyl's high school graduation, some of her female relatives (I think women do this more than guys do, it's freakish) were all astounded by how much weight she'd lost (she'd dropped from 210ish to 165ish), and of course felt the need to be all like "Wow! You lost so much weight! That's amazing and wonderful!" And she says completely deadpan "Oh yeah, that. I got seriously ill about three months back, and am continuing to have intestinal problems." Man did that ever shut them up quick. :) Of course the sick part is you have to wonder which of them privately thought to themselves "Wow. She lost fifty pounds on the Wasting Butt Disease Plan. Sign me up!"

Moral of story: people have this insanely freakish thing about needing to compliment others for shrinking, and expect that this is a good thing to do...

The entry in question struck a chord with me because it wasn't the typical gaaagh, I'm tired of weighing what I do type of thing, more it was a general exploration of what not being thin meant, how it's changed her image of herself, and now that she's exercising regularly and having to change her eating habits for health reasons, how the changes in her body made her feel, which ran pretty parallel to my own experiences with my own weight. Lately I've been thinking about it in a less back burnery way than usual due to some residual past stuff and some kinda exasperating conversations I've had recently with timarok, who means well but doesn't really get some things, though conversely his own body hangups are fairly incomprehensible to me... but that's another story.

I think if you're born female in this country, you have problems with your weight from the starting gate. Being fat is so held up as the worst thing you could ever be. I'm no exception, I've gone from typically obsessed over it and self-hating because I already knew I didn't have the discipline to go on a diet, and pills gave me the willies, to a cheerful apatheticness about it. I mean I more or less accept the way I look and have gotten fairly comfy in my skin. It makes sense, really, I have to live in it.

Of course, the funny thing is while I used to hate myself for not having the willpower to diet, this morphed into a rabid hatred/impatience for anything and anyone doing anything diet-y. I viewed anyone attempting to lose weight for the sake of losing weight sellouts, wanted to punch anyone who looked at a bottle of diet coke with any interest in purchasing it (this was a problem when I worked concessions at Cinemark), and... well, no I still view Atkins and South Beach dieters about on the same level as I view Branch Davidians and MCI users. Something about me triggers mightily when anyone I happen to know personally is all like "yes, and I lost x pounds, and I'm vastly happy about it! Whoo! *dig for compliment, dig for compliment*" I'm not sure what's working at me here, probably a combination of righteous anger at a society that's not into rewarding women for being large, and repressed jealousy that these formerly fat people (whom I actually admired and found much cuter when they were rounder) can now fit into those teensy goth clothes that only run up to size 10. Not that I'd want to be a size 10, but there are days when I wouldn't mind being a 14 again. Though if I woke up tomorrow and found I had magically become thinner, I'd be pissed. Hi, what would I wear? my wardrobe would all fall off me, yikes!

Basically here's my thing. Would I want to be a size 14? Sure. Am I willing to put the time and the effort knowing a) what i'd be like if I failed b) the fact that 90% of the people who diet regain a good portion of it back down the line? No. I've really got better things to do with my time than obsess over the precise sine wave created by my ass-jiggle and reducing it.

This is not to say that we should all riotously be unhealthy however. I've been trying to get back into the gym, though my trips to Olin have been erratic at best. I'm working on it, though, for two reasons a) I discovered I kinda like sweating in the physical exertion sense as long as I don't get an asthma attack in the end, and b) I like muscles, they look good on me. Not to mention the glazed animal lust that crosses sundart's face when she touches my biceps. makes me want more biceps. That and I'm slowly slicing sugar out of my regular food consumption - it only makes sense, as diabetes is pretty rampant in my family. (My brother called it glucose intolerence. I kinda like that term...) But that's as far of an effort as I'm willing to take. Other than that I'm pretty healthy - don't have high cholesterol or high blood pressure, and I get sick pretty rarely. I don't own a scale, and I honestly don't really care what weight I wind up at. The interesting thing is that I've been at a fairly steady 230 for the last three years, I haven't gained more than five or six pounds in either direction from that point, so I think I've plateaued. Which I'm fine with. I'm usually pretty cozy in size 20 jeans. Considering how long it took me to get that comfy in those jeans (including living with beatgoddess for almost four years - go go gadget fat activist!), I'm not really a big fan of doing or thinking things that jeopardize that. Again, I have to live here. And I kinda like doing so. :) Heh. Ironically enough considering the above, it was timarok who actually complimented me on my non-obsession with my weight. "You don't give a shit. I admire that in a woman."

Of course I fail to mention how much sadistic fun it is discombobulating people that compliment me on how I seem to be losing weight.  Frown a little, look mildly concerned, say something along the lines of "Really? Huh. That's odd... gosh I hope I'm not getting sick. Oh well." The looks I've gotten in response to that have been utterly priceless. >:)

In other news, I'm hungry and my forehead still is all tender and hurty after I smacked it yesterday with the front door. sundart says there's a lump. Ow. ah well, off to get dressed and grab some breakfast before heading for the lab.