weight. food issues. ugh.
the two things i swore i wouldn’t write about on this blog. the hours spent- no- the hours wasted talking talking talking about weight, size, food, eating, diets blah…with my girlfriends! the last thing i wanted was to devote one more inch of space to the abyss of anxiety and loathing that this fat phobia promotes.
it is my JOB to help people. as both a therapist and as a health educator, i am trained and expert in fields of nutrition, exercise, self-esteem and body image. as such, i have tried to BE the example for my clients. endless pushups, squats, suicide sprints, kettle bell swings, rounds on the heavy bag, burpees, WEIGHTED PULLUPS…all in pursuit of some sort of madonna-esque chiseled sinew of a body. i never quite got there, but i was damn close…then i went back to grad school. twice actually. so in the past five years, i completed not just one, but two masters degree programs. and strangely, when i see people i haven’t seen in ages because of the time and attention demanded by the workload to complete my degrees, i feel a slow burn of shame. i wonder, what are they thinking? …holy shit…did she gain weight! wow she is fat!
all i can hear, see or think is FAT FAT FAT.
i put on about fifteen pounds in school. my hands tremor at even typing those words let alone saying them aloud. and the guilt and shame weigh me down so much more that it might as well be fifteen HUNDRED pounds.
but what the fuck for?
instead of being proud of myself for acquiring two additional graduate degrees, instead of cheering myself for a major life change, for following my ambitions, talents and dreams, and ACHIEVING THEM-- i berate myself for getting fat. but let’s be more honest, fat in this case is straddling a size 6 or (gasp!) sometimes an 8. seriously?
that is some fucked up and crazy shit. (my professional diagnosis no less)
i was recently talking about this with one of my girlfriends who struggles with the exact issue and we agreed: fuck this shit. what the hell is wrong with us for focusing on gaining some weight under massive strain and stress? when i was an undergrad i smoked furiously, sucking down fag after fag, chain smoking while writing papers. isn’t it better that this time around i kicked down some doritos while reading my case studies? i can breathe after all, and while my workouts may have mellowed, my vitals are all still in the healthiest of ranges.
so we made a pact. no more self-flagellating, no bemoaning or dwelling. done. when i feel bad trying to squeeze into my old size 4’s, i pull out my diplomas. yeah, shame abated. from now on…congrats to all that we ACHIEVE…in fact, congrats to me for eating that whole damn pint of ice cream sans guilt.
i have other more substantial shit to worry about…
This post is part of the 2011 Love Your Body Day Blog Carnival
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