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mousmeThis is a reply I made to a filtered post about Body Image, but I want to keep it around as a reminder to myself too. This person, who shall remain unidentified unless they choose to reveal themselves, mentioned that they were very comfortable being large (300+ pounds) and were uncomfortable with the whole Overeaters Anoynymous/Weight Watchers thing, which seemed to work entirely based on shame.
This brought me back to thinking about my own body image issues, which are very very present in my life, although it doesn't come out a lot in my LJ entries. Once in a while I've come out and talked about them, but most of the time I'm even ashamed to admit to feeling the way I do, and so I stay silent.
Today, I'm going to talk about it, however.
I was on the Weight Watchers program for about eight months two years ago, and at the time I thought it was just what I was looking for: it was supposedly "sensible" eating with no hidden agenda —just kind, concerned people who had overcome their "problem" and who wanted to help me with mine.
In retrospect, I have come to think of this as a total crock.
Ever since the age of about twelve or thirteen, I was assaulted with the message that I was unattractive. This has remained ingrained ever since. No matter how hard I try, I can't look in the mirror and see anything but a human being who, while not repulsive, doesn't really have much going for her in terms of looks. It doesn't matter how many people tell me the opposite, somewhere there's a part of me that refuses to believe it's true.
I have at least learned to take compliments graciously, even when I don't believe them. People get annoyed when you don't take their compliments, and I have learned that they are usually genuine and honest and truly believed. Telling someone that what they're saying about you isn't true is invalidating and rude, and compliments *do* make me feel good, even though the little voice at the back of my head keeps screaming that the person must be mistaken or is lying. I don't think people would lie to me about that: what would be the point? Rationally speaking, that is. So I smile and thank them, because I know it's a generous gesture made in good faith.
Anyway, back to two years ago. I heard about Weight Watchers from a friend of mine who was not significantly overweight. She just happened to have a heavy hip–bottom aread, which I thought looked nice on her. She lost that weight, however, and recommended Weight Watchers to me when I mentioned in passing that I would also like to lose weight.
I pounced on the idea. I was desperate by then, desperately unhappy with who I was and how my life was turning out, in spite of the outward appearance of success. On top of it all, a more sedentary lifestyle meant I had gained even more weight, to which I attributed most of my current unhappiness with myself.
So I convinced myself that my losing weight and reaching the "target weight" that was society's acceptable standard for a person of my height, then everything else would come easily and all my problems would be solved. If only I were thin, then people would like me better, I'd be more successful, and my parents would finally approve of me.
Needless to say, that didn't happen.
The end of my Weight Watchers episode coincided with the end of a five-year hypomanic period (yikes!), when I spiralled into the worst period of depression I'd ever known. I gained back all the weight I'd lost, and about ten pounds more.
I am nowhere near having a positive body image, but I am closer today to that goal than I was two years ago, when I thought that reaching a "target weight" would somehow magically solve all my problems. I thought I had no illusions at the time, that I wasn't placing unrealistic expectations on myself, but I was.
While I was on the program, I tried very hard to follow the it, but I was constantly hungry on the portions they said were "normal." I spent all my spare time fantasizing about food, a lot like anorexics, and occasionally I "lapsed" and ate far "too much" in an attempt to compensate for all the nutrition I was lacking.
I have yet to rid myself entirely of the unhealthy eating patterns I developed while on that program. I think the program has merit —in certain areas— but a once a week half-hour meeting is *certainly* not enough support for such a drastic change in lifestyle. Basically, unless you have someone to help you out a lot more than that, it's next to impossible to change your eating habits and remain healthy.
So what happened at Weight Watchers was that I trained myself to ignore the signals my body was sending me: food cravings, even outright hunger.
The result? It all came to a head this January, when I had to be hospitalised as a result of a bout with the 'flu. I've been depriving my body of the nutrients it needs most for nearly two years, and my body finally gave me a swift kick in the ass so I would get the message.
Why am I posting this? I mean, it's just one story, and likely doesn't reflect everyone's reality.
My point is, I nearly destroyed myself because I couldn't be happy with who I was, because I was taught that who I was wasn't good enough, wasn't acceptable. I didn't destroy myself in a dramatic way, like anorexia or bulemia or overeating to the point of morbid obesity (a term I hate, btw).
It's fine to want to be healthy, to be fit, but in our world the word "fit" has become almost interchangeable with "thin" and that simply isn't true.
I'm going to have to claw my way out of a ravine that I dug all by myself, and I don't wish this fate on anyone else, not even my worst enemy.
This brought me back to thinking about my own body image issues, which are very very present in my life, although it doesn't come out a lot in my LJ entries. Once in a while I've come out and talked about them, but most of the time I'm even ashamed to admit to feeling the way I do, and so I stay silent.
Today, I'm going to talk about it, however.
I was on the Weight Watchers program for about eight months two years ago, and at the time I thought it was just what I was looking for: it was supposedly "sensible" eating with no hidden agenda —just kind, concerned people who had overcome their "problem" and who wanted to help me with mine.
In retrospect, I have come to think of this as a total crock.
Ever since the age of about twelve or thirteen, I was assaulted with the message that I was unattractive. This has remained ingrained ever since. No matter how hard I try, I can't look in the mirror and see anything but a human being who, while not repulsive, doesn't really have much going for her in terms of looks. It doesn't matter how many people tell me the opposite, somewhere there's a part of me that refuses to believe it's true.
I have at least learned to take compliments graciously, even when I don't believe them. People get annoyed when you don't take their compliments, and I have learned that they are usually genuine and honest and truly believed. Telling someone that what they're saying about you isn't true is invalidating and rude, and compliments *do* make me feel good, even though the little voice at the back of my head keeps screaming that the person must be mistaken or is lying. I don't think people would lie to me about that: what would be the point? Rationally speaking, that is. So I smile and thank them, because I know it's a generous gesture made in good faith.
Anyway, back to two years ago. I heard about Weight Watchers from a friend of mine who was not significantly overweight. She just happened to have a heavy hip–bottom aread, which I thought looked nice on her. She lost that weight, however, and recommended Weight Watchers to me when I mentioned in passing that I would also like to lose weight.
I pounced on the idea. I was desperate by then, desperately unhappy with who I was and how my life was turning out, in spite of the outward appearance of success. On top of it all, a more sedentary lifestyle meant I had gained even more weight, to which I attributed most of my current unhappiness with myself.
So I convinced myself that my losing weight and reaching the "target weight" that was society's acceptable standard for a person of my height, then everything else would come easily and all my problems would be solved. If only I were thin, then people would like me better, I'd be more successful, and my parents would finally approve of me.
Needless to say, that didn't happen.
The end of my Weight Watchers episode coincided with the end of a five-year hypomanic period (yikes!), when I spiralled into the worst period of depression I'd ever known. I gained back all the weight I'd lost, and about ten pounds more.
I am nowhere near having a positive body image, but I am closer today to that goal than I was two years ago, when I thought that reaching a "target weight" would somehow magically solve all my problems. I thought I had no illusions at the time, that I wasn't placing unrealistic expectations on myself, but I was.
While I was on the program, I tried very hard to follow the it, but I was constantly hungry on the portions they said were "normal." I spent all my spare time fantasizing about food, a lot like anorexics, and occasionally I "lapsed" and ate far "too much" in an attempt to compensate for all the nutrition I was lacking.
I have yet to rid myself entirely of the unhealthy eating patterns I developed while on that program. I think the program has merit —in certain areas— but a once a week half-hour meeting is *certainly* not enough support for such a drastic change in lifestyle. Basically, unless you have someone to help you out a lot more than that, it's next to impossible to change your eating habits and remain healthy.
So what happened at Weight Watchers was that I trained myself to ignore the signals my body was sending me: food cravings, even outright hunger.
The result? It all came to a head this January, when I had to be hospitalised as a result of a bout with the 'flu. I've been depriving my body of the nutrients it needs most for nearly two years, and my body finally gave me a swift kick in the ass so I would get the message.
Why am I posting this? I mean, it's just one story, and likely doesn't reflect everyone's reality.
My point is, I nearly destroyed myself because I couldn't be happy with who I was, because I was taught that who I was wasn't good enough, wasn't acceptable. I didn't destroy myself in a dramatic way, like anorexia or bulemia or overeating to the point of morbid obesity (a term I hate, btw).
It's fine to want to be healthy, to be fit, but in our world the word "fit" has become almost interchangeable with "thin" and that simply isn't true.
I'm going to have to claw my way out of a ravine that I dug all by myself, and I don't wish this fate on anyone else, not even my worst enemy.
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no subject
Date: 2003-03-03 09:12 pm (UTC)Weight
Date: 2003-03-03 09:20 pm (UTC)Personally, I've never felt any significant body-image stress(excepting a few individual embarassing instances, e.g. high-school locker rooms). While I've certainly been aware that I'm on the heavy side, I just haven't ever been concerned enough to take the time to worry about it. I say this not at all to claim that such things are easily overcome, but only to agree with your friend that it is entirely possible to be overweight and very content. (I also recognize that there could be gender-related differences in our situations). I suppose I do have a vague concern that I might keel over at age 45 with my life's work unfinished, but this is quite a different matter.
Re: Modified Body Image stuff from a reply to someone's post
Date: 2003-03-03 11:30 pm (UTC)I understand this. Thoughts of my belly being too large have come up in my mind a lot lately. I know that it's not really a big deal but it's the one thing that I'm self-conscious about. I worry that I'm going to be one of those men that they make dunlap jokes about.
Thank you for sharing this. I'm going to try to figure out a way to deal with my stomach which is larger than I want it to be.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 03:21 am (UTC)half an hour a week is totally not enough to help support a drastic change in lifestyle, I think thats why groups of people join up together, to support each other.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 06:09 am (UTC)I know damn well they wouldn't work for me, though. When faced with any group saying 'Do this and you can be like us' my knee-jerk reaction is 'Nuts to that'.
I can vividly remember being nineteen or so and sitting on a bus, and seeing my reflection in the window and thinking 'Hey, it wouldn't launch a thousand ships, but I'm okay with that. It's a good strong face, and it's mine.' It's something I use as a touchstone when I'm having a bad day.
Though, for the record, on the one photograph I remember seeing of you you looked very attractive.