FatGirl vs World

A week ago, the plastic surgeon that did my abdominoplasty consult said a few things that rubbed me the wrong way.  Some of those things were just hard truths ("It's going to be harder to lose weight at 37 than it was at 30."  UGH!!), some were things based on his experience and not just me ("I find it's better to do the surgery after the weight loss because people are more inclined to keep the weight off when they are pleased with what they see in the mirror."), and two things in particular just annoyed me and I want to address.

Does this mean that I don't like the doctor?  Hardly.  I like him and his staff but these are things near and dear to my heart and register as pet peeves. 

7th grade? Wearing my dad's polo and a sad bra.

Every woman's best friend and style guru, Tim Gunn, wrote a scathing article of the fashion industry's size-ism and my inner fat girl (from age 8 onward) is cheering loudly.  Mr. Gunn says:

Have you shopped retail for size 14-plus clothing? Based on my experience shopping with plus-size women, it’s a horribly insulting and demoralizing experience. Half the items make the body look larger, with features like ruching, box pleats and shoulder pads. Pastels and large-scale prints and crazy pattern-mixing abound, all guaranteed to make you look infantile or like a float in a parade. Adding to this travesty is a major department-store chain that makes you walk under a marquee that reads “WOMAN.” What does that even imply? That a “woman” is anyone larger than a 12, and everyone else is a girl? It’s mind-boggling.

It was mortifying when I was a pre-teen to have to exit the Juniors's section and venture into the Woman's section to find clothing that would fit me (anywhere from a 14-18, and a solid 36C), but would be unable to find anything because it was too mature for me.  Same thing went with shoes.  I was a size 9.5/10 in the 4th grade.  I would quite often end shopping trips with more tears than clothing and a frustrated mother.

8th grade, Goth Janet Reno

The summer before 8th grade, my mother took me a plus-sized store at the local mall.  There we bought leggings and tunics in every size and color (mustard and burgandy were big that year).  Though they made me look like a 60-year-old lady, they at least fit and covered my body.  Eighth grade hadn't even started before my mom got sick and within a month she had died.  Then came the task of finding a dress to wear to her funeral.  My father might have been more stressed out by shopping than he was at planning the funeral.  We finally found a black jumper-like size 20 dress at some store in the next town over with this green shirt to wear under it.

Coupled with the deranged haircut that I got (nb: never get a drastic hair cut while you are in mourning --Aunt Christina should have stopped me from doing that), I think anyone looking at me would assume that I hated my body, didn't want to be fashionable, and didn't care about the clothing I threw on my body.  On the contrary, I was desperate to fit in and have clothing that fit.

 I didn't shop much after my mom died.  I think partly it was just awkward to ask dad to go shopping with me (he always suggested the prep school look of plaid skirts and oxfords). I also wasn't the kind of kid to just ask for money and to be dropped off so I could do it myself. Nor was I the kind of kid to ask the women in my family for help (it comes loaded with their opinions as well). I do remember going shopping one time for my brother and asking to purchase a pair of boy's skater jeans -- you know the kind where you could fit a village in the legs.  I wore them all through 10th grade. But outside of that I just wore my mom's old clothing (her rainbow collection of turtlenecks) and hand-me-downs from dad (his plaid shirts).

With Steve S.  Ah, what a crush I had on him.

Shopping for myself was always an ordeal.  My Sweet 16 dress was a disaster of epic proportions -- a long white dress (it was only one that fit my body that was in my price range) with a crush velvet top and a chiffon bottom, at an event where we were serving Italian food buffet style. It just begged to get sauce on it.  I had tried desperately to find an age-appropriate knee-length party dress.  But when you're a 16/18 in 1997, that's a tall order. Also note the terrible hairdo (Thanks, Aunt Kathie, for taking me to your hairdresser who ignored my "don't give me bangs" mandate).

I had to have my Sweet 16 early (the problem of having an August birthday is that no one is around to come), and without any semblance of a tan, I look like a bloated ghost looking to haunt all my friends and family.

My brother's friend's younger brother, Dan. Pity date? Cause no one asked me.

Shopping was no better in 1999 and in order to circumvent the heartache of having to shop for a dress, my dad offered to have one made for me.  Why I thought a 15th-century Italian Renaissance dress was my best option, I'll never know.  But I will say that no one else had the same dress. Go me?

But somewhere in my delusion about style, I did find some peace in knowing that I wouldn't have to go to the store and find some hideous mother of the bride dress that was the only thing in my size, but still cut on the bias, with too many sequins in the wrong place, and no idea of how to make the wearer feel beautiful.

I'm actually wearing this dress today, the main difference is my pink hair.

It took a long time to know how to dress my body, and in what fabrics/cuts/styles, etc.  But it took even longer to give up feeling like the fat girl in a sack.  Sometimes that's really just looking at myself long enough until the self-criticism is replaced with a bit of self-adoration, and sometimes it's a bit of brass ovaries that don't give a fuck and knowing that I look and feel good.

But I will say this to Tim Gunn -- you're 100% right.  It's not just the clothing that's the issue for plus-sized women -- it's the whole shopping experience. I can go into a store and be ignored or directly insulted, but the worst of it all is when I go into a store and I'm not even represented.  And this is what I would want to say to designers and companies -- if your excuse is that your fashion wouldn't look good on my body, that's the fault of your design, not my body.  Cause I can make a Snuggie look sexy as hell.  If you can't step up to the plate, you lose my respect, my money, and my support.

Yes, that's a Snuggie.

(Oh and Tim -- if and when I ever get married, I'm totally going to ask you to help me find a dress.)

I'm quite fond of saying that weight loss/health gain has 3 main components (I used to say 4, but I now include it the other categories) that are not weighted equally:


I wanted to talk a little bit about the foundation work.  That little slice of the pie can look very different for different people.

For me, the first part of the foundation was coming to grips with why I put on the weight to begin with (suffering the loss of my nana and my mother).  I needed to understand that trauma before I could effect any meaningful change in my life.  Otherwise, I'd be doomed to repeat the coping mechanism of eating over and over again.  I spent a good year in therapy to deal with my anxiety and did more work with my dietician to help understand the relationship between food and my sadness/need for connection.

The second part of my foundation had to do with coming to grips with my health and my body metrics.  I'm still going through this; starting over as someone with Celiac Disease and what that means for my diet and how I need to compensate.  But when I was first starting out, I think I needed to exhaust myself of all the excuses that absolved me of responsibility (such as a thyroid condition).  I needed to accept that my body was the result of my choices.  I needed to know my baselines -- my body chemistry, my body measurements (weight and tape measure) and my physical ability.

The third part was about changing my environment, my patterns, and my relationships.  It's not fun to take a look at your life and realize all the places that are pitfalls.  I had to own all the places in my life where I was able to make better choices but didn't -- because it was easy, it was what I always did, or what everyone was doing.  I had to be selfish and say "If I want my life to change, I need to change these things in my life."  And there was a lot of pain here as well as catharsis.  Doing this created space in my life to add things that would not only benefit me but benefit the people I cared about.

And the fourth part (that used to be its own category) is what I like to call "recovery."  I said that I integrated it into each category -- and it looks different in each category.  Foundation recovery is giving yourself the permission to take care of yourself and to let go of the rest.  Let go of the pain that disables you, let go of the grudge that eats away at you, let go of the people that bring you more sorrow than joy.  And then let go of the guilt of letting go.  Know that you can do these things and still survive.

I've been talking to my dad about his foundation, his path.  I said this to him privately, but I'll say this to you all (and to him) right here -- "I want your heart and mind to embrace this process.  Nothing to fear or avoid."  If you lay the foundation right, everything else becomes a product of self-discovery, of joy, of pride.  And none of it is because you're punishing yourself.  And that's what makes this time different than all the other times.

**POSSIBLE TRIGGERS:  Please proceed with caution!!**

So... the whole Nicole Arbour "Dear Fat People" video thing... 

**deep breath**

1.  Obese people are fat, not blind.  We know we're fat.  We don't need some chick with a big mouth and a rabid following not talking to us but rather yelling at us as if we're complete idiots.  It's not like we need some Youtube channel to provide the same epiphany our very own eyes can provide.  

1a.  She makes a joke about fat people not being able to chase her down... LOL.  She doesn't know about us athletic fat people -- you know, the ones that finish marathons, IronMans, Tough Mudders, etc.  And she also doesn't know about sneaky, light-on-our-feet fat people that don't need to be fast because we're so nimbly bimbly after all those Zumba, yoga, and barre classes. She forgets about the strong ones who could dead lift her heartless, humorless body. 

1b.  There are many of us who aren't strong enough to weather the gale-force bullshit spewing from her mouth ("You have to be really f*cking slow to be offended by satire," she says in the [follow-up] video. "If you can't handle the truth it means you're a psychopath.").  And for as much as she thinks her "truth bombs" can help people, there's collateral damage for which she doesn't seem willing to take responsibility.  She offered some lame ass apology, "I never intended for kids to be watching it and I'm sorry if any kids who didn't understand that I'm a comedian were shocked or upset."  As if kids are the only ones who can be hurt by her words.

2. Yay! Another skinny person telling us how our fatness offends them using the transparent guise of "helping us."  **eyeroll**  If you want to help people, you ASK what they need.  And not all fat people are created alike, and not all fat people need the same help.  Some people need easy things like motivation, accountability, recipes.  Some people need experts (see below).

2b.  No where in her video or links does she offer actual help.  No online resources or support groups.  No recommendations to go see your doctor and get a physical, work with a dietitian, work with a NASM-certified trainer.  Nothing.  

3.  Her OPINION (i.e., not really a "truth bomb") really misses the mark.  In my opinion (based on talking to a lot of people, reading a lot of books, studies, and other materials) excessive body fat is a symptom more than it is a disease. I have said time and time again that I think that obesity is more often than not the byproduct of trauma (physical, mental, psychological, sexual).  And the more I started thinking about it, the more I came to believe that most food/exercise/body disorders (as they're interrelated and on a spectrum) are as well. (And if it's not trauma, there's still other outside forces that can influence a person's size, shape, and health -- but I'll leave it to other people to argue socioeconomic and other points.) 

3a.  Making fun of the survivors of trauma makes her an asshole, not a comedian.  

3b. Making fun of the survivors of trauma for not being able to wrap their heads/bodies around the trauma in their lives doesn't help people to address the trauma.  It re-traumatizes them.   For example, look at how many people gain or lose weight as a barrier between them and the people who sexually abused them.  You wouldn't yell at a bulimic to eat a cheeseburger when the real issue was someone violating their body.  Equally, you shouldn't tell a fat person to put down the cheeseburger when the real issue was someone violating their body. 

3c.  People who have endured trauma should probably start with professional help. 
(a) Cause you never know what trauma is lurking underneath all the layers of fat, and sometimes what's lurking needs a safe place to make its debut.
(b) It's really easy to transfer one harmful behavior to another.  For instance -- people who go from being food addicts to exercise addicts is not a myth.  It's an actual thing.
(c) People have been known to do some pretty harmful things in order to chase down their unrealistic goals. 

I'm sure there's more... but I'm kinda annoyed with myself for even giving it this much time/thought when really I should have just said "Bitch please."

Old photo is a perfect salute to Nicole.

You know the world has come full circle when your coworker sends you an email saying that you might be interested in a story/video and it ends up being a familiar face — the very lovely Meghan Tonjes — who I have been acquainted with for a while via Twitter.  Apparently she's been getting into some hot water with Tumblr and Instagram (though they have now backtracked) over showing progress photos of her weight loss, including a photo of her butt that she is very proud of.

SPOILERS....

Does the Biggest Loser want strong or do they want thin?

The Biggest Loser started with a doctor's premise:  Dr. Huizenga (former doctor for the Raiders football organization) saw very large and athletic linebackers being able to exercise and lose weight (off season), so why couldn't the average overweight/obese person.  His focus was on simple exercises (calisthenics) to start and then increasing the challenge, walking, and a healthy diet.  NBC has bastardized this original premise. 

My favorite episodes always used to be the ones where Dr. H would give people devastating news about what they had done to their bodies -- their body fat percentages, pre-diabetes, diabetes, heart disease, sleep apnea -- but the simple hope that just by exercising and eating reasonably, that they could reverse the harm done to their bodies.  That episode began in tears and ended in determination and hope.  Later in the season, they'd meet with Dr. H again and learn that they had indeed done what he had promised:  they were no longer diabetic, they no longer had sleep apnea.  They were no longer killing themselves; they had learned how to live.

Over the years, Dr. H's presence and influence on the show has decreased.  As his presence has decreased, the focus on weight over health has increased.  Ever notice how one third of the show is dedicated to the weigh-in and the results?  Ever notice how they talk less and less about the diseases of obesity? America just wants to bottom line -- how much weight did they lose?

So...doot da doo... last night's finale has definitely caused a stir, to put it mildly.

I want to really separate a few issues here:

1.  People on Facebook are trying to finger wag at me b/c I'm discussing another person's body.  I'm not trying to fat shame or thin shame.  Like I said on FB, I think that concern is driving the whole debate.  People in the weight loss/health gain community are worried for Rachel as well as concerned for how viewers might perceive Rachel winning. I believe that the same psychological issues that contribute to people being obese can also swing the other way.  People lose weight and become addicted to the weight loss.  I've seen it with my own eyes more than I'd care to admit.

2.  The CDC says that the slower one loses the weight, the greater the chances are that the person will keep it off (i.e., not yo-yo).  I haven't been able to find an official start date for the filming of Season 15, but I know that she lost 155lbs in less than a year (She's 5'4" and weighs 105lbs now (a BMI of under 18.5).  That's fast.  I'll leave it up to the experts to determine whether it is too fast.  However, I just want to remind people that there are health risks associated with losing weight that fast -- the main concern being how the heart (a very important muscle) will react.

3.  I've made it very clear on most social media networks (especially when I ask weight loss celebrities why they're hosting DietBet competitions where the focus is on weight loss, not body fat percentage or positive behaviors) that I'm a firm believer that the best way to determine health is by a blood test, fitness tests, and an honest look at a person's behaviors and life.  The Biggest Loser relies on the scale as a measure of health.  If you lose more, you must be healthy.  In the case of last night's finale, people (including myself) that Rachel had gone beyond healthy and into unhealthy once again.  We don't know that for sure, we'd need to see her blood test results.  But our guts are telling us that she went too far.

4.  So why did she go too far?  If you've watched BL15, you know that Rachel is a competitive person and that she likes to win.  This is a great motivator, but also needs to be kept in check.  Any look at humanity and you know people will go to great lengths to win--even if it's illegal (ahem, Tonya Harding), unhealthy, or unsafe.  I remember the end of last week's episode how great Rachel looked after winning the triathlon.  I wondered what more she had to lose in terms of weight.  She was fast, strong, happy, healthy.  At the finale, she looked like she wouldn't be able to win a triathlon, let alone finish it.

5.  So that makes me wonder -- should The Biggest Loser change the "winning" criteria -- that you have to pass a physical examination (metabolic fitness, blood work, not be malnourished, healthy bone density, electrolytes in balance), or that the triathlon should be run or repeated a few days before the finale to ensure that the focus is on fitness, not thinness? Should a contestant be disqualified for calorie restricting beyond the recommended daily intake? Should the Biggest Loser enact fail safe measures to ensure the safety of the contestants?

6.  My dietitian weighed in on all of this:

7.  This just raises every concern that I have about how people love to talk about the obesity epidemic, but not the eating disorder epidemic.  Kids younger and younger are admitting to eating disorders. More and more adults are admitting to eating disorders or disordered eating.  IF Rachel won by calorie restricting (again, this is speculation based on what I know of weight loss), what does it say that The Biggest Loser crowned her the winner of season 15?  What does it say about us as an audience if we don't at least raise concern for this young woman's long-term health? She's not a prop or a character on a TV show.  She's an actual person.  We should put her health over the show's ratings.

8.  People are saying that she probably wanted to lose a little extra to add to her lead going in to the finale, and that she'll probably gain some weight back once the season is now over.  Is it just me or is this type of justification disturbing?  It's the same type of justification for the people who do ridiculous things all to lose just a few more pounds.  They've lost the ability to know when enough is enough.  There wasn't someone looking out for her saying "you're doing this the wrong way."

But who are we to judge what one woman did to win $250,000 and the title of The Biggest Loser. 

**raises an eyebrow** 

I don't know what the answers are.  I just know in my gut that something isn't right (and I'm not talking about Rachel's body... I'm talking about the environment in which health is no longer the focus).
As a weight loss/health gain community, I think we need to talk more about what a healthy life looks like versus what healthy bodies are supposed to look like (because our eyes don't really know... unless someone has x-ray vision that they're not owning up to).

This valiant woman in North Dakota has taken it upon herself to inform her neighbor's children that they are overweight/obese by giving them a letter instead of candy this Halloween.

Some initial thoughts: 

1.  She's giving the letters to kids, but addressing it to the parents.  This, in my mind, is spineless, cowardly, passive aggressive, and just plain cruel. If the woman is so concerned about how a person is parenting then she should have a face-to-face conversation with the parent.  (You know, she should be willing to get punched in the face for what she believes in.)
2. She's not a doctor.  She's not a pediatrician or a pediatric dietician.  She's just a person with an over-reaching opinion and a sense of entitlement. 
3. If she doesn't want to contribute to the childhood obesity epidemic, she could give out "treats" that aren't food -- stickers, toys, glow sticks, etc.
4. This completely ignores the other epidemic -- kids are getting eating disorders at younger and younger ages.  Having a stranger comment and criticize your weight is a very good way to start cultivating a negative body image. 

If you know my full name, you know why this is funny.

In 1991, my grandmother died.  That was the very start of my weight gain.  Every year after that, I anguished over not being able to fit into all the costumes designed for kids.  My mom tried her best to find something that was age appropriate, that would fit, and that I liked, but it really soured me on the experience.

I knew I was bigger than all the other kids.  I didn't need some asshole neighbor telling me just how much I didn't fit in with all the other kids.  I didn't need some asshole neighbor to add insult to the injury.  And if some asshole neighbor had given me that letter to give it to my parents (1) I would have read it first (cause you know kids can read nowadays) and (2) my parents may or may not have asked me where that person lived.

I'm not saying that this lady should give out candy.  That's her choice as to what to do -- but if you don't have enough to share with the whole class, don't bring in the cupcakes.  Kids are very sensitive to being excluded and ridiculed.

This morning, I was listening to the tail-end of The Bert Show's discussion on the Maria Kang photo below:


He asked the question "...What's YOUR excuse for not being in shape like her? Does she have a point...or is she bullying/body shaming?"

Now, I don't think that's something that could be answered in a 140 character tweet, or even in a Facebook status message/reply.  So I'm going to address it here:

1.   You have to go to her Web site/Facebook page to know anything about her.  Did she lose weight? Is she maintaining weight?  What did she look like before the kids?  Does she have help?  Who's watching the kids while she's exercising?  Considering that many people won't investigate, I feel that it is important to say that FitSpo photo lives in a vacuum. There's too much left up to the viewer's perception, and thus can be perceived as bullying by some and inspiration by others. I think people should be more inspired by a person's struggle and/or process than by any particular result. 

2.   Sometimes the "excuse" is actually a very good reason.  Many times I've written about how I believe that most people are obese because of some sort of trauma.  For some people it's emotional, for some people it's physical.  In the case of emotional trauma, normal coping mechanisms have failed and are replaced by things that flood the brain with serotonin (food, alcohol, drugs). The "excuse" is that people haven't confronted these issues in a safe and nurtured environment.  Some people aren't ready to do that.  In the case of physical trauma, such as my bad back, exercising isn't always an option.  Even now, there are limits to what I can and should do.  Sometimes the reason is that there are other parts of a person's life that are more important than making sure they are aesthetically pleasing.  People should not feel guilty about taking care of themselves the best way they know how, even if it means not being in a gym every day.

3.   Thin doesn't necessarily mean healthy.   If her goal was to encourage people to be healthy (she has a fitness non-profit), she'd post her blood tests, as they're the most accurate gauge of a person's health.  I would HATE for someone to look at me, assume that I'm lazy and unhealthy just because I'm overweight, when my own doctor lauds the improvements that I've made on the inside of my body.  I've worked very hard to be overweight (instead of obese) and I still don't look like her (nor do I want to).  I also know that there are plenty of women and men out there that are getting positive feedback on their bodies as a result of eating disorders.  If you read anything about her, you'll find out that she struggled with eating disorders.  Is her desire to drop the pregnancy weight so soon after giving birth the healthiest thing for her to do? (see below)

4.  Mothers should not be shamed into losing their pregnancy weight immediately after giving birth.  I've never had a kid.  I know many people who have.  And some people have lost the weight easily and returned to their pre-pregnancy body easily and while many others have needed more time to get their pre-pregnancy body back.  Some women actually enjoy the "permission" to enjoy their post-pregnancy body.  It's the first time in their life that they are able to lose their food rules, get off the treadmill, and enjoy their body.  They're also taking time to enjoy motherhood instead of scheduling their time at the gym.  Again, that's a choice, not an excuse.  And dare I even mention the rise in stories regarding the pressure for moms to drop the weight triggering eating disorders?

5.  Fitness is her job.  It was to her benefit to lose the weight -- as she's a fitness model, runs a fitness non-profit, etc.  She makes money off of her image.  The controversy is just getting her name out there ("there's no such thing as bad press").  Imagine if the quotation was "What's your motivation?" instead of "What's your excuse?" -- we'd very clearly assume that aesthetics and profit are her motivation (wouldn't it be nice if her kids were her motivation).  Not everyone makes money off their body (not everyone wants to).  

Now, she's replying to the media storm over the photo, and I don't really buy it.  She did a "Sorry, I'm not sorry."  But I'm glad there's some dialogue happening about why her picture with caption was so misguided. I'm glad that people are talking about why FitSpo photos and slogans are negative to all the hard work that people are putting into body acceptance in their own lives and in the world.

What say you?

Once upon a time (7/12/2010), I posted a blog entry named "More of that Journalistic Integrity BS" in which, much like the Great Oz, I stepped out from behind the curtain to reveal myself:


I broke New Rule #3 ("I will not think badly about myself when I look in the mirror.") a gazillion times.
Heck, it's the rule I break most often, without fail. No only do I have an adversarial relationship with the mirror, I have an adversarial relationship with my body.  (For all the bravado of FGvW, Robby is pretty insecure).

For as much as I scrutinized the photo above, I don't have the traditional type of body dysmorphic disorder where I think I'm larger than I truly am.  I am quite the opposite.  When I close my eyes and run my hands over my body, I see and feel the person underneath the fat suit.  When I open my eyes, I'm disappointed with what I see--a body that doesn't represent who I am at this moment, but is the legacy of all the bad decisions that I've made and all the past pain in my life. I look at myself and don't see me. I see a prisoner.

This ties in to how many people say to me "but you aren't fat..." and how I feel bad calling myself FatGirlvsWorld when I know many women (and men) who are larger than I am.  It's the fat brain (the one that fears gaining it all back).  No matter how much weight I lose, how fast I run, how strong I am, or how much I truly love myself, I still think that my body just doesn't represent who I truly am on the inside.  In other words, there's a cognitive dissonance between who I think I am (mentally, physically, etc.) and the physical reality of who I am.  The result is frustration and scrutinizing.

Yesterday, I got a new bikini from H&M (as well as a dress and a light jacket).  When in the dressing room, I was utterly horrified by the way the lighting made me look, but I closed my eyes and tried to let my inner vixen make the decision about whether or not I wanted the bikini. Inner vixen said yes, I do want this bikini.

I put it on when I got home and wanted to show the world my purchase, but my old nemesis, the mirror started playing tricks on me:


But in the end, I posted the picture (at 2 am... hours after I took the photo):


Nota bene:  I'm not giving you the finger, I'm giving the fat the finger.  Why?

oh typos...

I feel like such a hypocrite when I am all "RAWR, YOU MUST LOVE YOUR BODY" and at the same time I'm deeply insecure -- but the truth of the matter is that perception sometimes feels truthier than the truth.  Who among us hasn't had the misalignment where your heart and mind completely love you, but your eyes betray that progress? 

So yes, I think too much.  I intellectualize things that should be visceral and natural.  But holding up that mirror to myself to understand why I think the way I do about my own body is the foundation work that I need in order to make a permanent change. Eventually the way I perceive myself/my body will match how I see myself/my body.  Make sense?

In other news, RAWR -- I look pretty hot in the new bikini, eh? It's a great color on my pale ass, Irish skin.

BTW, I love all the tweets and blog posts that are flying in the face of magazines' "Bikini Ready Body" -- all you really need to wear a bikini is SPF and chutzpah.

I've written before, in passing, about psychologist/Buddhist practitioner Tara Brach and her book, Radical Acceptance.  I just wanted to take an opportunity, on this Mother's Day eve, to talk a little about it in the context of how we care for ourselves.

The book starts out with an anecdote about how her friend was learning to be "her own best friend." Tara had a visceral reaction to this: 

A huge wave of sadness came over me, and I broke down sobbing.  I was the furthest thing from my own best friend.  I was continually harassed by an inner judge who was merciless, relentless, nit-picking, driving, often invisible but always on the job.  I knew I would never treat a friend the way I treated myself, without mercy or kindness.  My guiding assumption was "Something is fundamentally wrong with me," and I struggled to control and fix what felt like a basically flawed self.

 Strikes a cord, right?

When we experience our lives through this lens of personal insufficiency, we are imprisoned in what I call the trance of unworthiness.  Trapped in this trance, we are unable to perceive the truth of who we really are.  [ . . . ]

[B]ecause our habits of feeling insufficient are so strong, awakening from the trance involves not only inner resolve, but active training of the heart and mind.  Through Buddhist awareness practices, we free ourselves from the suffering of trance by learning to recognize what is true in the present moment, and by embracing whatever we see with an open heart.  This cultivation of mindfulness and compassion is what I call Radical Acceptance.

[Radical Acceptance] is the necessary antidote to years of neglecting ourselves, years of judging and treating ourselves harshly, years of rejecting this moment's experience and our life as it is.  A moment of Radical Acceptance is a moment of genuine freedom. 

(1) I'm not trying to sell you Buddhism, and (2) I didn't mean to quote half of the prologue;  however, I do think that each and every one of us have had moments where we feel that "something is fundamentally wrong with me" and if you've ever picked up a magazine or watched TV, that message has been reinforced with a bit of "something is fundamentally wrong with you."

Marketers LOVE to prey on this insecurity.  I love the story of how Listerine made halitosis a household word, and not the other way around.  Think about how many other products prey on the insecurity of "ZOMG my breath must smell bad and offend everyone around me!"  Cosmetics companies sell the paranoia that we are being scrutinized (oh noes! fine lines! blackheads!), so we must use harsh chemicals to strip the natural, protective oils on our skin and hair, and then cover it up with some unnatural oils, and then, in the case of women, put on a mask or dye (there's a big difference between "enhance" and "cover").  Our natural scents are offensive and so we must prevent and/or neutralize it (antiperspirant/deodorant), or completely mask it with a perfume, cologne or body spray.

We're sold apparel to make us look taller, thinner, younger, fitter, with bigger/anti-gravity boobs, bigger butts, bigger packages, etc.  How could we possibly attract a mate if we showed up looking like our natural selves?!  How could you possibly feel good about yourself leaving the house looking like that?

The food industry sells us this idea as well as the exercise/gym world.  Not only are they homogenizing our food resources (corn! soy! fake sugars!), but they sell the idea of one vision of health -- the thin, flexible, young (usually white) woman, and the beefy, unnaturally muscled/tanned/oiled man with the perfect head of hair.  Until we look like mirror images of them, something is wrong with our bodies -- we should seek improvement immediately!  We are told that our insides are toxic and so we must detox and cleanse them.  We're told (ahem, Biggest Loser/Bob Harper) that we should restrict calories and increase activity to achieve aesthetic ideals, which is very different than educating people on how to make a healthy choice for themselves.  Just scare the bejeebus out of them by telling them something's wrong with them and that you have the cure.

I remember getting a pamphlet when I was 10/11 telling me that this magical thing was going to happen to my body, and that it would be marked by "secondary sex characteristics" (i.e., not just the joy of my "monthly friend"):  arrival of body and pubic hair; boobs and hips would get bigger; etc.  But from the onset, I was taught to be ashamed of these things:  my mother insisted on a bra that would compress my breasts; and though leg and underarm hair was a sign that I was becoming a woman, I was to remove all traces of it.  As an adult, I'm aware of a whole industry surrounding the insecurities that women feel towards their own vaginas and pubic hair (and shame on you men and lesbians for compounding this insecurity by asking/insisting that your lover be shaven/waxed -- it's up to her and her alone, just be happy that you were invited to the party).  

**deep breath**  I'm rambling, aren't I?

The whole point of what I'm trying to get at is that whatever it is that anyone of us may or may not be doing to improve our health should (1) be an expression of the love that we have for ourselves at this very moment, (2) not a result of fear, insecurity, or perceived unworthiness, (3) not come at the expense of our whole self.  We should not introduce behaviors, people, or products in our lives that seek to undermine that love with fear or insecurity.


I was talking with a friend the other day about our shared anxiety disorder, dermatillomania and said:  The hardest part of the work, for me, is trying to get it through my thick skull that black heads, white heads, ingrown hairs... etc... all have a way of working themselves out -- that if I just wash with soap and water, my body will take care of the rest -- that I don't need to play doctor and fix it.

What an amazing concept -- I'm not something broken that needs to be fixed.

I am loveable, worthy, and beautiful just the way I am, even if that's moments after stepping out of the shower, without makeup, without my contacts, without clothing that reverses the effects of gravity, or even without brushing my teeth.  Even if I didn't go to the gym that day, even if I split a donut with a friend, even if I popped a pimple, even if I just farted, I'm still worthy of loving my beautiful self.

In a shot heard 'round the world, Abercrombie & Fitch's CEO doesn't want fat chicks wearing their clothing.

I feel you and all of your righteous indignation when clothing makers decide to cut-off their sizes at a certain point and that just so happens to not include you.  I empathize to a degree.  I hear all of your love for brands that decide to include larger sizes.  I see your pom-poms.

But the truth is that even if they did go up to size 16, there would still be people left out.  Even if they went up to size 20, there would still be people that can't shop there.  And that's okay.  That's their choice.  Producing clothing over a certain size requires the patterns to change, which requires different factory setups.  At some point, they just do a cost-benefit analysis and decide that they aren't going to expand the sizes.

What people are mad at is that this CEO decided to paint a very bleak picture about size and acceptance.  Are we mad because he's a jerkface and pointed out the disparity about how differently people are treated because of their size, or are we mad because he's making money off of it?

That's for y'all to debate if you wish.  I just want to remind you that, as consumers, we yield not just a lot of power with our dollars and how we spend them, we also have a voice. And in this case, I choose to believe that Abercrombie & Fitch just wants to see me naked.  I mean, I don't blame them.  I'm pretty hot naked.

So wouldn't that be the best kind of protest?  A naked flash mob of people they're unwilling to clothe.  I don't like flash mobs in general (the kind that sing and dance) but heck, if you're going to flash someone, might as well bring friends.

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Yesterday, I also took the time to cause a little trouble:

1. For me to be "skinny," I'd have to lose a lot of muscle.  And well muscle is sexy, so that isn't happening.  I'd rather be healthy, strong, fast, confident.  Skinny is for the birds.  (That isn't to say that I know plenty of people who are healthy and slim, but "skinny" seems to be a status symbol, not an indicator of actual health and happiness).
2.  from what I've heard (and the BL history supports this) -- he's recommending women eat a diet of 800 calories (for 2 weeks).  That type of calorie restricting (no matter how long) IS NOT HEALTHY and promotes disordered eating habits.
3. If you've been reading my blog (thank you) or following me on Twitter (thank you), we're probably like-minded (i.e., don't have our heads up our asses) in that we know that exercise requires fuel. 800 calories is barely enough to support someone in a coma, let alone someone leading an active, physically fit life.
4. He's teaching people how to live 2 weeks of their life -- not how to live the rest of their life.  If you can't do it every day for the rest of your life, then it's a gimmick (right up there with his diet pills).  And slapping the word "skinny" on it just panders to all the insecurities we have.  And because it's Bob Fucking Harper (or Jillian Fucking Michaels), people buy into it. 

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So... please take a stand with me and show the world (see where I get the whole "vs World" bit from?) that HEALTH and HAPPINESS are more important than labels ('fashionable' or 'skinny').  That's the club you want to belong to.



May 11, 2011



September 22, 2012 with Ms. Bitchcakes!

You know that sinking feeling when you know (1) you've just taken a horrible picture and (2) when you know you've gained back the weight you fought so hard to lose?  Yeah.... that.

Then to make matters worse...the external self-judgment:

The other day, Austin Andrews (@RetroFitAustin -- one of the finalists from Season 11 of the Biggest Loser) tweeted the following:

 

PERFECTION per·fec·tion noun \pər-ˈfek-shən\

1: the quality or state of being perfect: as (a) freedom from fault or defect : flawlessness (b) maturity (c) the quality or state of being saintly

2 (a) an exemplification of supreme excellence (b) an unsurpassable degree of accuracy or excellence

3: the act or process of perfecting

In that moment, all that mattered was that I was breathing.  There were no expectations, no judgments, just relief and joy because I was alive.  Having 10 fingers, 10 toes, and being in perfect health was a gift.  Even if I had arrived early, had 9 toes, and/or screamed incessantly for hours, it didn't matter.  There was a time in my life when my parents called me perfection. 

There has been a lot of time in between now and those first moments (almost 31 years), and lots of things have either succeeded in convincing me that I am not perfect or tried their hardest.  Self-doubt.  Letting society tell me how I should feel about myself.  Striving and failing.