Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Pardon me if my party hat's not on.

When I think about achievements one could muster up in life, I can dream up many things: having a book published, passing a difficult test, getting a promotion at work. Losing weight through dieting will never be one of those things I will muster up praise for.

I can’t clap my hands and say “yay!!!!” for the kind of mental trauma people put themselves through, counting calories or points and berating themselves and kicking their own asses around the block and then some if they don’t do everything just so on any given day. I can’t say “bully for you” when you talk about how hideous you look and how terrible a person you are because your thighs don’t look like a supermodel’s. I won’t encourage self-hatred. I won’t congratulate self-abuse. I won’t lead a cheer for obsession.

If that makes me a bad person or if I'm overreacting or if I'm mean-spirited, so be it. My disinterest won’t stop you from beating yourself up for not being the “real you” you think is lurking somewhere underneath your skin since there are many, many more people in the world that are willing to fall over themselves to give you kudos for weight loss. You can mutter I’m jealous because I’ve obviously “failed” and “given up” and don’t have “control” (oh, that mystical “control”). You won’t be the first person to tag me with that, believe me. I’m jealous of assorted people for many reasons, but not of the mindset that is inevitable when it comes to dieting for the purposes of weight loss. I did my time angsting over the size of my ass and it’s not a place I ever care to go back to again. If I learned anything, it was that the ever-elusive happiness that I still seek isn’t going to appear if I whittle myself down to a socially acceptable size. Satisfaction with my life won’t come simply because I can shop at a straight store. The issues that I have creaking in my cranium aren’t going to go away if I boogie down to the local J. Craig and get my salt-laden crapfeast on.

There’s a scary percentage of people who would rather get hit by a truck than look anything like me. In a life where any number of things can go horribly, horribly, horribly wrong, where we can suffer so much loss and hurt and hate and misery...really? Being hit by a truck is preferable? But I’m the one with the problem. Hmm.

5 comments:

Lisa said...

That mystical "control" can land you a lovely ED diagnosis. And you're right, it doesn't make you happy.

spacedcowgirl said...

Agreed, especially with your statement about how people who would rather die than be fat are supposedly not the ones with the perspective problem. How's that again?

April D said...

"I won’t encourage self-hatred. I won’t congratulate self-abuse. I won’t lead a cheer for obsession."

Well spoken! It is always so discouraging to me when people (especially women) around me are so quick and eager to gush over some nominal downward movement on a scale rather than real accomplishments. Tell me about the latest book you read and loved; gush about the latest dance move you learned and mastered; let me congratulate you on getting an "A" on your first Master's degree project. But stop expecting me to fall down in ecstatic glee when you've managed to cajole your body into crying away some weight. That, to me, is not an accomplishment.

Rachel said...

I think its commendable whenever someone does something to improve their health and for some people, weight loss as the result of lifestyle changes (not dieting) does improve health. So, in cases where people are fishing for weight loss compliments, I prefer to put the emphasis back on health and say "I'm glad you now feel healthier."

Jennifer said...

"The issues that I have creaking in my cranium aren’t going to go away if I boogie down to the local J. Craig and get my salt-laden crapfeast on".


As someone who's tried JC before, only to go broke and fall off the JC wagon, I love love love this!