So I committed my adolescence and early adulthood to yo-yo and fad dieting, praying for the day when I could shed my chubby duckling shell and transform into the slender swan that I was no doubt meant to be (especially since I have such freakishly skinny wrists and ankles; I never had the luxury of blaming my weight on "big bones"). To me, being heavyset was always such a burden, a plain-and-simple life ruiner. I knew that if I could just shed a few pounds, the problems of my world would be solved! Furthermore, I always swore that when I got skinny, I was going to breeze through life, wearing nothing but a smile and "nobody [was] gonna be able to tell me shit!"
I was wrong. On both counts. Perhaps not so surprisingly, I still wear clothes. Every day. Additionally, I still have problems. I thought that shedding some el bees would be like waving a magic confidence wand that would give me the self-assurance of a supermodel, and make all of my issues disappear. But apparently, it doesn't work like that. Apparently, thirteen years of living under my [annoyingly] skinny parents' roof, constantly being told I "didn't need seconds," or that I needed more exercise and shouldn't eat gravy on my mashed potatoes unfortunately had a lasting effect on me. That, coupled with years of staring in the mirror and being less than thrilled with the freaking fat chick that stole my face looking back at me expectantly (oh yeah, and let's not forget the truly memorable moments, like my eighth grade teacher telling me I had "birthing hips"), resulted in a major doozy of a body image issue (among others, I'm sure).
It's interesting, you hear facts and statistics all the time about obesity in America: 1 in 3 American adults is affected by obesity and every 2 minutes a person in America dies due to weight-related causes. What the statistics don't tell you, however, is just how much obesity and weight problems affect people's psyches, or how those issues get in your head and burrow a deep tunnel to hibernate in and stick around forever. Furthermore, the statistics do not explain how shallow and image-consumed our society is and how not fitting into the classic mold of attractiveness might obliterate a person's self-confidence and self-worth. Did you know that obesity is now considered a disease? Yup, a disease. Now think of all of the side effects and different traumas associated with any other disease that comes to mind. Because to be quite honest, people who suffer from obesity very likely have a lot of the same issues. Obesity isn't always a matter of eating less, or exercising more.
It's really ironic for me now, because people constantly make little comments about my size and how "tiny" I am, or how I need to gain a couple of pounds. If only they knew. I wish it were that simple. But unfortunately, no matter how small I seem to get, when I look in the cursed mirror, that same freaking fat chick is still there. I wish she would hurry up and get the memo that her kind is not wanted around these parts . . . but she never gets the hint. Like the picture below, she's always there, haunting me, reminding me of what I can be again. (Well, not exactly like the picture because I'm brown. But you get the point. Just use your imagination. I wasn't going to get in my skivvies and and take pictures just for the sake of a post. (a) because I'm a lady, for pete's sake, and (b) BECAUSE I HAVE BODY IMAGE ISSUES. Aren't you paying attention?? I guarantee that the me in your imagination looks way better than the real-life me, anyway.)
So, after 5 paragraphs of self-indulgent oversharing, I'll get to the point . . . hmmm . . . this is slightly embarrassing. It appears that really there was no point, besides the fact that I found the abovementioned article interesting. So I'll leave you with these little nuggets of wisdom: if you are one of the lucky few that do not have or have never had problems with your weight, you should thank God, Buddha, Allah, or even just your plain old lucky stars, because you are the minority. Obesity has become an epidemic in our country and it's not going away any time soon. So, do your part. Eat right, get active, stay fit, and live and enjoy life as long as possible (so you can keep reading my blog). We aren't leasing these bodies; we're in it for the long haul. What you see is what you get, so make sure you do right by yourself . . . and if that doesn't make you happy . . . maybe you should go see a therapist.* Don't be scared; everybody's doing it. Hell, even if you think you're happy, you should go see a therapist. Believe me, there's definitely something wrong with you. You just haven't discovered it yet. xo
*If the therapist trick still doesn't work, I would recommend a psychiatrist. Even if talking to one doesn't make you happy, at least they can write you prescriptions for drugs that very likely will. So, there's that.
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