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Entries in body (9)

Wednesday
25Nov2009

I don't want to pop.

Sometimes I think I shouldn't read BabyCenter at all, but I can't help myself.  I get an email every morning with the updated posts for the groups I belong to (May 2010 Moms and Plus-Size Moms).  Six to eight weeks ago it was tough because everyone was talking about morning sickness and some members would write good-bye posts after having a miscarriage.  I wasn't feeling ill, so I was convinced something wasn't right.  I'm glad for all the information I have from reading these pages, but a lot of it just doesn't fit me.

Like now everyone is concerned about popping - you know, when you go from not looking pregnant or just looking like you put weight on to looking actually pregnant because your belly is now "popped" out.

Yeah.  Reading the word "popped" makes me gag a little; I don't know why.  It probably goes back to my whole thing about being grossed out by pregnant bellies.  So far I can't tell if my belly has changed at all.  My pants still all fit, so I'm going to guess no (unless somehow my ass is shrinking, lol).  I like that right now my pregnancy is still my news and that only people "in the know" - well, know.  Eventually it'll become everyone's business, in a way, and I think I'm nervous about that.

When you're fat growing up, your body already feels like everyone's business.  Everyone in your life (teachers, parents, doctors, strangers) feel like they have the authority to tell you what you could do to lose weight.  As you get older, peers and strangers feel the authority to yell mean things at you on the street or from their cars.  I know that not only fat people have to deal with this, but I feel like it's harder to know that a wolf whistle is sarcastic, not complimentary and that having people fling Jenny Craig brochures at you from a car is different than having someone ask you for your number.  I know we all deal with unwanted advances or comments, but... there's just something about it being a critique on who you are every day.

So, partly, I feel a bit removed from the pregnancy experience.  I'm not concerned about stretch marks - I've had them for as long as I can remember.  I'm not concerned about sagging skin; I already have it and have dealt with worse, too.  I'm not looking forward to a belly pop because I've never seen an expanding belly as a good thing; it was always a sign of failure before. 

But then there's this: I'm not petrified of gaining weight because I've seen the scale go up before (and certainly recently) and now I feel like for the first time in my life, I don't have to care if it goes up because it needs to.  I'm obviously paying attention to how much it goes up (no weight gained yet) and I'm mindful of what I eat, but I don't feel this dread or, alternately, an exhilaration about finally "being allowed" to gain weight that I see other women seemingly revel in.  I think I can write more in depth on that another time, though, because I see a lot of layers to this particular aspect of the experience.

I like my not-so-secret secret pregnancy right now.  I can think about all of these things and not actually be asked to answer for them yet.

Monday
05Oct2009

Does this post make me look fat?

Both the hubby and I hate the "Does this make me look fat?" question.  His response when he hears the question: "No, your fat makes you look fat."  Basically, you are who you are.  Sure, certain clothing items are more flattering than others, but why is it always fatness that is a concern?  How about shortness? (Not that being short is bad, but it seems to bother some people.)  Or sallow?  Some stuff makes my skin tone look terribly unflattering.  But you don't often hear those questions.

The number one item on my 101 in 1001 list is was "Lose 60 pounds."  I have decided that I am going to revise this, but haven't yet come up with the exact new wording.  The spirit of the goal will remain the same - to be healthy and happy about my body - but less prescriptive and stringent.

Lately I've heard too many friends and acquaintances, male and female, say negative things about items they ate or lazy days they allowed themselves.  This is hard for me to hear because I believe in everything in moderation and that you can't push and drive yourself all the time.  I believe there's more harm done in denying yourself a cupcake or pasta at all times than allowing yourself one/some once in a while.  Should you have a cupcake every day?  Well, that's up to you.  You're certainly free to.  I wouldn't because there are other things I'd rather eat and if I eat a cupcake in place of or in addition to those items, I won't feel well and will probably gain weight that I don't want to gain.  But those are my reasons and preferences and they don't need to be anyone else's.

Did you know that there was a survey not long ago where researchers showed a group of Americans and a group of French a picture of chocolate cake and asked them to come up with one word to describe it?


What would you call me?

The number one American answer?  Guilt.  The number one French answer?  Celebration.  Do I even need to lay out the point there?

It's so easy to criticize the choices we make and so hard to accept them unapologetically.  I ate a cupcake yesterday.  So there.  And I had some pasta on Saturday.  Double so there.  But they were part of my scope of eating for those days.  And now?  I have half a tray of cupcakes at home and I don't even want one.  If I hadn't eaten that one yesterday, I'd probably be sitting here thinking about them nonstop.

But, again, that's me.  That's my relationship with food - something I am slowly working at learning and understanding more about.  All the energy and time we spend hating ourselves can be used so much more productively if we love ourselves and speak more positively about ourselves.  (I'm not usually so hippie-ish with the "we should love ourselves" stuff - writing that just made me gag a little - but in this case it's the only phrasing that feels true.)

I don't profess to have all the answers - far from it, really.  But I'm actively seeking and learning.

PS - As a point of humor, the spellcheck system on here does not recognize "cupcake" but suggests "cupcakes" as a substitute.  Even the blog editing system has issues. ;)
Thursday
10Sep2009

Burned by an unidentified sleeping injury?

Remember the good ol' days of college when you'd joke about UDIs? The Unidentified Drinking Injury, of course!  You'd have a good time at a party but wake up with bruises you don't recall getting (because you probably tripped and fell on something on your way back to your dorm).

Well, I didn't drink any alcohol last night but I woke up with a USI... unidentified sleeping injury.  What?

I felt the bruise (?) as soon as I woke up and was immediately puzzled.  I don't sleep with my rings on, so that's not it.  And it's really not a bruise.  In fact, it feels like a burn, except there isn't anything hot near my bed (well, except the hubby, ha ha, but he hasn't singed me yet).

And, of course, the ONE finger that's hurt is my ring finger.  I don't wear any other rings than my wedding rings and, of course, this injury is exactly where my rings rest.  I'm not wearing my engagement ring today because I don't want to further aggravate the "bruise/burn" by accidentally pinching it or chaffing it.

I couldn't go without my wedding ring entirely, though, so I am wearing it and so far, so good.  No pain, no added irritation, but . . . what is this?  Is it coincidence that I get some weird irritation right where I wear my rings?  You can't develop a metal allergy out of the blue, can you?

And, yes, if my fingernail beds seem a bit blue, that's because they are.  It's that cold in here.  (Or, closer to the truth, I'm just always cold and it's a smidge cold in here.)

And it's never easy to take hand pictures, is it?  My hands always end up looking like mitts to me.

Monday
24Aug2009

1 step forward, 2 steps back

It's supposed to be two steps forward and one step back, but that's not how it's working today.

I've been feeling better about myself lately.  I've been feeling happy and accomplished and attractive and beautiful.  I bought two new pairs of pants that fit really well and feel great and look good.  I made a conscious decision to stop worrying about what people think about my appearance and, even more so, the weight I've gained over the past three years.

And then yesterday I saw a picture of myself from Saturday.

Sigh.

What I see in the picture is not what I see in the mirror.  Literally.  I can stand there with the picture in my hand while in front of the mirror and I cannot map the two together.  What is that?  Why does the mirror make my thighs look less horrifying?

When I lost weight, I had trouble seeing myself for my new, smaller size.  I would fold laundry and not believe that I fit in my own clothes because they looked too small for how I felt.  Now it goes the other way around.

That picture instantly negated every single moment where I felt good last week.  Earlier in the day, I felt so good about how my  husband feels towards me.  In a nanosecond, it became, "Yeah, I can see why he might lose interest in me."  What?!  Why does my brain start inventing things when I see a picture of myself that I'm unhappy about.

So now I have all day, week, life to sit here and work on this.  Here's what I know:

1. I do not like how I look right now.  It's not an instant "I'm fat and fat is bad" thing.  Shape-wise, aesthetically, I feel like I look better thinner than I am now.

2. That said, I actually don't like how I look in a lot of my thinnest pictures, when I was a size 12.  I feel like my face doesn't look right.

3. I've determined that part of this isn't a generic bigger/smaller thing.  When I was thinner, I was healthier.  My skin looked great, my hair was shiny, my smile was genuine - because I was active and eating food that is good for me.  Getting the body up and moving on a regular basis does great things.  I felt strong and capable and healthy.

So now I'm left trying to figure out what to do.  This fall is going to be a bit packed, schedule-wise.  I'll be working full-time, Monday through Friday.  Monday night is grad school.  Tuesday night is teaching.  Wednesday night is my late night at my full-time job.  Thursday night will be teaching. 

I don't want to come home and slump over.  Sure, there'll be times I'll be beat and just need to flop over, but I want that to be the exception, not the rule.  But the way I lived before was to go to the gym four or five days a week after work... that won't be possible now and I'm not sure how to proceed.  I need a new vision of what my life should look like.

My life is really so much about me - I want and love to teach, I want and love to go to grad school - and so I am doing those things.  It's not like I'm putting other people's needs before my own and sacrificing myself.  It's more that I'm putting my mind before my body.  I need to put my body on the same priority list as my mind.

 

Wednesday
12Aug2009

My body of work

Some things just feel too difficult.  Two-thirds of the way through my thesis, I seriously contemplated giving up on it, maybe taking a second comprehensive exam in the fall instead or writing the thesis over the summer.  But I have a terrible amount of pride about some things and would never EVER have wanted to admit to a living human being that I gave up on something or put it aside.

As mentioned previously, Imagine Today has declared August Self-Esteem Awareness Month and is doing a month of "exercises" about self-esteem.  I've been following along and doing the exercises in my own way, even if I didn't mention them here.

Until this Monday.  This Monday the "assignment" was:

Set aside some time and write about your relationship with your body & the life experiences that have come to shape that relationship. Push yourself to really be honest and think about the cause & effect of things – sometimes knowing why you feel bad is all you need to stop feeling bad (and sometimes its just a fantastic first step!)

Sure.  Let me get right on that.

Is she kidding??  No, of course she's not - and that's the point: I should be able to do this.  Ideally, one day I'll be able to do it without crying.

Lately I've been exploring the Fat Acceptance (FA) world a bit.  I haven't started reading Kate Harding's book yet - I will soon (want to finish another book first) - but I've been reading stuff in the "Fat-O-Sphere" (a collection of blogs that discuss FA, positive body image, and related issues) and forcing myself to keep reading, even when I find myself feeling uncomfortable.  (I have a hard time with the people who are really militant about it because I am uncomfortable with people who are really militant about anything - I'm fairly non-confrontational - and I have a hard time with the people who have no patience for those of us who are new to this and still learning.  But I try not to take those attitudes personally and keep reading.)

Yesterday provided a small break-through - an epiphany, if you will.  (Epiphany, by the way, is one of my favorite words.  I even used to work for something by the name.)  Through the Fatosphere, I was introduced to "The Adipositivity Project."  (Note: NSFW.)  Their mission statement:

"The Adipositivity Project aims to promote size acceptance, not by listing the merits of big people, or detailing examples of excellence (these things are easily seen all around us), but rather, through a visual display of fat physicality. The sort that's normally unseen.

The hope is to widen definitions of physical beauty. Literally."

I clicked through the site for nearly an hour last night, viewing all these bodies that were at once familiar (because they look like mine does look/has looked) and unfamiliar (because we don't normally see bodies this size unless they're being used as bad examples or sources of humor).

Wait . . . so this body that I've inhabited . . . I've been trained to see it as a bad example or something to poke fun at?  Right.  Of course.

But that wasn't the epiphany.  A lot of the pictures show women entirely naked or in lingerie or their underwear.  It's hard to describe the thought process that went through my mind when I came across one particular picture because the thoughts all hit at once (all voices are mine):

"Oh, I always wanted that bra."
"She looks really beautiful . . . pretty hot, actually."
"She's like my size, I think."
"Hm, she's my size so that might be what I'd look like in that bra and panty set?"
"Wait . . . so I might be beautiful in it?"
". . ."
"So all those times I'm getting dressed or undressed and my husband says I'm hot, he's not just being nice?"
*Still looking at the picture*
"He sees this when he sees me in my underwear?  This . . . hotness? . . . Really?"
"And I think she's hot so . . . somewhere inside I think I'm hot?"

Enter the crying.

I spent more time looking at the pictures and on the way home, thought about what life would be like if it were saturated with a variety of body images, not just ones size six and under.  It's almost unimaginable to me.

The assignment is really to talk about the cause and effect about the relationship with your body, but I'm not ready to do that here.  I think about it a lot, though.

While I know that I have to rely on myself for my self-esteem, I'm so glad that I have a supportive and loving husband who I'm finally beginning to think might not be crazy for loving me as I am.