bodies, rest and motion.
In my last post, when I asked about the “stupid things we think about too often”, I wasn’t shocked to hear women mention difficult thoughts about their bodies as a constant challenge in their lives.
Of course.
This is our obsession.
The workout frenzy girls; the diet girls; the “accept me however I am!” girls; the bodyshaping underwear girls; the sports nut girls; the buy-jeans-one-size-too-small girls; the recovering-from-an-eating-disorder-girls; the girls for whom the most scathing and oft-used insult is, “She’s fat!”; the sex-with-the-lights-off girls; the “I lost weight and now I barely wear clothes!” girls; the “I just want to feel healthy” girls; the girls who constantly reference Nicole Ritchie; the girls who count calories; the girls who have an ideal they can’t let go of; the girls who raise an eyebrow at teenage girls and say, “yeah, you better wear that while you can!”; the before-and-after picture girls; the professionally self-deprecating girls; the girls with the medical concerns who can’t get where they want; the girls who date guys who confirm their self-hatred; the girls who won’t believe men love them regardless of imperfections; the girls who never gained a pound until they gained a pound and then lost all their anchoring in the world; the girls who resent that they care; the girls who judge people who don’t care; and the girls who don’t care except sometimes when they catch the wrong angle in a mirror walking by.
There are girls, of course, who don’t give a rat’s ass how they look, or like/love how they look. Which is great.
But they are awfully rare. For a reason.
We live in a society that is obsessed with appearance. We live in a society where billions and billions of dollars are spent every year in the pursuit of a certain type of appearance, a certain way of being. We can tell you the calorie counts on everything.
We watch our public figures’ bodies like hawks.
We compare ourselves to actresses and our girlfriends.
We remember every good and bad thing ever said about how we look.
We’ve actually said the words, “Well, the flu sucked, but I lost ten pounds!”
We get older, we experience health changes, we have babies, we embark on programs, we gain weight, we go up and down on the scale, we fear high school reunions, we want to get back at exes, we poke at parts of ourselves, we wear things that are “forgiving.”
This is us.
Practically speaking, being within the correct medical weight range for your height is a good thing, according to most doctors. But it doesn’t mean you’re healthy. Being healthy means you’re healthy — it’s just one of the factors. There are plenty of skinny girls who aren’t doing as well on the inside as heavier girls.
Then there are the arguments for being genetically pre-programmed to seek out the healthiest mate possible, there are the arguments about culture and nature and nurture and diet and location, there are the lengthy discussions of feminism and chauvanism and lookism and ageism and… well, everything else.
So much stuff. At length. All the time. Ongoing. Everywhere.
I get so sick of it, I can’t even tell you. What can I tell you?
I’m overweight. I have not been my whole life — just the opposite, actually — but I am now. Genetics? Autoimmune disorder? Hormonal imbalances? Laziness? Yep.
No two ways about it, no overstatement, no “but I’m so proud!”, no dysmorphia. It needs to change, but it is what it is.
And I hate writing about it. What the hell does how my body looks have to do with me as a writer or as a woman or as a human being? I don’t talk about relationships I’ve had or sex or anything else like that here, because my audience is so varied and wide.
Why do I need to be yet another female blogger obsessing about how she looks or going on about my diet at length? Why do I need to go there in this venue when my figure does not define my intelligence, my sense of humour, my wisdom about life, my capacity to love?
Because.
It just keeps coming up. It will not go away.
So much of our identity as women — and men, for that matter — is tied into how we look that I’m kidding myself to think it won’t come up here at all.
Say I want to post a picture of myself on my blog, but I hate how my body looks in the photo, so there, I’ll put my face up. That is my face, after all… that’s how I look. That’s good enough for people to connect with, to get a sense of me, right? My body doesn’t define me! This isn’t an online dating profile! I’m a writer! Why should I even GO there on my website? If I wouldn’t bring it up in conversation with a friend, why should I discuss it on my blog?
But then some part of me worries that this is dishonest. That I’m hiding something under the guise of not wanting to make a point of it. I get emails from people wanting to hang out with me and I think, ugh, they’d be disappointed if they met me. I’m not very pretty.
I’ve dealt for years with people’s frustrations with how I look.
Such a pretty girl, if only she’d lose weight.
Such a smart girl, why doesn’t she lose weight?
I would be in love with you if only I were attracted to you physically. Can you change?
You can’t choose what you’re attracted to, sorry.
I promise that I would love you if you were thinner.
I’m surprised how confident you are on stage, given… well, how you look.
You dress so well for your… body type.
You should be less argumentative/less opinionated/less somethingorother… you need as much going for you as you can get.
Once, a boy offered to pay me to go on a diet. Once, a boy told me he thought we would be married by now if I looked different. Once, a boy who thought he might like me changed his mind as soon as he met me. Once a boy said how I looked made him sad.
All of these things hurt terribly. All of these things stay in my head.
But I’ll be damned if I ever wanted sympathy or community in it. Going there in a public sense felt — feels — self-indulgent, felt like looking for reassurance, felt like drama. And screw all of that, as it were.
Who am I kidding, though? Every compliment I get on this blog about my appearance, I think, “Oh, if you knew.”
Never mind that some of those come from people who DO know. I’ve let myself get neurotic about this, and it has to come to a stop.
I try not to be neurotic about it in my daily life, actually. And it’s worked.
Most of my girlfriends are thinner than me, but almost all of them will confide to me about their insecurities, their diets, their issues without much of a second thought.
One of them even phoned me crying when she grew out of her size four jeans. I don’t think it even occurred to her who she was talking to, or how ironic it was.
And that’s how I like it. I don’t want little weird boundaries about what people can say around me.
That’s how little I bring it up in my speech, in my work, in anything.
Not because I don’t know it. Not because I don’t deal with it. Not because I don’t want to change it, because YES, I do. I just deal with it in a private way.
And I know this post this has been all over the place, but that reflects my feelings on the whole issue pretty perfectly.
So.
I need to work on my body.
I will work on my body, and I have been, though I probably won’t talk about it here. It doesn’t make me happy. It’s not what I enjoy writing about. The diet blog will not be forthcoming.
None of this has anything to do with my skill as a writer, my value as a friend, my capacity for thought, for love, for humour. And if you think it does, I’m sad for you.
It does have lot to do with how I walk into relationships. But that is not the fault of men in general, but some specific men. And I need to let that go. And I am, and this is part of it.
Girls out there? I feel you in how much it hurts, how much it consumes your thoughts. If you ever need support, to vent, to be complimented wildly? I have your back.
I support you in doing healthy things you need to do to feel better, but I don’t support you in mocking yourself or mocking others for their appearance. Don’t you dare sell out other women and think it’s funny. That’s absolute bullshit. There is no excuse.
This is me, then.
And that is really all I have to say about that.
February 7th, 2007 at 12:27 pm
And now my neck is sore. From all the emphatic nodding in recognition of and agreement with everything you said…
February 7th, 2007 at 12:32 pm
I’m appalled at the things that different people have said to you. Karma will get them in the end. I wish that I could get away from all the pressures to a time before I ever heard boys laughing at me and chanting, “You’re the fat and ugly girl,” which can still sometimes bring tears stinging to my eyes. The next time I’m feeling consumed, I’m going to remember what you wrote here. I like your outlook.
February 7th, 2007 at 2:58 pm
I’m wary of saying anything on this topic. As a guy :) But here I am anyway.
I worry about what I eat. I count the calories. I can tell you the protein/carb/fat ratio of most foods. Basically, I worry about every morsal of food that goes past my lips. Before life got very intense and very busy I went to the gym 6 days a week. At the moment I feel awful about myself because I have gone from below my ‘healthy’ BMI to the middle of it. I also know I am not the only man that thinks/feels this way.
What bothers me about the way society views weight at the moment is that instead of there being a healthy movement awy form the pressure traditionally put on women, we are moving towards a world where everyone (male, female, young,old) is under the same pressure.
That can’t be a step in the right direction, can it?
February 7th, 2007 at 3:02 pm
No, it’s definitely not. I totally believe in the notion that we have an unhealthy society, but I don’t know that it has as much to do with size as how we live, what we consume, how we consume it, and all the angst that follows that.
I mean, yeah. Obesity is not a good thing. No one is going to say it’s a good thing. But the unhealthy patterns and pressures are dragging down more than just overweight people.
February 7th, 2007 at 3:33 pm
Wait, you can lose ten pounds with the flu?
KIDDING.
My body image demons are horrid, so I can relate. What is even odder is that they have sprung up with a vengence where they used to hardly exist. As we speak I’m on my first major diet (and hating. every. minute. of. it).
I want to be healthy. I want to be in shape. I want to be able to run five miles and not die in the middle. But the issues: they are evil and hold me down. If I knew how to vanquish them I would.
Now then, I recall that you were taking some kind of break. Where did that go?
February 7th, 2007 at 3:48 pm
I think you are amazing. It hurts me that you’ve been hurt. I am privileged to see your beauty, inside and out, every single day and for that, I am thankful.
February 7th, 2007 at 4:16 pm
I don’t have anything particularly witty or funny to write here, just a thanks for that post.
February 7th, 2007 at 4:30 pm
This is an amazing post and above all, it really showcases what a fabulous writer you are. Your point is well balanced and valid and you say what you mean, perfectly. How you look should have nothing to do with how people see you as a person, a writer, a friend, a lover, a human being. It’s sad that our society operates in this way.
I’m one of the “obsessed with being thin” people but I try to do it the healthy way with a good diet and exercise…that doesn’t mean I don’t pig out on chocolate sometimes (or more often? Who’s keeping track?). I’m curvy to begin with and I’ve been slightly-to-kind of overweight my whole life and now I just want to be healthy and happy and if that means I might have a few extra bulges well…whatever. The chocolate is worth it every time.
February 7th, 2007 at 5:14 pm
Bless you, Meg. This is smashing.
February 7th, 2007 at 9:34 pm
Here’s the first paragraph from a recent column in our college newspaper:
Oh, dear Christ Almighty, I made a bad choice the other night. No, it wasn’t hooking up with a fat girl. I was too sober for that.
Now, in a previous column, this guy confessed to having been formerly fat, but losing weight so he could get laid.
The only thing worse than people’s loathing of fat people is fat people’s loathing for themselves.
You are beautiful, Meg. Fat or thin, in pictures or in real life, inside and out. Beautiful.
February 7th, 2007 at 9:54 pm
Not that I know anything, but, this post followed by your friend Cat’s comment is something lovely to behold.
February 8th, 2007 at 4:34 am
I wanted to thank you for this post. THANK YOU. I loved it. I felt like it shored up my psyche a little.
Have you read the book _Fat!So?_ by Marilyn Wann? I find it helpful. Also, it’s funny and has pictures of naked fat bottoms in it. What could be better?
I especially dislike the thin = healthy thing, because I think that although many thin people ARE healthy, many thin people are also smoking, eating badly to eat less, throwing up, doing starvation diets, etc. I read once (wish I could remember where–it was probably in that Marilyn Wann book) that if it was discovered that the secret to being thin was chain-smoking and eating brownies, we’d all be lighting up and baking within seconds, so it’s not fair for people to pretend they get thin for only health when it’s more for appearance.
Oh, is this MY blog? I meant to just say thank you, and I will say it again because it is justified: Thank you.
February 8th, 2007 at 5:48 am
Meg,
I absolutely adore you, and this entry. I just had to come out of the lurking closet on this one. I think this will be one of those things that I read a few times a day, just to keep myself going. It was just last night that I declared, “THAT’S IT! I’m joining Weight Watchers”.
So thank you for this post, on behalf of chubbalicious girls everywhere.
February 8th, 2007 at 7:03 am
Came through jenandtonic.
Um … wow. This is an absolutely perfect post in so many ways. I just tackled the whole “don’t want to post a full body shot” last week. All I could think was, “OMSH, I’m going to show them the real me.” But I too felt I was lying somehow … “Hi, here are my FEET - aren’t I CUTE?!”
Anyway, I’m linking this b/c it surely is a fabulous, fabulous, truthful post.
Bless you.
February 8th, 2007 at 7:05 am
Who ARE these guys? I cannot believe that anyone would say such things. But then, these are the kinds of things that we all say to ourselves, aren’t they? While no guy has ever told me that he would like me if I were thinner, I have often told myself that they would and berated myself over how I look. Why do we let ourselves get away with that?
I have been overweight all of my life and am currently the thinnest I have ever been, though still with a few pounds to go to get into the “normal” range for my height. But I feel sure that no matter how much weight I lost, I’d still think of myself as a fat girl. Isn’t that sad that it should be such a part of my identity?
February 8th, 2007 at 7:51 am
Wow. I have never read your site before, I found it via Jen & Tonic. This issue speaks to every woman.
I would like to add the thought about the history of women in the world, as far back as we can tell.
If we haven’t been marginalized and held back by each other, as we are now, then we were enslaved and subject to the authority of men.
I would really, really love to see us get our act together and put an end to this insanity once and for all. We are the ones who are responsible if we want a change.
I’m sending you lots of internet love and respect, and for what it’s worth, I think you are gorgeous.
February 8th, 2007 at 8:19 am
Wow. Just fucking wow. I love this - thank you!
February 8th, 2007 at 8:54 am
Amen!
I have also been subjected to the “but you have such a pretty face” comments. Still there. It’s all in my head, right? And on my hips, thighs, breasts.
I’ve had men who promised me things if I lost weight. Yeah right, ok I lost the xx number of pounds within xx time, where’s my motorcycle trip to California? Who’s the big loser there? Me, who gratefully ate something other than lettuce and grapefruit juice, or the man who reneged on his promise??
There was a man who apologized to me for assuming that, because I was overweight, I was also stupid. Kudos to him, for recognizing it, and for saying it to my face.
I will flag and re-read this post often. It is a beautiful summation of the agony we all face, whether we are fat or whether we just can’t zip up those size 4’s anymore. I look forward to those moments when what’s inside my head overrides how I might look to the outside world. I want more of them.
February 8th, 2007 at 11:41 am
Hear hear! It’s all a load of crap but we all do it.
I can’t stop either.
We shoudl focus on what’s inside - and from your writing I can say - you are a beautiful person!
February 8th, 2007 at 11:49 am
Bravo.
My weight puts me in the “morbidly obese” category. I couldn’t hate that term more if I tried, but it’s a card I’ve carried with me since I was a teen - it’s become more than a state of body, but a state of mind. Even if I were to drop 100 pounds, I would always think of myself as the fat girl. I’m starting to think I should spend some time working on my mind and stop worrying about my body for a while. My body is holding its own, thanks to a moderate diet and exercise, but it’s my mind that can’t let it go.
I’ve had a few rough emotional encounters because of my weight, but never anything close to what was said to you. I wonder how people could be so hurtful, so thoughtless. If I’d been the subject of those comments, I would never have come out of my dorm room in college. I don’t even know you, but I think you’re amazing for writing this.
Thank you.
February 8th, 2007 at 12:21 pm
Here’s to Meg de-lurking another lurker.
I’ve wanted to comment on so many of your posts but either didn’t get around to it or succumbed to one of the other 3756 typical reasons not to comment.
As the ultimate female irony, this is the entry that’s finally pushed me to write something. And for lack of witty original thought at the moment, here’s an anecdote.
Last year I was shopping with my friend who, having gone from a size 18 to a size 14, needed clothes that would actually fit. While she was trying on a really nice top, the salesperson (the too-skinny-to-be-let-out-in-windy-weather type of girl) remarks on how that’s a nice top but “I can’t shop here, they don’t carry a size 3.” Tact? Yea I think I’ve heard of that.
I, on the other hand, refuse to count calories (defense mechanism against being a “resent that I care” girl?). I’m on the “eat less than you normally would” diet and, after wanting to throw punch in the nose of any man who called me fat, have taken up BodyCombat.
February 8th, 2007 at 1:37 pm
I totally second Swistle’s endorsement of “FAT!SO?” by Marilyn Wann. She is brilliant and funny and the book is awesome.
February 8th, 2007 at 2:53 pm
Meg, you are absolutely brilliant. Just when I think you can’t say anything better from the last thing you said, you go and say it. You make my little corner of the world brighter. Your words are so big, you wouldn’t believe how small your butt looks from here :)
February 8th, 2007 at 3:16 pm
Wonderful! Are we having some rich conversations around the internets lately or what?
I wrote a long, cathartic piece this week on this issue from a slightly different angle (not on the blog, it’s making the submissions rounds). Even those to whom genetics have been arbitrarily “kind” have to turn in that basket eventually. What if all your eggs were in it? What if a lot of them were? It is a hard landing.
And then just as I saw the link to your post, I see that the sad life of Anna Nicole has ended. All of us are cogs in the same wheel.
Your loveliness shines through and through. Thank you for speaking your piece.
xo
February 8th, 2007 at 6:40 pm
As always, you give eloquence a good name, Meggy. I’m proud of you. And your butt looks fine from here, too.
February 9th, 2007 at 9:44 am
Okay, see, I got stuck at one point & couldn’t get past it.
You actually DATED people who made remarks about how you look, your size, weight?
I’m surprised by the fact that you know THAT many males who would actually say such things. Knowing you, and having been treated to lists of your expectations and wants, I can’t imagine ONE of your dates saying that, let alone several.
That speaks to THEIR sorry characters, though, and not yours.
I’m much heavier than you. Especially since I quit smoking.
But NO man has ever, ever made a remark like that to me–perhaps he thought I could smother him with my body weight or something, I don’t know.
It’s all about how YOU feel in your skin, and you know that–you just said as much.
But trust me when I say there are real men out there who appreciate some curves on a woman.
And never let a man talk to you about your appearance like that. NEVER.
You don’t need me to tell you how fabulous you are, but just in case: YOU.ARE.FABULOUS. And gorgeous. And smart, and strong.
Perhaps a re-think on the type of boys you’d like to be with…. ;)
February 9th, 2007 at 10:01 am
the other day, i was thinking about this very thing and while blog surfin, i found you (via jenandtonic) just when i needed to read this and after spending some time reading through your archives, i am back to say thank you for your beauty and honesty and hi there, nice to meet you :)
February 9th, 2007 at 2:32 pm
I found you via Jen as well.
You have summed it up beautifully. I have been “chubby”, “pleasingly plump”, “chunky” or whatever “title” you prefer to use most of my life. I wore a bikini once… when I was 4. Too many times I was turned down by a boy as a teenager because of my weight…”but you have such a pretty face, if only you could slim down a little”. “you don’t look that heavy” was heard once while STANDING on the scale at the doctor’s office. The truth is, I am pretty healthy for an overweight woman. I could be in better shape for sure but I am healthy. It’s not always about the number on the scale. I won’t lie though, I still obsess about my weight , it’s a constant daily, battle. You have expressed those feelings beautifully here. I just want to thank you. :)
February 9th, 2007 at 2:53 pm
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Thank you.
February 9th, 2007 at 3:54 pm
This post? Is exactly why I absolutely adore your writing.
February 10th, 2007 at 5:28 am
first time reader, first time poster and absolutely 100% couldn’t agree more with every single thing you’ve said. like i said, i’ve never been here before, but i can tell one thing: you are a beautiful writer. and you sound like a beautiful person.
February 11th, 2007 at 1:57 am
Very wonderfully said. Reading this, it’s sort of amazing to me how many of those girls I have been at various points in my life, how many of them I still have to carefully avoid becoming again.
February 11th, 2007 at 4:59 am
Great post. Thanks for the candid and forthwith prose.
February 11th, 2007 at 8:15 pm
Thanks, I could tell you how much I weighed every month since I was fifteen, yet I couldn’t tell you who I touched, what I read or how much sex I had. What a waste of my time.
Thanks for writing this.
February 13th, 2007 at 8:49 am
What a brilliant, brave, moving posting. Thank you for “going there” in your blog. It has floored me.
March 8th, 2007 at 6:55 am
A friend of mine sent me the link to this post and I just wanted to say Thank You.
Thank you for putting into words the deep, dark place where I hide how I feel about my weight.
October 28th, 2007 at 10:13 pm
Beautiful, Meg. I hear you. I so hear you.
October 29th, 2007 at 12:04 am
I honestly don’t even know where to begin. Tears welled up in my eyes as I recognized nearly everything you wrote about as being something that I have been dealing with over the past 3 years.
I have never had a weight issue until 5 years ago when I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease- once I started on that rollercoaster the “poundage” came on. (It didn’t help that it took nearly two years for the doctor to figure out what was wrong, and then after another year and a half of him trying to adjust my medications to no avail to get a good blood test he sent me to a specialist. (At the time my hands were tied because of insurance.)
As a result I look in the mirror and don’t recognize who I see. Nothing fits, I feel self conscious as hell and more oft than not cry over the whole mess.
I hate being this way and since a bout of pneumonia a couple of winters ago, I now have to deal with asthma, so when I exercise well, it just isn’t pretty.
I get so down about it all, just as you and so many that have responded to this and I’m sure this doesn’t help, but I often feel I brought this all on myself.
You see, I was one of those silent judgers of overweight people. That is the first time that I have admitted that shameful part of myself. It’s not that I didn’t think that large people were stupid, I just thought that they could do something about themselves… never giving a thought it could be a medical condition that got them there in the first place, or genetics or whatever.
Curse or not, I can say this… having gone through this myself, I see things a whole hell of a lot differently, I’m just sad that it took this for my stubborn ass to see it.
Kudos to you for your bravery, your honesty, and your ability to eloquently convey what you feel. As another reader mentioned here, I too will be returning to this post again and again. It has given me a little bit of hope.
Thank You
February 20th, 2008 at 11:31 am
Did you hear that sound? It was me applauding you.