Weight
Everybody gets different messages about food and weight when they are younger. By all accounts, I should be completely nuts about how much I weigh, thanks to my mom's attitudes.
See, my mom was raised in a household where praise was considered not good to give children because it would go to their heads and they would become egotistical. My mom never heard what she did right; it was always what she did wrong. It made her strive for perfection, and her lack of control over so many aspects of her life led to a desperate need to have control over her body. I'd say she's borderline anorexic and certainly has a very crappy body image as a result.
As unfortunate as it was that my mom experienced these messages when she was young, it is even worse that she decided somehow to pass that on to us. Although she managed to remedy the lack of praise (we were constantly told what we were doing right), she couldn't help but to press her daughters for that elusive ideal body. My sister was especially susceptable to these messages, and she's always had issues with how she looks. Sure, a ballet teacher needs to be slender, but I think that at 5', being 84 lbs is still a wee bit light. But in her mind, at least she's not that horrid 106 lbs that she was when she came home her freshman year of college and my mom told her she was fat. No shit. 106 lbs. That's it!!!
I remember my mom delivering the same messages to me. I was pudgy for a lot of my childhood; the other kids even started to call me cow. My mom kept nudging me to lose weight. But, the strangest thing happened...I was unaffected by all of that. I laughed when the kids teased me and started making mooing noises. When they realized I didn't care, they gave up and it became a joke that evolved into the cow being sort of my totem animal in high school. But then at the end of 8th grade, I hit my last growth spurt and got desperately ill at the same time. I lost a load of weight by accident, and suddenly my mom flipped into OPPOSITE mode: you're too skinny! Eat, eat! I remember going outside to goof off with my neighbor's daughter and my mom fussing at me that I couldn't go until I ate this cuban sandwich, and so after she shoved it in my mouth, I was wandering down the driveway bewilderedly with this huge-ass piece of bread and meat dangling between my lips and teeth.
Clear message: there is too fat. There is too skinny. But there is never "just right."
My sister heard that one loud and clear, now that my mom moans at her that she's too skinny. But...somehow I missed it entirely...
It's hard to explain. We're taught, esp. women (not that men don't worry about it too, but women are made to focus on it more due to media, etc), that we must look this one way to be "good." We're given that subliminal that even today, long after the right to vote and the feminist surge, we as women should focus on looking pretty. Looking pretty, according to the models displayed on the runway, means you take a skeleton and throw some flesh on it. It's an unattainable and unhealthy ideal that is waved in front of us constantly. And there's my mom in the background reinforcing it. And there is my sister tortured by it off and on her whole life. And then there's me....
I just don't care, and I can't figure out why. I don't sit in front of a mirror and wonder why I've gained weight nor feel issues with self esteem during the phases in my life when I did put on the pork. My awesomeness can't be put on a scale ;) I was only on one diet in my entire life, and that was mostly because we just couldn't afford to buy more clothes, and there I was busting out of everything I owned. After I lost 14 lbs, I accidentally got pregnant with Ariana a bit earlier than planned, and there was never another diet again. My Maw Maw has pointed out to me when I've become "fat," and my mom sure as hell has. My ex used to even point it out to me as he gained way more weight than I was gaining. Ahhh, the memories...Jared was six weeks old, and I was going into the doctor's office to get my clean bill of health. The ex said something about how I was steadily losing weight, and then he added, "I can't wait until you lose all that weight so we can start having sex again." I remember blinking, looking at him, raising an eyebrow, and saying, "OK, good, how about you lose that 50 lbs you gained too--that's fair, right? We'll wait to have sex until you do THAT." And he sputtered, and stammered, and said that wasn't exactly what he meant....ahhhh good times, that.
But it didn't really get inside me, you know? Other people's opinions on my physical shape just don't bang around my head like they seem to do for normal folks. That's not to say I don't remember fretting to Alex before his brother came to visit that I was a bit tubby for a Frenchwoman, and I hoped he found that I was worthy of him despite that fact...it was mostly worry that James would wish something better for his bro because of the excess weight I had picked up over the years, and GOSH you just don't know how the French are about weight (back me up, Laurita!!!). But it passed rather quickly, and there was never a need to diet or do something about the fact that I had crept up to 134 lbs. by last December.
Instead, last Christmas I realized I just didn't feel great. I didn't want to diet; I just wanted to feel better. So, the first change was eating more fruits and drinking more water. That really made me feel so much better. And since in my attempts to get in my five servings a day of fruits/veggies meant sometimes a bowl of pineapple was substituted for a bag of chips as a snack, I managed to go down to 126 lbs on that alone by last May. For me, the goal had been achieved. I felt better. It wasn't a weight issue. Still, I decided to up the healthy stakes by cutting out all sodas in every form, even diet. I had just read an article about how even diet sodas did funky things to one's metabolism and had all sorts of manure in it one should never consume, and I finally had the strong desire to drop them. Since May, I've only had a coke once (when my throat was torn up) and some ginger ale when I was sick for two days. Instead, I wake up with a lovely cup of green tea in some form or another. Then Total Wine made me walk, walk, walk. Then the kids ran me around this summer swimming, swimming, swimming. But hey, the term started up. I had no more swimming. I had only one day a week I was walking at Total Wine. I was sitting on my butt doing teacher stuff all the time (grading, reading, etc). In August, I figured the gravy train had ended at 121 lbs and that was just fine and dandy. Clothes were more comfortable. I felt more energetic. Life was good, and after all--I wasn't even TRYING to lose weight, so who cares?
As a side note, I think I'd be dead in the Medieval and Renaissance periods. My metabolism would have never been able to survive off of more meagre foodstuffs. I'd have had to be a noble to have made it. I watch some of my friends eat far less food than I consume and struggle to keep down weight or lose weight. It's SO not fair. I feel guilty. Not only is it easy for me, I simply am unaffected by all those mommy and society messages that say, "You're worth less because you're not a Barbie doll." It would mean way more to others to have a good metabolism like this...why am I so lucky?
Or maybe it's not luck. It could be a tapeworm. I'm down to 115 lbs. now, and I'm eating cheese, chocolate, and potato chips, plus downing a fair bit of wine. I don't feel deprived at all. I'm not dieting! It's amazing how much those lifestyle changes helped me, and my only goal was to just have more energy and be more alert. My mom still thinks I'm fat, but who cares? Society would say I'm still a little cushiony because I look nothing like those models (esp. at 5'2"), but who cares? I'm just happy I feel good. And I feel more blessed, actually, for my ability to blow off what others feel about me and my appearance/actions/and so on than I do for the weight loss. I really hope I can pass that on to my kids: you're loved, and that's all that matters. Screw the rest of the world. Just do what you need to do, and let them talk to a mirror.
Somehow, when you do that, it just all seems to work out.
****
AND I got gas for $2.99 today!!!
****
Grant, put down the chainsaw...I'll eat the doughnuts and chocolate cake...just put down the chainsaw....
See, my mom was raised in a household where praise was considered not good to give children because it would go to their heads and they would become egotistical. My mom never heard what she did right; it was always what she did wrong. It made her strive for perfection, and her lack of control over so many aspects of her life led to a desperate need to have control over her body. I'd say she's borderline anorexic and certainly has a very crappy body image as a result.
As unfortunate as it was that my mom experienced these messages when she was young, it is even worse that she decided somehow to pass that on to us. Although she managed to remedy the lack of praise (we were constantly told what we were doing right), she couldn't help but to press her daughters for that elusive ideal body. My sister was especially susceptable to these messages, and she's always had issues with how she looks. Sure, a ballet teacher needs to be slender, but I think that at 5', being 84 lbs is still a wee bit light. But in her mind, at least she's not that horrid 106 lbs that she was when she came home her freshman year of college and my mom told her she was fat. No shit. 106 lbs. That's it!!!
I remember my mom delivering the same messages to me. I was pudgy for a lot of my childhood; the other kids even started to call me cow. My mom kept nudging me to lose weight. But, the strangest thing happened...I was unaffected by all of that. I laughed when the kids teased me and started making mooing noises. When they realized I didn't care, they gave up and it became a joke that evolved into the cow being sort of my totem animal in high school. But then at the end of 8th grade, I hit my last growth spurt and got desperately ill at the same time. I lost a load of weight by accident, and suddenly my mom flipped into OPPOSITE mode: you're too skinny! Eat, eat! I remember going outside to goof off with my neighbor's daughter and my mom fussing at me that I couldn't go until I ate this cuban sandwich, and so after she shoved it in my mouth, I was wandering down the driveway bewilderedly with this huge-ass piece of bread and meat dangling between my lips and teeth.
Clear message: there is too fat. There is too skinny. But there is never "just right."
My sister heard that one loud and clear, now that my mom moans at her that she's too skinny. But...somehow I missed it entirely...
It's hard to explain. We're taught, esp. women (not that men don't worry about it too, but women are made to focus on it more due to media, etc), that we must look this one way to be "good." We're given that subliminal that even today, long after the right to vote and the feminist surge, we as women should focus on looking pretty. Looking pretty, according to the models displayed on the runway, means you take a skeleton and throw some flesh on it. It's an unattainable and unhealthy ideal that is waved in front of us constantly. And there's my mom in the background reinforcing it. And there is my sister tortured by it off and on her whole life. And then there's me....
I just don't care, and I can't figure out why. I don't sit in front of a mirror and wonder why I've gained weight nor feel issues with self esteem during the phases in my life when I did put on the pork. My awesomeness can't be put on a scale ;) I was only on one diet in my entire life, and that was mostly because we just couldn't afford to buy more clothes, and there I was busting out of everything I owned. After I lost 14 lbs, I accidentally got pregnant with Ariana a bit earlier than planned, and there was never another diet again. My Maw Maw has pointed out to me when I've become "fat," and my mom sure as hell has. My ex used to even point it out to me as he gained way more weight than I was gaining. Ahhh, the memories...Jared was six weeks old, and I was going into the doctor's office to get my clean bill of health. The ex said something about how I was steadily losing weight, and then he added, "I can't wait until you lose all that weight so we can start having sex again." I remember blinking, looking at him, raising an eyebrow, and saying, "OK, good, how about you lose that 50 lbs you gained too--that's fair, right? We'll wait to have sex until you do THAT." And he sputtered, and stammered, and said that wasn't exactly what he meant....ahhhh good times, that.
But it didn't really get inside me, you know? Other people's opinions on my physical shape just don't bang around my head like they seem to do for normal folks. That's not to say I don't remember fretting to Alex before his brother came to visit that I was a bit tubby for a Frenchwoman, and I hoped he found that I was worthy of him despite that fact...it was mostly worry that James would wish something better for his bro because of the excess weight I had picked up over the years, and GOSH you just don't know how the French are about weight (back me up, Laurita!!!). But it passed rather quickly, and there was never a need to diet or do something about the fact that I had crept up to 134 lbs. by last December.
Instead, last Christmas I realized I just didn't feel great. I didn't want to diet; I just wanted to feel better. So, the first change was eating more fruits and drinking more water. That really made me feel so much better. And since in my attempts to get in my five servings a day of fruits/veggies meant sometimes a bowl of pineapple was substituted for a bag of chips as a snack, I managed to go down to 126 lbs on that alone by last May. For me, the goal had been achieved. I felt better. It wasn't a weight issue. Still, I decided to up the healthy stakes by cutting out all sodas in every form, even diet. I had just read an article about how even diet sodas did funky things to one's metabolism and had all sorts of manure in it one should never consume, and I finally had the strong desire to drop them. Since May, I've only had a coke once (when my throat was torn up) and some ginger ale when I was sick for two days. Instead, I wake up with a lovely cup of green tea in some form or another. Then Total Wine made me walk, walk, walk. Then the kids ran me around this summer swimming, swimming, swimming. But hey, the term started up. I had no more swimming. I had only one day a week I was walking at Total Wine. I was sitting on my butt doing teacher stuff all the time (grading, reading, etc). In August, I figured the gravy train had ended at 121 lbs and that was just fine and dandy. Clothes were more comfortable. I felt more energetic. Life was good, and after all--I wasn't even TRYING to lose weight, so who cares?
As a side note, I think I'd be dead in the Medieval and Renaissance periods. My metabolism would have never been able to survive off of more meagre foodstuffs. I'd have had to be a noble to have made it. I watch some of my friends eat far less food than I consume and struggle to keep down weight or lose weight. It's SO not fair. I feel guilty. Not only is it easy for me, I simply am unaffected by all those mommy and society messages that say, "You're worth less because you're not a Barbie doll." It would mean way more to others to have a good metabolism like this...why am I so lucky?
Or maybe it's not luck. It could be a tapeworm. I'm down to 115 lbs. now, and I'm eating cheese, chocolate, and potato chips, plus downing a fair bit of wine. I don't feel deprived at all. I'm not dieting! It's amazing how much those lifestyle changes helped me, and my only goal was to just have more energy and be more alert. My mom still thinks I'm fat, but who cares? Society would say I'm still a little cushiony because I look nothing like those models (esp. at 5'2"), but who cares? I'm just happy I feel good. And I feel more blessed, actually, for my ability to blow off what others feel about me and my appearance/actions/and so on than I do for the weight loss. I really hope I can pass that on to my kids: you're loved, and that's all that matters. Screw the rest of the world. Just do what you need to do, and let them talk to a mirror.
Somehow, when you do that, it just all seems to work out.
****
AND I got gas for $2.99 today!!!
****
Grant, put down the chainsaw...I'll eat the doughnuts and chocolate cake...just put down the chainsaw....
posted by Kira | 4:04 PM
12 Comments:
You're lucky not to have absorbed those messages. I've always been super susceptible to them. When I was a flight attendant, at 5'9", I had to weigh less than 145 or I'd get fired. That screwed with my head.
Getting older helps with the whole weight fixation. When you sag, you almost need a little extra fat to pump you up!
I lost my weight b/c I had constant back pain. My goals were not for appearance sake...but that IS nice...I won't lie.
I'm glad you recovered from the bad messages. I think I got too many of then too early for too long (not necessarily from my parents) and never really recovered, even though it's been a long time now.
Doesn't matter to me what weight you are dearest as long as you are happy. That remains far more important since it leads to other stuff the french like :D
Seriously though, I think your mother may finally have gotten the message: not sure how exactly. Might have been a lot of things including Ken and Jill? I don't think she mentioned weight last time I saw her to anyone.
I am just glad you are happy love. And I can't wait to come home tonight and tell you that in person.
Last thing, I think you have raised Ariana right, because i doubt she will be worried about her weight! :)
I'm up one belt notch since getting sick. All this rice and miso soup must be fattening. Can I borrow your tapeworm for awhile?
GREAT post.
One of the reasons I dread--absolutely dread--going back "home" to visit my family is because I'll get tons (no pun intended) of comments about my weight. They're all very active, very athletic, very weight-conscious (my parents, who loved me no matter what, are both gone. This is my extended family). My brother has also lost in excess of 150 pounds, so I get the inevitable comparisons to him now, too.
It's just something I don't want to deal with. Generally, I'm happy with who and what I am, but all it takes is one comment to completely ruin that. They're not malicious, just somewhat insensitive, I guess.
What gets me is that they feel the need to point out that I've gotten a bit pudgy since I lived there lo those many years ago. As if I don't know. As if I don't have a mirror. As if I'm not aware of it every time I step on the scale.
And believe me, men get the message a lot more these days then they did years ago. There's been a huge cultural shift, and it's not for the better, IMHO. But that's probably a blog post in and of itself.
I love your line, "My awesomeness can't be put on a scale". I'm stealing that; I hope you don't mind.
Well, let's just say I'd have survived pretty darn well with this metabolism in the middle ages, lol! As someone who's always struggled to lose weight, it's been amazing to me to watch how Anna is treated. She's clearly not unhealthy, but she has been accused of being anorexic on numerous occasions. She is very sensitive to the issue, and even though I still think it must be easier for a skinny person who can't gain weight than an overweight person who can't lose weight, she does worry when her jeans get baggy.
But honestly, I think it may be getting almost as hard for boys. Well, maybe almost is too strong a word. But it's getting a lot harder. Matthew really felt down when he went through his chubby phase in middle school, and kids picked on him a lot about it. I kept telling him he'd get tall eventually, but he didn't believe me. So, one morning (it seemed), when he woke up all skinny and 6'1, he was thrilled. But he still worries about eating, even now. It's not that he doesn't eat. (My grocery bills certainly show both kids do.) But he's always worrying about his abs and stuff like that... remnants of those middle school doubts.
I wish we could just be more accepting of how all people are made differently... and that's a good thing.
I think I can put my awesomeness at 1 on a 1 to 1 scale. You're right; it is easy.
I don't stress what people think about me, as I am considered a curvy woman and most certainly don't fit into society's "norm" for women. I am seeing more and more women celebrated for their not-so-skinny bodies, which I think is great.
But I think you brought up a good point about being/feeling healthy. A lot of larger women are being told that it's ok to be large, they should embrace their bigness with love, and not worry about what society says about women being beanpoles. Now, I'm not saying that women should strive to look like Barbie, but they should strive to be healthy. Being morbidly obese is NOT healthy by any standards. There are so many health risks associated with being obese. You can still be big, beautiful AND healthy, without being morbidly obese.
BTW, I'm posintg on your computer as me. Live with it. And any misspellings are because your keyboard was apparently manufactured during the French
revolution.
Great post, Kira. I can so relate to the first part -- the constant comments about weight from family, the childhood confusion about food, weight, to eat or not to eat. The second half of your post, when you lost weight without really trying...not so much. But I'm happy for you, and how I WISH I could be unconcerned about my weight and appearance! It takes a special person to be unaffected by the high expectations of society today. Anyway, the essential thing is to find a life partner who really, truly doesn't care about your outside appearance, and that's what you've got. (Me, too...lucky, lucky, me.)
I bought gas last night for $2.50! I WIN!! It's down to $2.39 now, so maybe I lose?
I've been on Weight Watchers - off and on - for over a year. I'm almost always on it...but sometimes more stictly than others. I diet to lose weight to cruise. I gain weight on the cruise. I diet to lose the weight. It's a catch 22. Right now, I'm dieting to fit into my typically SKIMPY Halloween costume for our annual party. Those costumes are obviously designed by MEN! It's a conspiracy!!!
I'm still alive!!!
Until I hit grad school, I was picked on for being taller than everyone else. No surprise I'm very conscious of my height. I'd give anything to be short for a few days. Food was always there when I was growing up. If you're happy, you eat. Sad? Eat. Breathing? Eat more! I was active enough that I never really gained weight. I miss those days.
During grad school I gained a lot of weight, and it's only gotten worse. Now, I'm self-conscious of my height and my weight. And you know better than most how self-conscious I really am. People can tell you that you're too fat, too skinny, or just right. If you don't see it what everyone else sees, it doesn't matter. Self-image is a bitch.
Oh, and gas in Liberty is $1.95 now. :)
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