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**Note: I wrote this post several weeks ago and have been too afraid to share it. I’ve been struggling with this a lot over the past month or two, and didn’t have the courage to open up. But the other day, I saw a segment about this book and I almost started to cry. It was fitting that I was at the gym at the time, telling myself to work harder because of what I ate the night before. I immediately went home and bought the book and as I’m reading it it’s really hitting home for me. So that is what gave me the courage to finally share this.**
No recipe, today…no, this is another type of post. It’s a story that I’ve been wanting to tell, but I just didn’t know how, or when, and I didn’t have the courage. I’m not sure what my goal is here, except to be therapeutic maybe? It’s a little long, so I understand if you want to come back another day, when there’s sugar. But if you stick with me, thanks. 🙂
A few weeks ago I bought Jordan a dance uniform that the local HS cheer dancers wear. They had a clearance sale, so I got a shell and a skirt for $10. She was brimming with excitement to try it on. They’re size small, but meant to be small – tight – and are stretchy to accommodate. It’s a dance uniform, after all.
Her eyes were shining as she tried it on. She was so excited! And then I noticed her sucking in her stomach in the mirror. I asked her what she was doing. And she told me she was fat, so she needed to suck it in.
In that moment, my world and my heart shattered into a million little pieces.
Because she was only doing something that I do, every. single. day. I have sucking in my stomach down to an art form. Don’t we all?
Sure, society has given her influence. She watches TV, sees magazines. She is most certainly not fat, but she is a different body type than most of her friends. She’s cursed with my genes and my husband’s: stocky and built. Not fat – solid. Big boned. Prone to weight in the tummy. Her friends are all…not that way. She’s bigger than most of her friends – by design, not by fat.
As hard as I have tried to shield Jordan from my body image issues, I’ve failed. F-A-T. It’s a dirty word and I’ve said it, a million times.
I do not have a good relationship with body image. I always say I don’t have a good relationship with food, but that’s not the case. It’s body image, the way I feel that I look and the way I feel about myself. Body image and self-esteem are BFFs, in a way. Without a good body image, your self-esteem takes a pretty good hit. I’ve always had problems with both: I’m too fat, I’m not good enough, not pretty enough, not a good enough wife/mom/friend/blogger. This has roots that go way back, to where, I have no idea.
I first realized I was overweight when I was 10 years old. I had been blissfully going along, not noticing that the pre-puberty weight was actually chunk, until one day in the fifth grade. Someone was videotaping PE class. I was wearing a turquoise sweatsuit, one that was so popular in the 80s: pullover sweater and sweat pants in a bright solid color.
My world changed when we watched the video. All of a sudden I realized what everyone else could probably see. I was fat. Big. Blubber, as I was always called. The mean boys (and girls) were right!
After a few awkward years and a puberty growth spurt where weight distributed itself (ahem), I was down to a regular, normal non-chunky me. But I was still bigger than all my friends. I had passed the 100 mark. (I still remember that day too, like it was yesterday.)
In high school, teen angst, depression, and friend drama made my body image even worse. It was at that point that FAT became a regular member of my vocabulary. It’s also when I started hearing the voice in my head, the one that told me I was fat. Ugly. Not good enough. I wanted to stop eating. I wanted to be thin. I wanted to be in control of what I ate. But I didn’t stop eating. I watched the Tracey Gold saga play out in the headlines. I was obsessed with For the Love of Nancy. I wished I could be Kelly in the Peach Pit bathroom. But those people had to stop eating to do that. Who would want to stop eating?
{A future food blogger, I was.}
The voice in my head just told me that I wasn’t good enough, not controlled enough. I was a failure because I couldn’t become anorexic. I was a failure because I couldn’t purge that meal in the TGIFridays bathroom. The voice was good at telling me I was a failure at things, be it life, school, or food.
In college I was lonely. My boyfriend lived away. I didn’t make many friends. I lived at home, and my HS friends all went to the same junior college together, so they were having a HS part two. I gained a lot of weight.
The perfect storm happened one night my senior year. I had been broken up for awhile with no boyfriend prospects in sight. Then the pivotal thing in my relationship with control and food happened: I failed a test. Not just any test, one that I needed to get into a teaching program. It was a really difficult math exam, for future math teachers. I missed the cutoff by 3 points. I had never failed something so epic in my life. I had let everyone down: my parents, my teachers, myself.
That night, I stopped eating…mostly.
For a few months I lived on coffee and Excedrin. I ate dinner because I lived at home and had no choice but to eat with my parents. There would have been too many questions if I skipped dinner, so I ate it. It felt good, not just to lose the weight, but to be able to say no to something. No, I don’t want that cereal. No, I don’t want lunch. It felt good to be in control of what I wanted. Finally, I was strong enough. I dropped over 30 pounds in a month.
People noticed. I got compliments. I also finally, after so many years of coveting it, could see the triangle. You know the one: when skinny people stand upright with their legs together you can see a triangle of light through the thighs. I had one! Finally!
I remember being hungry. All. The. Time. My friends were worried about me, they urged me to eat. But I was too happy about needing a belt to wear my jeans to listen to them. I wasn’t anorexic, I didn’t have an eating disorder. I was just losing the weight I needed to lose.
I’ll never forget the day I started eating again. I went to breakfast with a couple friends, which turned out to be an intervention of sorts. They ordered me pancakes and stared at me so I’d eat. I still remember my inner conflict: eat the pancakes? Or not? I ate a bite of the pancakes. I made a decision that day, to not go all the way down the road I was headed.
That’s also the day I discovered laxatives. We don’t really need to go into that…you get the point. That went on for awhile, even into my relationship with Mel.
I made a choice to start eating again, but that certainly didn’t solve any problems. The voice in my head was still there – and strong. It’s still there today – I have never dealt with any of the issues that drove me to that point, and even though I wouldn’t ever stop eating again, I still wish I could. Every. Single. Day.
I was 5′ 4″ and 120 pounds when Mel and I started dating. I still remember pinching my tummy and calling myself fat. Now, I want to go back and slap that girl. Dude. 120 pounds? Be thankful!
Marital bliss changed my thinking. I stopped fixating, and got to a healthier me, but Mel would argue with that. F-A-T was always part of my vocabulary. I had Jordan. I gained an obscene amount of weight, but lost 50 pounds in 6 weeks because of water weight. But the 10 pounds left eluded me, and everything moved. Since I began blogging, I’ve gained a lot of weight. It’s very hard to be in this job and not, especially when you love sugar and have no willpower like I do.
I often feel like a hypocrite: I show you lots of sugar, and tell you how good it is. It is good, and I should know, because I eat it every day. But I beat myself up for every single bite. I pinch my fat and tell myself I’ll never be good. I’ll always be overweight. I refuse to weigh myself, because every number is like a stab to my heart. And when you roll your eyes at me because I say I’m fat, know that I’m not just saying it. I actually, 100%, feel it. I feel it on my stomach, in my thighs. I see it in my head. I feel it in my heart. I don’t say it for a “no, you’re not” answer. I say it because it’s my coping mechanism for how I feel about myself.
I’m not happy with the way I look, but I never have been. No matter what weight I am, I look in the mirror and I see that chubby 10 year old in her turquoise sweatsuit. And now, I’m passing down these wonderful traits to my daughter.
#momfail
I get comments all the time like, “how do you stay so thin?” and I laugh. I joke, and say “spanx” or “photoshop” but inside I’m saying, “those people are cray-cray” because they’ve never seen me naked and boy, a good black shirt can cover up anything. But I certainly don’t feel thin, not at all. I never have, and I’m not sure if I ever would – even if I lost another 30 pounds.
That episode with Jordan made me realize how unhappy I am with how feel about how I look. I mean, I always feel unhappy with how I look, but I’m realizing I need to change that. I’m not quite sure how. I don’t necessarily mean weight loss – I mean I need an attitude adjustment. I could lose 10 or 20 pounds, sure (and I should) but that’s not going to change how I feel about myself. Will losing weight change how my clothes fit? Yes. Will it make me happier? Yes, to a point. But I’m still going to feel fat. That’s what I need to change…somehow.
Here’s the thing: reading the book Almost Anorexic has made me realize something. For 15 years I told myself I didn’t have an eating disorder. That I don’t have one. I had “failed” at anorexia. I felt that if I told someone I had an eating disorder in college, or that I still suffer from symptoms, I felt that they would either (1) look at me and laugh or (2) get angry because my saying that was an insult to anorexics everywhere. But in reality? Eating disorders are a spectrum. Back in college I most definitely did suffer from an eating disorder. And guess what? I still do. Sure, I don’t starve myself. I don’t purge. But the self-belittlment I force on myself, the anger I feel when I eat, the hatred I feel for myself when I don’t work out hard enough, those are all symptoms that can fall on the eating disorder spectrum.
These feelings have been hitting me so much harder lately. Life is busy, I’m more stressed. My husband is being so successful at his weight loss. Bloggers around the internet are talking about the Food Blogger 15. Gaining weight seems to be the mark of a food blogger; it comes with the territory. I think all of this combined is making the voice in my head get louder.
Here is another thing I’m learning about myself: I’m scared. I’m scared to diet. I’m scared to cleanse, to change the way I eat. I’m scared to work with a trainer, I’m scared to try all those so-called natural gym booster supplements everyone uses. I’m scared of my scale. All of those things are triggers for me. I think I’m past the point of starving myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. All of those things are scary for me because they trigger the voice in my head. If I start a diet and cheat, I’ve failed. If I don’t work out as hard as I should, I’ve failed. I think what reading the book has me realizing is that losing weight is not the answer. Before I can lose weight, I need to silence the voice in my head.
I think I need to start realizing that I am me. I’m not a number. I’m not a pound or a dress size. My self worth should not be tied to weight. My body is my body and at 155 pounds or at 130, I need to be appreciative of it. I need to learn to accept me. Now, if I can learn to do that, I can probably bottle it and sell it for a million dollars. Because it’s something all women want, right? To be happy in their own skin?
The difference is I want Jordan to be happy in hers. I want her to put on her sparkly skirts and wacky leggings and be herself. I don’t want F-A-T to define her. When she’s called that in school, and she already has and will again, I’m sure, I want her to be able to shrug it off and say whatever, dude, I’m wearing a sparkly t-shirt and I’m happy about it. I’m not quite sure how to get her to that point, but I’m going to give it a concerted effort.
I’m going to try and cut myself some slack. If I eat a cookie, I’m going to try not to tell myself I’m ugly.
If I have a second (or third) bite after a photo shoot, I’m going to try not to hurl hurtful words at myself because I’m a disgusting piece of fat that cannot stop at one bite.
If I skip a day at the gym, I’m going to try not to tell myself I’m worthless and a piece of lard, which usually results in eating a tray of brownies.
I’m going to try not to pinch my stomach fat. That’ll be a hard one, because I do it so often, it’s a reflex.
I’m not sure if I’m going to be successful at any of those, because right now I’m certainly not. But I’m going to try.
I’m also going to tell the 10 year old fat girl in the mirror to get the f$*! out of my head. It’s about time she found something better to do.
Instead of saying “I’m fat” I am going to try saying “I’m me.”
{Now…if only I knew how to do that, I’d be golden…}
Thank you for reading. I just feel like I had to get that off my chest, and I feel better knowing I’ve finally said everything that’s been stuck inside me for a really, really long time. I appreciate it if you made it all the way through. 🙂
I’ll be back with sugar on Sunday. And, hopefully, less guilt.
Dorothy I admire you so much for posting this. So many girls struggle with their weight. I too had a problem with weight and I still struggle. You are an amazing mom! Thanks for all the wonderful posts
Jett
xoxo
Thank you Jett, for reading and for your words!
I love and admire you so much for sharing this, Dorothy. I really do. This is the story of so many of us (except I did 2 years of strictly diet coke and hardly much else). I still struggle with this big time, every day, and hate that my girls especially see me struggle. I want to be healthy and fit AND skinny, but I want to live and eat and indulge too.
I hope you’ll join this with me, friend. Hugs to you! http://lmwlchallenge.com/
Thank you for reading and sharing Kristen! I don’t know what the secret is, but there has to be a way to be healthy, fit, and indulge. Otherwise, how would life be any fun? 😉 I joined the challenge, that sounds exciting! Thank you for letting me know about it!
You are not alone! I think 99% of women have body issues, whether you are a Victoria Secrete model or a 300 pound woman or somewhere in between. You are very brave for sharing your story with us and I admire you for that.
I’ve dieted on an off since I was in 4th grade. 4th grade! That should not happen. I’ve starved, I’ve overeaten, I’ve done it the healthy way, you name it and I’ve tried it. Like you said, it’s not about the number on that darn scale. Are you healthy? That’s what matters. My mind knows that’s what matters by my everything else ignores it, so I too am still working on loving myself. I weigh myself once a week in hopes the number is smaller and most of the time the scale is not my friend.
Each day I tell myself 1 thing that I love about my body. Each day I try to look at food with respect, not the enemy, and to turn to it when I’m hungry, not when I emotionally need it. These struggles are constant but I am surrounded by a supportive and patient husband, family, and friends. The rest I take day by day, some good days, some not so good.
My story is not that different than yours or many of the others who have left comments. I hope you find strength and comfort in hearing from us. I know you have given me strength to look at myself in a better way! xoxo
I have found so much comfort, and strength for all the words, and yours too Tina. It’s amazing, the outpouring. I love how you tell yourself something you love about your body, and the treating food with respect. I’m working on doing all those things!
Dorothy,
I wish I had some sage advise or words of wisdom, but in all honesty your post caught me off guard. Your post made me cry. I have gone through some of the same eating disorders and have a very unhealthy relationship with food that I have been trying to mend. I am going to link your story to a post on my blog now and I am hoping I can be brave enough to share the details. Thanks for the inspiration!
Thank you for reading Nic! It’s such a hard topic to talk about, or to open up about. I feel so…free now that I’ve let it all out there. I feel like now I can finally heal. You’re not alone! ((hugs))
Dorothy – I want to give you the biggest hug ever. Ah, how true so many of your words ring true. One thing that especially struck me was when you talked about admitting you had/have an eating disorder. No one would believe you. Everyone would laugh. And the truth is that you weren’t a clinically diagnosed anorexic, and you weren’t a bulimic either. But there was/is some definite disordered eating and disordered thoughts, and that can classify you as having an eating disorder. I think more people struggle with disordered eating than they care to admit. So many people come to my site and say, “oh, no, I don’t have an eating disorder,” but at the same time, they are very controlling of their food, they have poor body image, and overall just don’t have a healthy relationship with food and eating.
I am so sorry for everything you have gone through and now the guilt you carry because of Jordan’s body image. I am sure that is harder than anything for you! I know when my son started just assuming that some adults didn’t eat dinner (because I never did for the first 3-4 years of his life), that’s when it hit home. I never want him to think it’s okay to skip meals, and I knew I had to make changes.
And I know exactly what you mean about giving anything to back at that weight that we used to think was SO FAT but is much less than what we weigh now. What was I thinking in high school when I was mad that I couldn’t get under 100 and was stuck at 107??? Seriously?! I wouldn’t even want to be THAT small now.
I feel your pain and turmoil on where to go from here – the diets, and training, and regimes, and scales… that’s just too much for an eating-disordered mind. I can’t do it. I absolutely cannot follow anything strict and planned. I truly have to listen to my body and my mind, and I eat what my body needs, and I don’t beat myself up about it. I listen for the cues of satisfaction (which isn’t easy). I pay attention to every little thing my body tells me now. I tried to do the Tone It Up Diet/Workout plan, and you know what.. it made me crazy and threw me back into eating disordered thoughts.
I am proud of you for sharing your story. You are beautiful. You are a wonderful Mama. And you can make changes to yourself and your mind. It’s all in your head, and I hope you are able to kick that Eating Disordered Bit** out of there! You are too valued to have her up in there, don’t you think?! Please let me know if you need anything at all! <3 Holly
Thank you so much Holly! You really are an inspiration – your strength gave me strength, and I thank you for that. I feel like now that it’s out there, now that I’ve admitted it to myself, I can start to change. It’s going to be hard and a lot of work, but I WILL do it because I’ve wasted too much of my life living this way. ((hugs))
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