**WARNING**
This journal is probably going to evolve into a rant of sorts. You have been warned.
As I sit here in front of the monitor, having just completed my third workout so far this week, I am thinking of the imagery that entered my head during said workout.
I'm thinking of what I look like as a woman, what I see in the mirror, and how others see me. I think these three things are not congruous. Meaning that what I see in the mirror is not me in actuality, and also what people think they see of me.
This business started long ago when I was a pre-teen. See, in addition to having societal pressures that being "thinner is the winner", I also had tremendous issues within my own family. My mother used to be a model, dad used to be an actor, and the family on my mom's side was disapproving at best, and hypercritical at worst. The endless looks whenever I would eat anything they deemed fattening or unhealthy, the pinching of my thighs and the shake of the head, these things stick with me to this day. Although the tapes don't play as loudly as they used to, they're still there.
My own weight has fluctuated anywhere from 87-155. No, that is not a typo. The lower end was induced by a combination of methamphetamine and borderline anorexia, and the higher end was me compulsively eating. I used to think that I couldn't stop.
Incidentally, after I cut the ties to the good old family, my weight decreased. No longer was I under the constant scrutiny of great aunts with their "You'd be so pretty like your mother IF ONLY you lost some weight." Perhaps they meant well, I've no idea, but I resented them deeply because of it, as if my own self worth and respect were dependent upon a number on a scale. Phooey on that malarkey.
Earlier this year I was afraid that I was up to my old habits again, but at the time, I was too depressed to eat or sleep. It wasn't that I thought I was heavy or anything, but I was heartbroken, and that's the most fucked up "diet" of all. You cannot do anything but feel like shit. Ironically when I came back to LA at barely 100 lbs. (at 5'5) I was told I "never looked better".
This town is brutal for that. A friend who came out here from Texas, who is about 5'7 and around 100 lbs., instead of being told she looked sickly like she did back home, she was praised here. She said, "Wow, there are tons of girls who kind of make ME look big!" Yipes. She's naturally slim, and I am not criticising anyone who is, because the naturally thin have their own crosses to bear with people asking them if they consume ENOUGH. Ugh. Damned if we do, damned if we do not. I am NOT naturally slim however, and have to baby my whacked out metabolism.
Somewhere in my head, there is a happy medium, and until I can reach that, there will always be the struggle with me doing my best to NOT see myself at 155 when I look in the mirror. The ghosts of refections past consuming my every meal. Ugh.
To anyone out there who has personally struggled with these issues, and those who have loved ones that are affected, I send you my support and best wishes.
Thank you for reading this
This journal is probably going to evolve into a rant of sorts. You have been warned.
As I sit here in front of the monitor, having just completed my third workout so far this week, I am thinking of the imagery that entered my head during said workout.
I'm thinking of what I look like as a woman, what I see in the mirror, and how others see me. I think these three things are not congruous. Meaning that what I see in the mirror is not me in actuality, and also what people think they see of me.
This business started long ago when I was a pre-teen. See, in addition to having societal pressures that being "thinner is the winner", I also had tremendous issues within my own family. My mother used to be a model, dad used to be an actor, and the family on my mom's side was disapproving at best, and hypercritical at worst. The endless looks whenever I would eat anything they deemed fattening or unhealthy, the pinching of my thighs and the shake of the head, these things stick with me to this day. Although the tapes don't play as loudly as they used to, they're still there.
My own weight has fluctuated anywhere from 87-155. No, that is not a typo. The lower end was induced by a combination of methamphetamine and borderline anorexia, and the higher end was me compulsively eating. I used to think that I couldn't stop.
Incidentally, after I cut the ties to the good old family, my weight decreased. No longer was I under the constant scrutiny of great aunts with their "You'd be so pretty like your mother IF ONLY you lost some weight." Perhaps they meant well, I've no idea, but I resented them deeply because of it, as if my own self worth and respect were dependent upon a number on a scale. Phooey on that malarkey.
Earlier this year I was afraid that I was up to my old habits again, but at the time, I was too depressed to eat or sleep. It wasn't that I thought I was heavy or anything, but I was heartbroken, and that's the most fucked up "diet" of all. You cannot do anything but feel like shit. Ironically when I came back to LA at barely 100 lbs. (at 5'5) I was told I "never looked better".
This town is brutal for that. A friend who came out here from Texas, who is about 5'7 and around 100 lbs., instead of being told she looked sickly like she did back home, she was praised here. She said, "Wow, there are tons of girls who kind of make ME look big!" Yipes. She's naturally slim, and I am not criticising anyone who is, because the naturally thin have their own crosses to bear with people asking them if they consume ENOUGH. Ugh. Damned if we do, damned if we do not. I am NOT naturally slim however, and have to baby my whacked out metabolism.
Somewhere in my head, there is a happy medium, and until I can reach that, there will always be the struggle with me doing my best to NOT see myself at 155 when I look in the mirror. The ghosts of refections past consuming my every meal. Ugh.
To anyone out there who has personally struggled with these issues, and those who have loved ones that are affected, I send you my support and best wishes.
Thank you for reading this
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
I run into far too many people (females especially) who have battled the body image demons in the past, and who continue to battle them. I'm raging against them as hard as I can, but other people make it so hard sometimes.
No matter what the Bloodhoung Gang says, thinner isn't always the winner. People who only like you when you're thin aren't worth wasting your time over.
Don't give in to those demons. Rage on...