Love The One You’re With

I really liked what I said in my previous body positive blog and it felt so freeing. But I’m far from being more than just OK with my body. It’s a hell of a long way from being happy with it. 

In the past week I’ve caught myself two times feeling shame about my weight and appearance. First, I was in my bathroom, and against my better judgement, I got on the scale. It was just as I expected — 180 pounds — which is 10 more than when COVID started to spread and 30 from my goal weight that my gastric sleeve surgeon set for me. Anyways, Isla came in just as I was stepping off the scale and for some reason I yelled, “I need privacy!” and became flustered. It took me a minute to realize that I was embarrassed by that number. I didn’t want her to see it. It took another minute for me to realize that number doesn’t mean anything to her and shouldn’t mean anything to me. Just to reiterate, we’re going through a pandemic and it’s OK and understandable that my stress eating has led to a weight gain. It’s not an excuse to discard healthy eating habits, but I can give myself some grace. I should, anyway. 

It’s also important for me to say, and for me to hear, that my worth is not tied to my weight. My worth is not tied to my weight. I’m still beautiful and smart. My hair still curls the way I like it. My husband still loves me and tells me I’m beautiful every day. I still have amazing friends and family who have my back no matter what. My kids are still amazing and have hearts of gold. My small community still respects and supports me. My weight shouldn’t dictate how I feel about any aspect of my wonderful life. So, why does it? 

What I have learned in the past 20 years or so is that the flawed thinking surrounding women’s — and girls’ — bodies is deep seated. Women are bombarded with the notion they should be thin and to be beautiful, that they should fit a near-impossible mold. This is done through TV shows, advertising, social media, magazines, etc. According to http://www.centerforchange.com, young girls are exposed to 400 to 600 media images per day. That same site says a study found that 63% of female participants identified weight as a key factor in determining how they felt about themselves, more important than family, school or career. While it’s a bit comforting knowing I’m not alone, it’s also very depressing to hear.

That’s why we need to keep exploring this issue. There is a body positive movement but we need a body positive revolution, to discard these very dangerous bullshit ideals that only fuel eating disorders, depression, anxiety and body dysmorphia disorder.

Body dysmorphia can lead to unnecessary plastic surgery. Personally, I’ve had a “mommy makeover” which included lipo, a breast reduction and tummy tuck. I also had the gastric sleeve surgery in an attempt to control my weight and eating disorder (Binge Eating Disorder).  

But I’m here to tell you that didn’t help my self image, except maybe the breast reduction. I just didn’t feel the need to have size HH breasts. Let me also say I don’t mean to knock anyone who does get surgery. I’m all for supporting anyone’s decision to change their body, so long as it makes them happy.

I’ve canceled plans because I’ve felt fat and ugly. I’ve hidden in baggy clothes. I’ve dieted too many times to count. I’ve convinced myself that people don’t like me because I’m ugly and fat. I’ve ducked out of photos or refused to even take them. I’ve fed my body nothing but hate and junk and expected it to be healthy and perfect.

But no more. I don’t want to be boxed in by impossible standards. I want to have wild hair, wear crazy bright colors and patterns. I want to show off my tattoos. I want to take all the photos. It’s cliche but I want my little light to shine and not be dimmed by a little extra weight. I want — no, need — for my children (especially Isla) to see my live unapologetically, with confidence and love. I want them to laugh in the face of anyone who dare criticize their body or appearance. I want them to be everything I am and everything I’m not, all at the same time. I just want them to be happy and that starts with self love and care.

I’m going to stop hiding in photos and nitpicking about “bad angles.” I’m just going to live. Freely. That scale means, and measures, nothing. My children are watching, so I am morally responsible to let my light shine and shine brightly.

Please do the same.

If you or a loved one struggles with an eating disorder, I urge you to visit the National Eating Disorders Association.

Disorderly Eating, Disorderly Depression

I’m probably the worst person to write a blog on body positivity, but perhaps that makes me qualified to.

I’ve never liked my body. Well, maybe a couple of times I have but I’ve never been consistent in liking my body or taking proper care of it.

On top of depression, I also have an eating disorder — Binge Eating Disorder — that has made it impossible to stay at a healthy weight. And to be honest, I still struggle even though I’ve had weight-loss surgery (Gastric Sleeve). Turns out if you don’t fix your disorderly eating problems before surgery, you’ll still have them after. Go figure.

I can still remember when someone first called me fat. I was in 5th grade and a boy who I liked said to me, “I know what your phone number is: 1-800-95-JENNY,” which was a number for JENNY CRAIG back then. The following year I was at my parents’ house with friends when two of my girlfriends pulled up their shirt and tied it into a knot, making a halter top. I then went to the bathroom and tried the same but a boy said, “Hey, we don’t need to see that!” Even though he was fine with seeing my skinny friends do it. I was not fat, just shaped differently than my friends but that didn’t matter to me — only what those boys told me did.

It wasn’t their fault I struggled with my weight afterward but damage had been done. Add that to this country’s obsession with being thin and you get an eating disorder and body dysmorphia.

I’m not alone. At least 30 million people of all ages and gender suffer from an eating disorder in the U.S. That’s huge. Every 62 minutes at least one person dies as a direct result from an eating disorder. And eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness, according to the ANAD (National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders).

Twenty-eight percent of American adults suffer from my eating disorder. Approximately, half of the risk for Binge Eating Disorder is genetic and nearly half of BED patients have a comorbid mood disorder. More than half also have comorbid anxiety disorders.

I’m no expert, so I can’t tell you why people binge and overeat. For me, it happens when I’m bored or emotional. Or when I just have a void to fill. Sometimes I think I do it to punish myself, like I’m not good enough to be thin or healthy. Somewhere along the way I related being thin to being happy and successful, and I’ve never been able to convince myself that’s not the case. So when my depression got very bad, so did my eating and my weight went up. I was tired of all the ups and downs with my weight so I saw a weight-loss surgeon, the same doctor that my husband had seen. I had the surgery November 2019. Let me say that is has NOT been any easier to control cravings or eat healthy foods. That void I can’t ever seem to fill is mental and my surgeon can’t fix that. It’s not his job to, it’s mine. I just happen to be a terrible “employee.”

The weight loss surgery wasn’t my first attempt to “fix” my weight. After my two babies were born, I decided to undergo a “mommy makeover,” wherein I had a tummy tuck, breast reduction and some liposuction. I was obviously thinner but I just couldn’t maintain that flat stomach, or number on the scale.

What bothers and frustrates me the most is that I try really hard to be body positive for Isla’s sake but how can I tell her to love herself and that she’s beautiful when I couldn’t subscribe to those beliefs about me? She knows that I don’t like the word “fat” when referring to others and to embrace intelligence over looks but how much is she really going to learn with such a flawed teacher?

I’m a firm believer that when you face challenges, you cultivate growth and maybe having an eating disorder along with depression and anxiety, this is just another opportunity to grow. I’ve had a lot of “growing opportunities” in the past few years and I’m actually a little sick of it. But I guess I’d be even sicker if I let another generation struggle with this mentality. I can’t just stand helplessly by. I honestly don’t know if this is a trivial matter to be concerned with or if my neurotic mom brain just doesn’t want Isla to make the same mistakes. Regardless, I’m committed to ensuring that Isla remembers a few things:

  • She is beautiful, no matter her size or who tells her she’s not
  • But…beauty isn’t everything. Kindness and intelligence are more important
  • Ideally, you shouldn’t care about others think
  • To find friends who support her and celebrate you successes. And who will call you on your bullshit
  • That no matter who she becomes or what she does, I will always love and support her
  • Being different isn’t a bad thing
  • When you hurt someone, always apologize
  • Be healthy, not thin

That’s obviously not a comprehensive list but it’ll do for now; after all, she’s not even 6 years old but it’s never too early to teach kindness and self love.

As I wrap this up I can’t help but think about all the times I was embarrassed or felt shame about my body. What a waste of all those years. But I too deserve love, even self love. Real change sometimes comes in baby steps. It’s not too late to eat healthy, to feel good in my clothes, to reconcile the thought that I’m amazing with what I see in the mirror. I’m no stranger to conflict, so there’s no reason to shy away from it now.

Maybe while Isla’s growing up, I will too.

To learn more about eating disorders and how to support a loved one who has one, go here.