I woke up this morning recounting all the things people have been saying to me the past uhh day.
"You look great"
"Wow, you lost weight" and my FAVE
"Your face looks slimmer!" Oh...you had me at face...lol
The Get Slim Quick diet also known as the Unintentional Beyonce Diet has worked even though I fell into it like Alice fell into that rabbit hole, except I came out 5 pounds lighter in the face and pale. Going to Miami was all in vain and it seems like I have to do it all again. *sigh*
I said all of this to say that I'm slowly getting my portions up. I feel rickety like an old woman in amazement at young strapping boys that can lift a gallon of milk all the way down the street....but maybe I should pull a Lohan or a Richie and just don't eat. It would be months (months!) before anyone knew what was up.
This post started off being kitschy. Like I'm going to be the new Lohan, but then I started thinking about my relationship with food.
Growing up, I was always chunky. Blame Grandma. Both of my parents were long and lean (even if my dad was short and solid). All of my siblings came out to be either tall and lanky or short and lean. Then..***tada*** it's me!!!!
Short and chunky and my parents were shaking their heads. I remember growing up and I wasn't really a favorite with the other girls. I couldn't jump double dutch. No one wanted to teach me. But, I could run fast. I could jump fences. I climbed the tree in the front of my house with ease. I did all of this with the boys - but I wasn't a tomboy. I did it in my 'oh so glamourous' purple jellies (which I left in Bermuda in 1995 and I'm still bitter about that), or in my slammin neon green tights, or my favorite multicolored dress with ruffles(!) that my stepmom hated because she said it made me it looked like a banana child.
While running and playing with my brother and his friends, Curtis said to me, "J, you're so fat. How many cheeseburgers do you eat a day?"
I was stunned. I thought Curtis was yummy and I didn't understand why he would think I ate a lot. I hardly ate at all. I am the pickiest eater. I tried to defend myself against his claim, but to no avail and when I think of that summer, I still hear his 10 year old voice going, "how many cheeseburgers?" There were various names after that, "McFatty," "Notorious P.I.G.," "Ms. Piggy" was really popular, and there are probably others surpressed somewhere in my subconscious.
Ironically or subsequently, that was the same summer I learned that food was comforting. I remember sneaking into the fridge and digging my finger in the chocolate frosting that was always there. (My mom baked a lot) I got into the habit of buying a Little Debbie snack when I went to the store for my mom only to be too ashamed to show her what I'd gotten and wolfed it down before I got home.
I got heat for my weight from everywhere. Mom, kids at school, kids at home, and nowhere was safe. No one offered me a safe place.
Family gatherings with my stepmom and her family were the worst where each aunt (who are no Kate Mosses) would stare at me and tell me how much prettier I'd be slimmer and then heap on a bunch of food and call me an ungrateful city gal if I didn't eat.
With all of this, I'm surprised, I never did more than stick my finger in that jar of frosting. I have a strong gag reflex and can't throw up easily. (By easily, I mean, I haven't thrown up since I was 3 or 4). Because of the lack of friends, I read a lot and I knew the body needed food to be strong. Also, I went to a pretty good school and discovered dance and after school programs to be in. Otherwise, I don't know if I could have survived.
I know you're probably thinking how could someone complimenting you now take you back to the pain of your past. But, when Lindsay was asked why she thought she had to be so thin. After people starting saying how good she looked (even though I wanted to throw her a candybar) when she was sickly small, she felt as though she had to maintain it. I could go on about how society has high expectations and standards of beauty, but I remember that first day after Soccer Training when I had a flat stomach. I remember the outfit I wore and everything and how smoking hot I thought I was. Is obsession with the body only unhealthy when you're small enough for the world to notice or big enough for the world not to notice?
I'm long past the days of boys chasing me down the street asking me how many cheeseburgers I eat a day. I'm way past the disgusting names I was called. Am I past those feelings yet? Not quite. Some scars run deep. Even in arguing with adults, the first thing they put in there - you fat sonofasoandso.
Thank you for the compliments. It literally took sweat, tears, and sitting with a sickle over my head to get here (mind you, its only like 5 pounds..hehe).
Don't worry about me, I don't want to go back there to lose another 5 pounds. Because, if there's one thing me and my slim face know, is that when it comes to weight and issues...it's a slippery slope my friend.