100 POUNDS

I am currently 100 pounds heavier than my original goal weight. The weight I needed to be in order to feel accepted.

Let‘s talk about fat.

I heard about Jillian Michaels interview. I didn’t watch it. I couldn’t. I felt red hot anger just hearing about it, let alone submitting myself to it. And the truth is, I’m still sensitive to diet culture. Here’s what I have to say about Jillian’s comments about Lizzo... SHUT THE FUCK UP.

First and foremost, why are you commenting on someone else’s body? A woman who claims she empowers other women. Clearly, we know now that she actually only empowers THIN women. But the most important thing that I want to hit home here is this: STOP COMMENTING ON ALL BODIES. Good comments. Bad comments. Whatever. Stop. Everything you say can be taken negatively by someone. You have no idea what you could be doing to that person. Example: a comment that could come off positive in our sick society is, “Have you lost weight?!” and it’s almost always said in an applauding, celebratory tone. Sure. Maybe that person meant to lose weight. Let’s assume they did. Let’s say she even appreciated the comment. Smiling, laughing, posing.. and let’s say her friend next to her hears this and immediately feels left out and starts to believe that in order to get compliments, she must be as thin as her friend. Well her friend is 5’3” with no breasts and tiny frame. Where as she is 5’10” with hips and large breasts. There is almost no way for that woman to look like the other. It’s impossible. But we set this standard. And it’s not set by us. It’s set by you and your comments. Stop.

The second thing I want to mention is this. Have you seen Lizzo perform? I would love to see someone “fit” do what she does on stage. Night after night. You can call her fat. Sure. She is. She would tell you that herself. But she is NOT unhealthy. Bitch works out more than anyone I know. But because she is in a bigger body, she must be unhealthy. She must be sick. She must be at risk. She is a bad influence. She shouldn’t be proud or happy or confident. The more I talk about it, the more I want to knock you out, Jillian.

The final thing I want to say is, just because someone is thin does not mean they are healthy. In fact, most thin women that we obsess over, are extremely unhealthy. In the gym too many hours, over working themselves. They are eating less calories than needed. They are depriving themselves of necessary foods like bread and fat. They are drinking their calories in juices and shakes that do not give a solid source of nutrients. They are crash dieting and binge eating in private. Maybe they aren’t eating some days. We are so set that there are two black and white forms of eating disorders. But there are so many forms of disordered eating, I can’t even count. I never looked sick when I was doing all these things. I had the six pack abs and the toned legs. I looked “hot” and desirable. No one for a second thought that I starved myself some days. Or constantly thought about nothing but what I ate and what the girl next to me looked like. No one knew that I binge ate privately in my car bc I hadn’t eaten in two days and was starving. No one knew. No one could tell by looking at me. But it is more thin women than you think. And praising their thinness is only perpetuating their disordered eating. Because by telling them they look amazing, they must continue to kill themselves.

I looked amazing to my ex-husband until I gained some weight. And by gained weight, I mean, grew into my body. Became a full figured woman. I don’t mean gained 100 pounds. I’m talking 10. 15 max. And immediately it was “let’s get back in the gym” or “are you gonna eat that?” Clarifying to my insecurities that anything other than perfect is unexceptable. I bet you can guess what happened after 20 pounds. How about 30? 40? Started with not wanting to kiss me or hold my hand in public. To not sitting next to me on the couch in the privacy of our home. To no sex. To divorce. If I know one thing it’s this. Had I stayed perfect. Had I not gained a pound. Had I continued to kill myself. I would still be married. Still be small. Both literally and emotionally. I would still be insecure enough and naive enough to stay with someone who values so little.

I’m 100 pounds heavier than when I met the man who became my husband. And I have never felt more confident in myself. And not because I don’t think I’m overweight or I’m in denial about it. I’m well aware. But because I no longer think about it. It’s no longer a priority in my life. It’s so unimportant compared to so many other things.

I walked away from my life because my mental health could not take it anymore. I could not feel like less of a human because of others comments and looks. And by others, I mean my family. I could not take criticism anymore. And you may tell me that I need to grow thicker skin. But I think you need to grow thinner skin. Why do we encourage people to grow thicker skin? Why do we feel the need to beat up on people? Beat up on them until they are strong enough to get through this cruel world. Why can’t we just be kind? So I decided to step out of my life and only surround myself with people who would never ever make me feel badly about myself. Who when I fall, sits on the floor and holds my hand. Who doesn’t kick me and tell me to get up. Or laugh at me when I feel pain. And what it has done is it’s allowed me to be 100 pounds heavier and yet more confident than I’ve ever been in my life. Not about what I look like but what I’ve accomplished. Who I am as a human. And it’s helped me to see how much I am capable of and that there is nothing I can’t do.

It makes me sad. Because for 30 years I felt that my worth was based around what I looked like. Because that was the only thing I was praised for. It’s funny how many people fall away when you gain weight. How many people lose respect for you. See you as weak or pathetic or sick. But I’m living my best life in a bigger body. I’m no where near where I want to be in life. Life isn’t perfect. But life is content. And content is better than I’ve ever been. I have just started living my life. Just now. I wasted so much time trying to be what everyone thought I needed to be. And there’s a lot of growing pains in this process. A lot. There’s a lot of loneliness. And questions. I miss the fake happiness sometimes. I miss the fake friends. Always surrounded by someone. Always doing something. This life is boring sometimes. Mundane. Feels almost like you’re not living at all. But healing is a long, hard process. And you can’t push it. I’ve learned to sit in this place. As uncomfortable as it can be sometimes.

There will come a day that I will emerge from my cave. But hibernation is just what I need right now. And knowing what I need is and understanding myself and this process is more progress than I ever made in the gym. Fake happiness is the easiest thing in the world. I chose the hardest thing in the world. And there are days I regret it. Days I want to find a bunch of fake friends to go bar hopping with. Days I want to starve myself until I’m desireable again. But being thin and fake happy is so much more unhealthy than being 100 pounds heavier than my original goal weight. So I choose to be fat. And I’m not sorry.