Lifestyle

The Value in Not Talking About Dieting

I usually keep things really upbeat and positive on my blog and stay away from serious issues (besides immigration). I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression my entire life but oddly that’s not the issue that’s on my mind on a daily basis: food. I’ve struggled with disordered eating since I was 13. Growing up I was always the “chubby” sibling, my brother was built like a string-bean. As a kid, I kept my baby fat a lot longer than most of my friends. No matter how jokingly it’s said, I think its far too developmentally stunting to call a child “chubby” or “plump” or any of it’s teasing equivalents no matter how innocently it’s said. Of course, I am in no way blaming my family for my history of eating disorders. There are a lot of psychological factors that go into developing an eating disorder but part of my struggle reflects back on the cracked foundation of my personal image.

My “chubby” years quickly developed into a teenage life filled with days of eating only 5 soda crackers, purging (but never bingeing), and constant, never-ending calorie counting. In times of high stress, my disorder would be at it’s worst. I couldn’t control certain aspects of my life but I could control what was inside my body. To be honest, I’ll never be fully recovered. To me, post-eating disorder life is a lifetime commitment. An anorexic or bulimic will always have times in their life where they see the temptation of controlling their eating again even if they don’t follow through with it.

 

That is why I’ll always be recovering. I calorie count without even thinking about it. After over a decade of disordered eating, it is as second nature to me to quickly have a number flash through my mind when I look at a food as it easy to identify what color the food is. And here’s the ironic part- I love food. If you follow me you know that I love cooking and baking. I enjoy it. I find it incredibly satisfying. I love food. I just have a hard time loving my body. Some days it’s easy! And some days it’s really difficult.

Personally,  I started having body image issues before I’d even been exposed to the glitterati of television, film and magazines. In my opinion, the kernel of disordered eating starts at home. If I ever had a child I’d tell them every day that I loved my body.  I never heard any woman around me when I was a child saying that. As a kid I thought my mom was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. (As most kids do.) And you know what? She is beautiful. And tiny. But she was constantly saying she needed to diet, and wasn’t satisfied with her weight. In formative years, hearing these comments surely formed some part of my psyche that fears being fat or even being remotely heavy.  I understand dieting, wanting to feel good in your body, wanting to look good in a swimsuit, wanting to look different than you do (trust me, I get THAT). And I am absolutely not talking about people who are genuinely struggling to be healthy. But the amount of women I hear saying “I need to lose weight” “I need to eat less” “maybe he’d like me more if I was thinner/curvier/less thin/had bigger boobs”  is staggering. And here’s the thing, who else is over hearing these innocent comments?  Maybe someone that is impressionable. Maybe someone who hears that part of a woman that they love has linked happiness to an ideal weight.

Healthy body images don’t start with laws regulating a model’s weight, they start at home.

(Wah-wah. Serious time over. Now let’s watch something awesome. Like Kristen Wiig dancing.)

 

 

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