Stupid Emotional Stuff About My Weight
Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 5:11 pm
I just feel bad this morning and I think maybe writing about it will help.
I have been doing GREAT on No S -- I haven't had a red day since I started waaay back in January, and there's even been very little that I can classify as "funny business" on my N days. My S days have been great -- not a big bingeathon, but definitely some very enjoyable treats and generous restaurant meals and highly enjoyable movie popcorn (I know it's crap, but I just love popcorn at a movie). I have been walking more and just generally everything is good. I am not at all tempted to chuck it, because it seriously has become a habit not to eat snacks or desserts during the week -- I am at the point where it would feel weird to eat in the middle of the afternoon at work, or go foraging through the refrigerator in the evening. Even on S days, I don't usually want to eat after dinner!
Buuuut, emotionally I'm having a hard time right now. I haven't seen any difference on the scale or in my clothes for at least two weeks, which I know is to be expected and not a problem. I went to a friend's party on Friday night -- the friend does "S Factor," which are pole-dancing classes, and she and a lot of her other friends did demonstration dances and many people were scantily clad and it was, shall we say, not good for the self-esteem. I wasn't the heaviest woman there (and yes, I compare, which I'm not proud about), but there were a lot of very skinny, very fit, very pretty, very sexy women and I just felt like a water buffalo. I am still for my body type, very heavy. I had a lot more concealing clothes on than most of the women, because I HAVE to.
And then I read this this morning: http://www.bfdblog.com/2009/03/19/top-1 ... tting-fat/ Which just reinforced in my twisted little mind that my husband, who I know perfectly well loves me, must of course be looking at me and seeing "disgusting fat cow." I know perfectly well (because he made it very clear) that my weight WAS an issue for my husband when we were younger, although he's been great about it for a long time, so that really doesn't help now.
I just feel awful for getting so heavy in the first place and, I don't know, not being a lithe little pole dancer, and I am paranoid that I will never see any improvement unless I do a highly restrictive diet, which will lead to binging, which is how I gained all this weight in the first place. I can't do that again, it is just too destructive.
And I'm angry that I'm so STUPID about this, that I buy into all these messages that tie my worth as a person and a woman into my pants size, when I KNOW BETTER. I'm smart, I'm educated and informed, I know how pointless and self-destructive it is to judge myself against a standard created by advertisers that I am never gong to be able to meet -- and that isn't even worth meeting in the first place. And yet, I still do it.
Why can't I just say "I had a lovely weekend. I went to a party with a friend who loves me and who I think is terrific, I went hiking on Saturday, I strolled in the botanical garden on Sunday, I had yummy dinners every night and read a good book, I spent time with my husband who loves me -- I am happy and lucky!" instead of self-flagellating about it all?
I have been doing GREAT on No S -- I haven't had a red day since I started waaay back in January, and there's even been very little that I can classify as "funny business" on my N days. My S days have been great -- not a big bingeathon, but definitely some very enjoyable treats and generous restaurant meals and highly enjoyable movie popcorn (I know it's crap, but I just love popcorn at a movie). I have been walking more and just generally everything is good. I am not at all tempted to chuck it, because it seriously has become a habit not to eat snacks or desserts during the week -- I am at the point where it would feel weird to eat in the middle of the afternoon at work, or go foraging through the refrigerator in the evening. Even on S days, I don't usually want to eat after dinner!
Buuuut, emotionally I'm having a hard time right now. I haven't seen any difference on the scale or in my clothes for at least two weeks, which I know is to be expected and not a problem. I went to a friend's party on Friday night -- the friend does "S Factor," which are pole-dancing classes, and she and a lot of her other friends did demonstration dances and many people were scantily clad and it was, shall we say, not good for the self-esteem. I wasn't the heaviest woman there (and yes, I compare, which I'm not proud about), but there were a lot of very skinny, very fit, very pretty, very sexy women and I just felt like a water buffalo. I am still for my body type, very heavy. I had a lot more concealing clothes on than most of the women, because I HAVE to.
And then I read this this morning: http://www.bfdblog.com/2009/03/19/top-1 ... tting-fat/ Which just reinforced in my twisted little mind that my husband, who I know perfectly well loves me, must of course be looking at me and seeing "disgusting fat cow." I know perfectly well (because he made it very clear) that my weight WAS an issue for my husband when we were younger, although he's been great about it for a long time, so that really doesn't help now.
I just feel awful for getting so heavy in the first place and, I don't know, not being a lithe little pole dancer, and I am paranoid that I will never see any improvement unless I do a highly restrictive diet, which will lead to binging, which is how I gained all this weight in the first place. I can't do that again, it is just too destructive.
And I'm angry that I'm so STUPID about this, that I buy into all these messages that tie my worth as a person and a woman into my pants size, when I KNOW BETTER. I'm smart, I'm educated and informed, I know how pointless and self-destructive it is to judge myself against a standard created by advertisers that I am never gong to be able to meet -- and that isn't even worth meeting in the first place. And yet, I still do it.
Why can't I just say "I had a lovely weekend. I went to a party with a friend who loves me and who I think is terrific, I went hiking on Saturday, I strolled in the botanical garden on Sunday, I had yummy dinners every night and read a good book, I spent time with my husband who loves me -- I am happy and lucky!" instead of self-flagellating about it all?