Hers was called Skinny and Pretty and it was about how she often feels like she's neither. Recently I've been struggling with some notions with regards to those things, and this week has been an exceptionally challenging one, so reading this post could not have come at a better time. I'm going to be really honest right now, so if you're not interested, or if you're feeling particularly judgmental, just click away now...
I don't want to sound conceited, but I know I'm pretty, I get that. But I've been "the fat girl" since I was 8, with a 2 year break from 21-23, and I get that too. The latter, growing up and living in Los Angeles, can be challenging. Yes, even with a husband who can't get enough of me and a huge support system of very loving, very flirty friends and co-workers. I'm completely self-aware. I have worn plus sized clothing for 28 of my 38 years. I have type 2 diabetes. I am on more medication than my 92 year old grandmother. But don't think you know my life. I eat more heathfully than most of my friends. I don't eat fast food. I exercise (at a gym) a LOT. I keep a food journal, I don't drink soda, cook with oil, eat sweets, or do most of the things that people think fat people do. And let me tell you something...it's REALLY fucking annoying. Sometimes I whine that if I'm going to have this body, why can't I just eat whatever I want so that at least it's worth it. For a long time, it bothered me, but I recently came to peace with it, and decided that I was just going to have to accept the fact that this is how I am, and continue exercising and eating right because it was what was right for my body, despite the fact that I don't "look like" I do any of those things. But in November I had to start a new medication, and it's made me gain 10 pounds, despite the fact that I've been working really hard to keep it from doing so. The last week I've carefully measured every morsel that has gone into my mouth, totalling no more than 1200 calories a day, plus I worked out (and yes, I added calories on the days I worked out, so please don't say my body was in starvation mode). I gained a pound. In a week. It's not fun. It's been frustrating, coupled with having filmed a commercial last week where there was a fat joke at my expense, which is something I have to be used to if I'm going to be in this business. My cousin/doctor/brother brought up his concern about this kind of thing happening more now, and him being worried, knowing how hard I am on myself. He hadn't even heard the story yet about the extras behind me at the catering truck on set, who after I ordered my lunch- grilled chicken, sauteed spinach and snow peas and salad, said to each other "well, I didn't see THAT coming". Yes, that really happened. 2 weeks ago. At the time, I shrugged it off, but I can't help but think the meltdown over my weight I had a week ago may have had something to do with these shrugged off feelings.
Recently, I was watching a production I did in 9th grade, and noticed that I was not nearly as fat as I thought I was. This may have been more disturbing than had I been fat. I still describe myself as the "chubbiest Anne Frank ever", and seeing the video made me realize that I was probably the only person who actually thought that was the case. I currently have a 9 year old daugher who is NOT even chubby, who already thinks she's fat because of what she learned at camp, what she hears at school, and what my mother has (unintentionally) said to her. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? How do I, as a fat person, say to my child- eat healthfully cause it's the right thing to do for your body to stay healthy, when she sees me eating healthfully and looking the way I do? And then to also say "don't look down on people for being fat" and "be comfortable in your own skin" and "no, no you're not fat- not that there's anything WRONG with that" a la Seinfeld? I don't even know how to tell MYSELF that, much less her. To paraphrase someone paraphrasing George W. Bush-- "parenting is hard". My daughter has 2 aunts who lived through major eating disorders and who struggle from the other side of it. I don't want her to have my struggle, and I don't want her to have her aunts' struggle. I want to protect her from all these feelings and tell her that her size doesn't matter...but that's a big (fat) lie. It does matter, and it's only a matter of time before she knows it. Except that that's a big lie too. She knows it already, I just don't know how to fix it. I'm beginning to believe that all confidence is fraudulent. So do I just have to teach her how to fake it? Or to recognize that we're all in the same boat? But just because I try to teach her that doesn't mean she'll actually learn it. Wait, is this what that easy button is supposed to be for? Cause that would be nice.
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