this post took a left turn somewhere

April 21, 2009 at 11:25 pm (Uncategorized)

Easter was a couple of weeks ago, right. (Which I typed as “Eatser” at first.) And my cousin and her family came up. Technically she’s Dad’s cousin’s daughter, which makes her my second cousin? I think? Anyway, her side of the family has the genes for fatitude. My grandfather was fat, his sister is fat and an amaaaazing cook. None of the women or men on that side are skinny. At the smallest, they look simply average.

So my cousin walks in and the first thing she says to me is “You lost so much weight!” We only see each other at Thanksgiving and Easter, when I’ve managed to make it home for Easter. So I guess it IS noticeable. Then again, I was also wearing a short-sleeved top instead of a sweater and tank top.

Why do I do that? Why do I freak out about losing weight? Because so much of my journey towards accepting my own fat and becoming an activist for size acceptance has had to do with accepting that this is the body I have. And it deeply unsettles me that I’m losing that body, that it’s disappearing. Not only because I’m vehemently anti-diet but also because it makes me feel like a traitor to the cause. Which, I haven’t BEEN dieting. And I haven’t noticed the weight loss, as I’ve mentioned before. It’s creepy. And it wouldn’t make me a traitor. Plenty of SA folks are smaller than me; the two best examples I can think of are Fillyjonk and Sweet Machine at Shapely Prose, who are both not actually fat as far as I can remember. Hell, I have another 100 pounds before I hit the top end of the “normal” range for my height according to BMI. Why worry about this now?

Because I am paranoid, and I put far more stringent standards on myself than on anyone else. This is true in pretty much all areas of my life – it’s something I work on with my counselor – and it only makes sense that it happens here too. As much sense as the slightly bent workings of a malfunctioning brain can make, anyway.

[This is not to value or devalue the neurotypical experience; I just have problems struggling with my own diagnosed depression even on technical good days and this is the best way I can think of to talk about it.]


1 Comment

  1. class factotum said,

    For me, part of the weight loss freak out was that it seemed that I was accepted more when I weighed less, which ticked me off to no end. I was being asked out after having lost a lot of weight (too much and it wasn’t intentional). I wanted to ask these guys where they were six months before when I was STILL THE SAME PERSON. It made me really, really angry that it took getting sick-thin (as I can tell from photos taken back then) for them to consider me to be attractive.

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