I’ve read a few blogs recently that have talked about battling weight issues, both good battles and losing ones. I’ve tried my very best to leave positive and uplifting comments along the lines of “you can do it!” “you look great!” and so on and so forth. But I know if they click my little avatar, and venture over here, the muttering will start. I’ll always just be that “skinny b*tch” who “doesn’t get it”.
Can we please stop judging? Can you stop judging? I don’t make you feel bad for being overweight, or having food/exercise/whatever issues, so please stop for a second and realize that maybe I have issues too.
I don’t exercise.
I may have the ability to eat whatever I want, but that also means that I have the ability to not eat things. And trust me, that’s not exactly a healthy perspective either.
After following Sara’s journey with food over at Domestically Challenged these past few years(?, I’m not sure how long I’ve been reading), I realize, and can finally admit, I’ve got food issues.
I’ve always been “skinny”. I don’t think a lot of people get that. What I mean is that being “skinny” is not nearly the joy most people on the other end of the spectrum think it is. Do you like having trouble finding clothes that fit you? Neither do I. I don’t enjoy shopping in the Juniors section of stores because I can’t find clothes that fit me.
I’m going to be 35 next month, I’m pretty sure belly baring tops and extremely low cut jeans are not what this mama of 2 had in mind.
And yet, those are my options.
Often, I feel like a twig (there’s a reason they called her Twiggy). I’m just one long, uncurvy stick, who feels absolutely ridiculous when people see my arms in t-shirts and let’s not even talk about shorts. I’m completely into the capri thing and I’m quite happy it never gets hot enough in Seattle to have to have air conditioning because it means the likelihood of me in a swimsuit is almost nil.
I’m not that different than those of you who label yourselves as “weight challenged”.
I have to remind myself sometimes to eat, more often than I’m willing to really admit to. I’m not bulemic/anorexic (I don’t even want to throw up when I’m sick, I sincerely can’t even imagine making myself do it on purpose). I love food, and I am often cooking up something yummy in the kitchen. I like to create, and I do enjoy the devouring. Just because I can, doesn’t mean I love my body.
My point is that judging me, and calling me skinny, which if you didn’t know, it’s an offensive word thankyouverymuch, it hurts. It hurts just as much as if I called you “fat”. So next time you see me walking down the street, stop for a second before you wish you were me.
It’s not nearly as much fun as you might think it is.