The Set Point
http://www.mirror-mirror.org/set.htm
So, if this is true, then I think I know what my own set point is. Currently, my set point seems to be between 104 pounds and 114 pounds. Excluding fluid retention, bloating, heavy meals, and natural fluctuations, I've never gone above 114 pounds, not more than two or three pounds that always went back down quickly. I remember than being below 104 made me look sick and malnourished, and obviously my body was not meant to be than skinny. And my body knew that.
When I hit puberty at age eleven, I stopped growing taller than 4'11. I weighed 88 pounds. I stayed that way for a couple of years, then gained maybe seven pounds and stayed that way throughout high school. Throughout my teenage years I never went above 100 pounds. I ate healthily, I was as active as I could be with cerebral palsy and other health conditions. My metabolism was hummingbird fast.
When I entered college, I did gain weight, as many freshman do. Not the classic 15; only 8. I stepped on a scale at the campus gym, and when the scale read 101, I panicked, I admit it. I honestly believed that I "needed" to be under 100 pounds, because of my height. Over the next couple of weeks, those eight pounds disappeared with all the running around and sparse eating I did, and I was secretly extremely relieved. But I was not yet trapping myself in the endless loop of anorexic thinking.
When I was 21, at the end of the summer, I noticed that I was gaining some great muscle tone. My hips looked slim, my waist had a nice supermodel curve. I weighed approximately 98 pounds and I certainly could have gained five or ten more pounds and looked even better, but at that moment, in the full length mirror, I was thrilled with what I saw.
I believe that was the beginning. Some say than in regards to eating disorders, "genetics creates the gun, environment loads it, and extreme emotional experiences fire the ED bullet." I think that's very very apt. That's basically how it was with me.
For the next four years, I plummeted. I decided that weighing above a hundred pounds was unacceptable. Originally, I had been afraid of the college campus food, but once that concern subsided, what was left was far, far worse. The disorder had taken over and was eating me alive. My body struggled desperately to get to the lowest end of a set point it had never known. And I wouldn't let it. Not until one day, four years almost to the day, when I broke free.
So. Whether or not the set point theory works for everybody is not something I want to debate. But if my set point leaves me destined to have these curves and this padding, then I'm happy with that. I honestly do not want to go below those hundred pounds ever again. In fact, I remember a day shortly after I began recovery: walking back to the bus stop from a doctor's appointment, having weighed myself and reaching 101 pounds exactly. I took out my cell phone and texted excitedly to my best friend Beca: "I just broke 100 pounds!!" And then I called my husband and told him. I was delighted. I was happy. I was shining. I was climbing back to health.
I'm at that point now, and more. And I'm ready to go down a little, just a little because I'm okay with how I am.
I realize that everyone is very different. There are women my height who weigh 90 pounds and are quite healthy, other women my height who weigh 130 pounds and are quite healthy. In the end, the set point isn't about the weight that makes you look attractive to society; it's the weight that your body is best at, healthiest at, and ultimately most beautiful.
Still thinking.
So, if this is true, then I think I know what my own set point is. Currently, my set point seems to be between 104 pounds and 114 pounds. Excluding fluid retention, bloating, heavy meals, and natural fluctuations, I've never gone above 114 pounds, not more than two or three pounds that always went back down quickly. I remember than being below 104 made me look sick and malnourished, and obviously my body was not meant to be than skinny. And my body knew that.
When I hit puberty at age eleven, I stopped growing taller than 4'11. I weighed 88 pounds. I stayed that way for a couple of years, then gained maybe seven pounds and stayed that way throughout high school. Throughout my teenage years I never went above 100 pounds. I ate healthily, I was as active as I could be with cerebral palsy and other health conditions. My metabolism was hummingbird fast.
When I entered college, I did gain weight, as many freshman do. Not the classic 15; only 8. I stepped on a scale at the campus gym, and when the scale read 101, I panicked, I admit it. I honestly believed that I "needed" to be under 100 pounds, because of my height. Over the next couple of weeks, those eight pounds disappeared with all the running around and sparse eating I did, and I was secretly extremely relieved. But I was not yet trapping myself in the endless loop of anorexic thinking.
When I was 21, at the end of the summer, I noticed that I was gaining some great muscle tone. My hips looked slim, my waist had a nice supermodel curve. I weighed approximately 98 pounds and I certainly could have gained five or ten more pounds and looked even better, but at that moment, in the full length mirror, I was thrilled with what I saw.
I believe that was the beginning. Some say than in regards to eating disorders, "genetics creates the gun, environment loads it, and extreme emotional experiences fire the ED bullet." I think that's very very apt. That's basically how it was with me.
For the next four years, I plummeted. I decided that weighing above a hundred pounds was unacceptable. Originally, I had been afraid of the college campus food, but once that concern subsided, what was left was far, far worse. The disorder had taken over and was eating me alive. My body struggled desperately to get to the lowest end of a set point it had never known. And I wouldn't let it. Not until one day, four years almost to the day, when I broke free.
So. Whether or not the set point theory works for everybody is not something I want to debate. But if my set point leaves me destined to have these curves and this padding, then I'm happy with that. I honestly do not want to go below those hundred pounds ever again. In fact, I remember a day shortly after I began recovery: walking back to the bus stop from a doctor's appointment, having weighed myself and reaching 101 pounds exactly. I took out my cell phone and texted excitedly to my best friend Beca: "I just broke 100 pounds!!" And then I called my husband and told him. I was delighted. I was happy. I was shining. I was climbing back to health.
I'm at that point now, and more. And I'm ready to go down a little, just a little because I'm okay with how I am.
I realize that everyone is very different. There are women my height who weigh 90 pounds and are quite healthy, other women my height who weigh 130 pounds and are quite healthy. In the end, the set point isn't about the weight that makes you look attractive to society; it's the weight that your body is best at, healthiest at, and ultimately most beautiful.
Still thinking.