triggers
So I was at dinner the other day and a friend of mine was all, "No I'm not getting dessert. I already have to run extra because I ate cake for breakfast."
And I said to her something like but not exactly, "eat dessert if you want to. It's literally like 5 ounces of fluff. It will not make you fat. Also, you're awesome looking anyway."
Except inside I had this extreme compulsion to grab her shoulders and shake her vigorously. When I hear someone go, "I'll be working out extra today" because they ate something or other that made them feel bad I just want to raise up my fists to the sky and scream at the heavens.
"NO!" I want to scream. "You want to work out because it's good for you and you don't want to live your western medicine elongated life on a bed with nurses and a bedpan!" Do this thing that involves sweating and rapid use of calories in order to enchance your health and not your physical appearance. What's the most angering is that to some degree I do it too. In the winter I get rounder around the edges because I don't work out and I eat more (damn it if I'm for some weird reason hungrier when I'm not exercising). Sometimes I put on a pair of jeans and go, "wow this is kind of tight..." and immediately I think, "I'm gaining weight" and then there's a momentary glint of panic just before I throw myself against a spike and bash my brains into a wall. Because I mean really. Why would being fat be the thing that makes me panic? As apposed to cancer or murder or being transported to Narnia?
And then immediately this thought pops into my head that maybe I should just be fat. I'd be so fat and I'd flirt with guys and I'd have lots of sex and it would be so awesome because I'd be like, "fuck you and your ideals of beauty and your cultural stigmas." Or how I told my mom I'm weirdly hungry all the time and I have to eat more and she says, "careful. You don't want to get fat" and I just want to reply, "maybe I do want to be fat. Maybe I'll just gain 100 pounds and become a model."
But no. I wont do that. Because then I'd probably not be able to climb stairs without huffing and puffing and because I'm not SUPPOSED to be on the higher end of the BMI scale so it wouldn't be good for me and all my clothes wouldn't fit anymore and I really like my clothes.
Or other times I want to shave off all my hair and walk around with braided armpit hair and my leg hairs as long as they'll go and just sit there. In public. In a bikini. With my arms high over my head. Maybe one day I'll do that. I'll go sunbathing in central park and I'll look "hideous" and everyone will stare and be disturbed but I wont care. Because inside my soul will be flipping the biggest bird in the history of the universe.
And I'll wear a merkin, because why the fuck not?
And I said to her something like but not exactly, "eat dessert if you want to. It's literally like 5 ounces of fluff. It will not make you fat. Also, you're awesome looking anyway."
Except inside I had this extreme compulsion to grab her shoulders and shake her vigorously. When I hear someone go, "I'll be working out extra today" because they ate something or other that made them feel bad I just want to raise up my fists to the sky and scream at the heavens.
"NO!" I want to scream. "You want to work out because it's good for you and you don't want to live your western medicine elongated life on a bed with nurses and a bedpan!" Do this thing that involves sweating and rapid use of calories in order to enchance your health and not your physical appearance. What's the most angering is that to some degree I do it too. In the winter I get rounder around the edges because I don't work out and I eat more (damn it if I'm for some weird reason hungrier when I'm not exercising). Sometimes I put on a pair of jeans and go, "wow this is kind of tight..." and immediately I think, "I'm gaining weight" and then there's a momentary glint of panic just before I throw myself against a spike and bash my brains into a wall. Because I mean really. Why would being fat be the thing that makes me panic? As apposed to cancer or murder or being transported to Narnia?
And then immediately this thought pops into my head that maybe I should just be fat. I'd be so fat and I'd flirt with guys and I'd have lots of sex and it would be so awesome because I'd be like, "fuck you and your ideals of beauty and your cultural stigmas." Or how I told my mom I'm weirdly hungry all the time and I have to eat more and she says, "careful. You don't want to get fat" and I just want to reply, "maybe I do want to be fat. Maybe I'll just gain 100 pounds and become a model."
But no. I wont do that. Because then I'd probably not be able to climb stairs without huffing and puffing and because I'm not SUPPOSED to be on the higher end of the BMI scale so it wouldn't be good for me and all my clothes wouldn't fit anymore and I really like my clothes.
Or other times I want to shave off all my hair and walk around with braided armpit hair and my leg hairs as long as they'll go and just sit there. In public. In a bikini. With my arms high over my head. Maybe one day I'll do that. I'll go sunbathing in central park and I'll look "hideous" and everyone will stare and be disturbed but I wont care. Because inside my soul will be flipping the biggest bird in the history of the universe.
And I'll wear a merkin, because why the fuck not?