cognitive dissonance
i just poured my sweat, blood and tears into 42 pages of a thesis with the aim to uncover and critically examine fat stigma and oppression. i love, admire and respect women like beth ditto, who kick ass and take names and love themselves and flaunt it. but then i have a day like today, where all i can think about is "if only i lost twenty pounds..."
i would feel better/look better/smile more/whatever.
if only my arms weren't so flabby. if only my waistline were slimmer. i feel like i am at the point where, for the most part, i don't give a fuck what people think about me. but i care what i think about me, and sometimes i think that my fat is ugly and disgusting and gross. and then i try to find a picture of myself that i really like, to make me feel beautiful again, and i can't find a damn one, because i am so flawed.
there's this five pounds that's really killing me, because it sits right in my belly. i'll go a week and a half eating my weight watchers-allotted 1500 calories a day and i'll exercise and it'll be gone. but then it's back a week and a half later, because i lose control and/or decide not to give a shit. and then i give a shit. and then i wonder how much harm i'm doing to my body, losing and gaining and losing and gaining the same 5-7 pounds over and over again.
and it kills me, because i know that despite what i say out loud, i really do want to lose twenty pounds. forty, really. i reconcile this with the knowledge that i'd still be a big girl, just a slightly less lumpy one.
i'm such a fucking hypocrite. at least i can take comfort in knowing i'm not the only one.
i would feel better/look better/smile more/whatever.
if only my arms weren't so flabby. if only my waistline were slimmer. i feel like i am at the point where, for the most part, i don't give a fuck what people think about me. but i care what i think about me, and sometimes i think that my fat is ugly and disgusting and gross. and then i try to find a picture of myself that i really like, to make me feel beautiful again, and i can't find a damn one, because i am so flawed.
there's this five pounds that's really killing me, because it sits right in my belly. i'll go a week and a half eating my weight watchers-allotted 1500 calories a day and i'll exercise and it'll be gone. but then it's back a week and a half later, because i lose control and/or decide not to give a shit. and then i give a shit. and then i wonder how much harm i'm doing to my body, losing and gaining and losing and gaining the same 5-7 pounds over and over again.
and it kills me, because i know that despite what i say out loud, i really do want to lose twenty pounds. forty, really. i reconcile this with the knowledge that i'd still be a big girl, just a slightly less lumpy one.
i'm such a fucking hypocrite. at least i can take comfort in knowing i'm not the only one.