don't be jealous of my boogie
I once read somewhere that half of all American women are on a diet.
I will start off by saying this: I am no model. I'm not even "skinny" - I have a big chest and an even bigger ass. My thighs are pretty thick and I have cellulite. I have short legs and big feet. My upper arms aren't exactly flab-free.
And yet for the first time since leaving elementary school, I don't feel the need to watch what I eat. I am not on a diet, I don't feel a compulsive need to work out, and I don't feel guilty for having Starbucks or unhealthy snacks. The best part? I don't want to be.
In all of my coherent years, I can't remember a time when my mother (yep, bringing it back to her again) hasn't been on a diet. She isn't necessarily overweight, but she has struggled for years with numerous diets. You name it, and if it isn't an eating disorder she's tried it. The South Beach Diet and Nutrisystem are the ones I remember most because with the SB diet my own intake was influenced - every night was either salmon or lemon chicken. Nutrisystem, well, I remember the heavy boxes of space-like food that would come every month. The last diet I remember her being on was one where she got some sort of alternating days where she could eat a normal to abnormal amount of food one day and the next day stick to a set of "approved" foods.
I grew up hearing my mother constantly complain about and try to alter her body - her "thunder thighs," the fact that she needs "fat jeans," wishing she was thinner so she could fit into dresses she had in the back of her closet. Now, she hasn't really made many of these comments about herself lately, but I am in a different country and limiting my contact with her. The last thing I remember her saying regarding her weight was about needing to lose some so she can go to my cousin Chris's wedding next month. (When I asked why in the world she'd need to lose weight for a relative's wedding, she admitted to having no nice dresses she can fit in and didn't want to buy a new one.) As a kid, I'd hear her make these comments about her weight and begin to question my own. I hated my thighs especially, and when I'd voice the same complaints to her she would assure me I was fine - I will not deny she was always incredibly supportive of my body image, even if I was becoming alienated.
The first time I realized I was putting on weight was during or shortly before seventh grade - believe it or not, I wondered if I was pregnant. It defied all logic, believe me! I was definitely still a virgin, but when I told my mom I thought I might be pregnant she raised an eyebrow and asked if we needed to have the talk, if I needed to be reminded where babies come from at age 13. I quickly reassured her I wasn't doing anything like that and she laughed at me (I would have too, it was comical), saying I was just getting fat. That was the only time I can remember her using the words "you" and "fat" in the same sentence without inserting "not."
But it was probably during middle school that I became part of that aforementioned statistic, and for the next several years of my life I was on a constant series of personal diets and watching my calorie intake. I was lucky enough to not develop an eating disorder, but there was a time in high school when I attempted to starve myself, going on 500 calories a day and logging it. I was doing sit-ups and other supposed fat-ridding type exercises every night before bed in my room. It ended a week or two later when I accidentally let my new "diet" slip to one of my best friends. She promptly took me to Wendy's and I had a bacon cheeseburger and fries with root beer. I hated myself for giving in so easily. I was over 140 pounds around this time.
I hated myself a lot, actually. My hair was the main source, and my weight was the fall-back. I had to hate myself or I felt like a narcissist, arrogant for liking something about myself. Weight was something I now struggled with, and I sometimes felt a connection to everybody else if I too had to watch what I ate. The first positive comment I ever heard was from one of my best friends in high school when we were trying on homecoming dresses together - "Your stomach is so flat, I'm so jealous!!!" I had never, not once in my life considered my stomach "flat." My mom told me later that having a flat stomach runs in the family, the one good thing about our genes.
Of course, I can't put all of the blame on my mom for this one. Like I said, she supported me no matter what. I fell into the Japanese idol fandom in middle school and consequently had posters of beautiful, thin idols all over my walls. I never thought much of it at the time, but during college I began to wonder if I was subconsciously aiming to look like them, get to their weights. I'd flip through my fashion magazines and think, "I'll never be able to wear these, I need to diet." Just about every Japanese girl I know here has complained about their weight at one point. It always shocks me and the other exchange students hearing them bash themselves so openly when they don't appear to have an ounce of fat on their bodies, but the backs of all the leading fashion magazines here have tips on how to lose ass and stomach weight, exercises for a bigger chest, skinny waist, et cetera~ It doesn't matter if they're already 5'2" and 100lbs - they want to be thinner.
I expected to be assaulted with body image issues after I came to Japan, and in the beginning I was the same as always - my birthday was an especially tough time because I realized I had put on 10lbs and my friends were about to feed me with homemade breads and cookies. I was incredibly depressed. For the next month or so I would go on nightly walks that lasted over two hours at most. I don't know when it began to change, but I realized I no longer cared for the first time in my life. It helped that I was constantly getting compliments in the beginning from people who all liked curvy girls. Even the girls here think I'm thin, somehow. I've lost weight since graduating high school, so I see that as accomplishment enough.
I realize personal change needs to come primarily from your own way of thinking, but maybe the biggest influence to this was my boyfriend. Will has always made me feel extra special about my looks, and I knew things were different with him when I was able to eat in front of him the first time we had any sort of food together. I didn't feel like I needed to hold back, and he's always considered my body fine the way it is, no matter how it might morph. He thinks I'm sexy no matter what, and this has done so much wonder for my body image and how I view myself.
This isn't to say I don't have "fat days," of course!! I don't like my face cheeks and I definitely don't look good in every single piece of clothing I try on. Most recently I discovered my hips had gotten bigger after a few weeks of eating my feelings, but when I told Will he didn't care - actually, he expressed excitement, for lack of a better word. XD I can really be myself around him and feel it's okay to accept my body the way it is. I have curves, and it's time I embrace them, not fight them. I will never be 100lbs or a size 2 jeans, but my ass is pretty nice and you know, I don't think I want to lose it anymore.
I hear all of my friends, Japanese and not, talk about how they need to exercise, are going for a run to burn off lunch, are starting up a new regime because they "don't want to be fat." I can't sympathize or go along with the self-deprecation. And yet this makes me feel like maybe I'm doing something wrong after all - maybe I should be worried about my legs, about my hips, my ass. Maybe I should relapse back to those days of constant unhappiness with myself and daily guilt over whatever I ate. I've had my eating habits pointed out to me, and it's unsettling - yes, I'm eating a slice of peanut butter toast at night, remind me, how does this affect you? I had another exchange student here point to my Starbucks frappe this past weekend and call me fat. She's kind of a reputable whore so it didn't bother me, maybe it should have.
This same weekend I was Skyping with Will and became aware I was sitting in a way that emphasized the fat rolls in my stomach. I moved my arm over my stomach to cover them, and Will caught on immediately. "I know what you're doing. Move your arm...move it! That's not fat, that's normal - you're perfect, and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is stupid."
I've been missing him a lot lately and not really doing well, overall. After listening to me cry today for over half an hour and calm me down, he told me to go out, buy lots of comfort food and take a day for myself. But I'll get fat, I asserted. (If you don't make these sort of comments, you're not a true woman, a voice in my head told me.) His response? It doesn't matter how much weight I put on or how much weight I lose, I could come home with or without a big ass and he'd love me no matter how I look. I started crying more for what I'm missing back home.
Should I let what the others say influence my thinking? Relapse to dieting? Nah...I don't need it. By no means do I have a figure that you see in magazines or on TV, but it's one that I can finally accept and love for the first time in my life and I refuse to give that up.
I will start off by saying this: I am no model. I'm not even "skinny" - I have a big chest and an even bigger ass. My thighs are pretty thick and I have cellulite. I have short legs and big feet. My upper arms aren't exactly flab-free.
And yet for the first time since leaving elementary school, I don't feel the need to watch what I eat. I am not on a diet, I don't feel a compulsive need to work out, and I don't feel guilty for having Starbucks or unhealthy snacks. The best part? I don't want to be.
In all of my coherent years, I can't remember a time when my mother (yep, bringing it back to her again) hasn't been on a diet. She isn't necessarily overweight, but she has struggled for years with numerous diets. You name it, and if it isn't an eating disorder she's tried it. The South Beach Diet and Nutrisystem are the ones I remember most because with the SB diet my own intake was influenced - every night was either salmon or lemon chicken. Nutrisystem, well, I remember the heavy boxes of space-like food that would come every month. The last diet I remember her being on was one where she got some sort of alternating days where she could eat a normal to abnormal amount of food one day and the next day stick to a set of "approved" foods.
I grew up hearing my mother constantly complain about and try to alter her body - her "thunder thighs," the fact that she needs "fat jeans," wishing she was thinner so she could fit into dresses she had in the back of her closet. Now, she hasn't really made many of these comments about herself lately, but I am in a different country and limiting my contact with her. The last thing I remember her saying regarding her weight was about needing to lose some so she can go to my cousin Chris's wedding next month. (When I asked why in the world she'd need to lose weight for a relative's wedding, she admitted to having no nice dresses she can fit in and didn't want to buy a new one.) As a kid, I'd hear her make these comments about her weight and begin to question my own. I hated my thighs especially, and when I'd voice the same complaints to her she would assure me I was fine - I will not deny she was always incredibly supportive of my body image, even if I was becoming alienated.
The first time I realized I was putting on weight was during or shortly before seventh grade - believe it or not, I wondered if I was pregnant. It defied all logic, believe me! I was definitely still a virgin, but when I told my mom I thought I might be pregnant she raised an eyebrow and asked if we needed to have the talk, if I needed to be reminded where babies come from at age 13. I quickly reassured her I wasn't doing anything like that and she laughed at me (I would have too, it was comical), saying I was just getting fat. That was the only time I can remember her using the words "you" and "fat" in the same sentence without inserting "not."
But it was probably during middle school that I became part of that aforementioned statistic, and for the next several years of my life I was on a constant series of personal diets and watching my calorie intake. I was lucky enough to not develop an eating disorder, but there was a time in high school when I attempted to starve myself, going on 500 calories a day and logging it. I was doing sit-ups and other supposed fat-ridding type exercises every night before bed in my room. It ended a week or two later when I accidentally let my new "diet" slip to one of my best friends. She promptly took me to Wendy's and I had a bacon cheeseburger and fries with root beer. I hated myself for giving in so easily. I was over 140 pounds around this time.
I hated myself a lot, actually. My hair was the main source, and my weight was the fall-back. I had to hate myself or I felt like a narcissist, arrogant for liking something about myself. Weight was something I now struggled with, and I sometimes felt a connection to everybody else if I too had to watch what I ate. The first positive comment I ever heard was from one of my best friends in high school when we were trying on homecoming dresses together - "Your stomach is so flat, I'm so jealous!!!" I had never, not once in my life considered my stomach "flat." My mom told me later that having a flat stomach runs in the family, the one good thing about our genes.
Of course, I can't put all of the blame on my mom for this one. Like I said, she supported me no matter what. I fell into the Japanese idol fandom in middle school and consequently had posters of beautiful, thin idols all over my walls. I never thought much of it at the time, but during college I began to wonder if I was subconsciously aiming to look like them, get to their weights. I'd flip through my fashion magazines and think, "I'll never be able to wear these, I need to diet." Just about every Japanese girl I know here has complained about their weight at one point. It always shocks me and the other exchange students hearing them bash themselves so openly when they don't appear to have an ounce of fat on their bodies, but the backs of all the leading fashion magazines here have tips on how to lose ass and stomach weight, exercises for a bigger chest, skinny waist, et cetera~ It doesn't matter if they're already 5'2" and 100lbs - they want to be thinner.
I expected to be assaulted with body image issues after I came to Japan, and in the beginning I was the same as always - my birthday was an especially tough time because I realized I had put on 10lbs and my friends were about to feed me with homemade breads and cookies. I was incredibly depressed. For the next month or so I would go on nightly walks that lasted over two hours at most. I don't know when it began to change, but I realized I no longer cared for the first time in my life. It helped that I was constantly getting compliments in the beginning from people who all liked curvy girls. Even the girls here think I'm thin, somehow. I've lost weight since graduating high school, so I see that as accomplishment enough.
I realize personal change needs to come primarily from your own way of thinking, but maybe the biggest influence to this was my boyfriend. Will has always made me feel extra special about my looks, and I knew things were different with him when I was able to eat in front of him the first time we had any sort of food together. I didn't feel like I needed to hold back, and he's always considered my body fine the way it is, no matter how it might morph. He thinks I'm sexy no matter what, and this has done so much wonder for my body image and how I view myself.
This isn't to say I don't have "fat days," of course!! I don't like my face cheeks and I definitely don't look good in every single piece of clothing I try on. Most recently I discovered my hips had gotten bigger after a few weeks of eating my feelings, but when I told Will he didn't care - actually, he expressed excitement, for lack of a better word. XD I can really be myself around him and feel it's okay to accept my body the way it is. I have curves, and it's time I embrace them, not fight them. I will never be 100lbs or a size 2 jeans, but my ass is pretty nice and you know, I don't think I want to lose it anymore.
I hear all of my friends, Japanese and not, talk about how they need to exercise, are going for a run to burn off lunch, are starting up a new regime because they "don't want to be fat." I can't sympathize or go along with the self-deprecation. And yet this makes me feel like maybe I'm doing something wrong after all - maybe I should be worried about my legs, about my hips, my ass. Maybe I should relapse back to those days of constant unhappiness with myself and daily guilt over whatever I ate. I've had my eating habits pointed out to me, and it's unsettling - yes, I'm eating a slice of peanut butter toast at night, remind me, how does this affect you? I had another exchange student here point to my Starbucks frappe this past weekend and call me fat. She's kind of a reputable whore so it didn't bother me, maybe it should have.
This same weekend I was Skyping with Will and became aware I was sitting in a way that emphasized the fat rolls in my stomach. I moved my arm over my stomach to cover them, and Will caught on immediately. "I know what you're doing. Move your arm...move it! That's not fat, that's normal - you're perfect, and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is stupid."
I've been missing him a lot lately and not really doing well, overall. After listening to me cry today for over half an hour and calm me down, he told me to go out, buy lots of comfort food and take a day for myself. But I'll get fat, I asserted. (If you don't make these sort of comments, you're not a true woman, a voice in my head told me.) His response? It doesn't matter how much weight I put on or how much weight I lose, I could come home with or without a big ass and he'd love me no matter how I look. I started crying more for what I'm missing back home.
Should I let what the others say influence my thinking? Relapse to dieting? Nah...I don't need it. By no means do I have a figure that you see in magazines or on TV, but it's one that I can finally accept and love for the first time in my life and I refuse to give that up.