A discussion over at
clevermanka's LJ led to me mentioning that my mom did the Nutrisystem diet thing for a while in the 1980s. I'm not sure if she lost any weight when she did it. Maybe, I can't see how you'd want to eat if your meals were made up of that crap. I remember eating the little bits of freeze dried BBQ chicken from one of the meals, like it was
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I cry those same tears for my mom. I get angry at her, for her. (And sometimes for me.) She was a knockout all along--a perfect hourglass when hourglass figures ruled--and at 89 she still doesn't know it. She still insists on girdles and painful industrial-strength bras and loathes the shape we were born into: imagine the stereotypical Italian babe actively envying her Japanese friends who "are slim like boys" and "weigh 89 pounds soaking wet." It frustrates the holy living hell out of me.
I don't have a solution but I'm right there with you, my friend. Maybe all we can really do is commit to inhabiting our own bodies openly and unapologetically, with joy and pride, and encourage others to do the same.
XO
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Maybe all we can really do is commit to inhabiting our own bodies openly and unapologetically, with joy and pride, and encourage others to do the same.
I think that is about the only solution.
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THIS. Makes me so angry.
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But I really can't be too angry at my mom for fat-shaming me, considering the hell her own mother put her through.
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