Weighing In.

Body image is a big deal in today's culture. Stand in line at any grocery store for long enough, and you will see article topics ranging from the shock and awe about which celebrity gained, to what diet trend helped a celebrity lose X number of pounds. Women and girls of all shapes and sizes are bombarded with comments, pictures, and expectations, all about weight and body image. While there are bigger issues to resolve (see racism, sexism, etc.) body shaming has

GOT. TO. STOP. 

I consider myself a fairly positive, self-loving person. I see the value in my talents and abilities. I do however, have some serious issues with my body image, and all that is affiliated. (eating habits, exercising, etc.) I've been working through my issues, and with the help of my loving husband, have worked to identify the root of a number of my issues. I've learned (or remembered) that many of my issues stem from comments from other people. Here I would like to explore those comments, and respond to them, in case someone somewhere may be struggling with the same issues I do. 

Also, before I get started... The content of this post is real life, and sometimes real life sucks. I am not, however, looking for pity or comfort. The entire purpose behind this post is to explore the issues I'm working through, and prove to myself that I'm a bad ass woman regardless of my size. Also, to provide some solidarity to anyone struggling with the same issues. 

To the wide eyed looks in reference to my pant size when I was 13

I've always been tall. I've also always had a little more chub than my peers. While this was probably totally normal, I remember a specific time when I was talking about my pant size with some friends. I was the biggest pant size, coming in at an 8. While this could have been totally healthy for a girl who had just hit puberty, I remember getting a wide-eyed stare after saying something. I went home that day and thought about how I could lose enough weight to fit in. I told myself that I was a fat cow, and that I didn't deserve to be friends with such pretty, skinny girls.

After that I did my best to hide my belly, while simultaneously squeezing into pants that were WAY too small. I kept that habit up for a while, and it eventually back fired on me in an Old Navy dressing room. I went shopping with my sister, and we were looking for some things to wear to an interview. I tried on a size that was clearly too small. She mentioned I should go for something looser. In terms of business attire, she was totally right. In my brain, she was calling me fat. (she totally wasn't, but I burst into tears, ruining that shopping trip.)

Looking back, I wish I would have known to tell my 13 year old self, that pant size is not a reflection of my personality, self worth, talents, or over all awesomeness. IT'S JUST A NUMBER. It's not a place to start comparing myself to other awesome women who happen to have a smaller number on their tag. Also, self induced muffin tops are not cute. Ever. Buy the bigger size. You aren't a lesser person for it. 

To the boy who told me more boys would love me if I lost a few pounds:

You're a really nice person. Really. We were friends, and I would not have spent time with you if you weren't. That comment, however, has stuck with me for YEARS. I'm now happily married, but still have issues with letting my husband see me in the way a husband should. I still have issues with accepting my husband's love, no matter what the scale says. 

While this isn't the single comment that sent me spiraling in self-loathing, it did help propel it. At the point in time when you made that comment, I'd been struggling with that exact sentiment, in my own head, for years. It probably started when I noticed that certain girls had boyfriends, and I didn't...and that those girls looked different from me.  You're comment did cemented it in my brain. Logically I knew it was false, but to the insecure little girl inside, hearing a boy tell me that more boys would love me if I was smaller, was devastating.

Part of me hopes that you read this and part of me doesn't. If you do, I hope that you realize that comment was hurtful, and that you shouldn't ever say anything like that ever again. I also hope you realize that while your comment was hurtful, I still value you as a person, and think you are awesome. I also know that you probably didn't mean to say something that would cause me to think that way. I do not hold this against you. 

I wish I would have had the skills to process, this, realize it was total bullshit and throw it out. I didn't, and I'm still working on it. 

To the *smaller* girls who complained about their weight.

When I heard comments about how "fat" a girl was, especially when she was smaller than me, made me question every curve on my body. I would wonder if she saw me as some kind of hippo, because I was obviously fatter. 

Anyone who has made comments about how *fat* they are:

PLEASE STOP. 

Girls with lots of fat, and girls with less fat, we all need to learn how to love our bodies for the amazing, healthy machines that they are. Why don't we talk about how we love our bodies as much as we talk about the things we hate. Or even better, talk about skills we want to develop or they type of women we want to become. Let's focus our conversations on the type of people we are, rather than the size pants we wear. You can still talk about your shortcomings, but don't ever think that your weight is somehow a shortcoming. 

To my mother, who bless her heart, had me finish everything on my plate. NO MATTER WHAT. 

My mom and I have since talked about this, so I feel okay about writing it. 

When I was growing up, we had a rule in our house: You eat what's on your plate, and you eat until it's gone. 

As a toddler and growing child, that was fine. I ate well balanced meals, and my parents regulated portions. As a teenager, who was struggling with emotional eating, and now dishing her own portions, this was an equation for disaster. I ate WAY more than I needed, and it got especially bad when I did a stint as a vegetarian. Rather than crafting well balanced veggie meals, I just filled the protein portion of my plate with carbs. Around this time, the rule became an excuse to eat anything that touched my plate. 

While this wasn't my mother's fault, I can point to the rule of finishing everything on my plate, as a starting place for my binge eating habits. Even now, I hear my inner voice telling me to finish what's in front of me, regardless of how full I am. On multiple occasions Kyle has given me "permission" to leave leftovers on my plate, or at a restaurant. I'm 23, and just learning that it's okay to leave 5 bites on my plate, regardless of the money or time that went into putting it there. I hope that one day I'll be able to teach my children the same thing much earlier. 

To the comment on how much I'm eating. 

This one is related to the point above, but in essence, it's own issue. It's no secret that I struggle with binge eating. I hide wrappers, and eat a ridiculous amount of junk when I'm depressed, anxious, angry, or stressed. I use food as a drug to numb the uncomfortable emotions I'm feeling. 

I've done this for a long time, and I remember on multiple occasions, comments about how much food I was shoveling away. While I am sure these comments were more often than not, well meant, they still threw a wrench in an already dysfunctional cycle. 

Imagine for a moment that you struggle with eating to cope with uncomfortable emotions. You are standing at a party, and feeling uncomfortable because your friend brought you to her friend's party. You don't know anyone. You automatically start looking for the snacks, and find a table with large amounts of food just sitting there waiting to be used as a security blanket. You begin to eat, and suddenly your brain shuts off. You continue to eat, but then your well meaning friend mentions that you've eaten almost all the Doritos yourself. After that, not only are you uncomfortable because you don't know anyone, you are embarrassed and angry with yourself for eating all the Doritos. Now you begin to eat, in secret so your friend doesn't see, for three emotions, rather than just one. 

I've been that person. I've been the one eating as fast as I can to shut up the emotions inside, and console my hurt feelings. My response to two fold. 

First, to the well meaning friend:

While your comment about eating too much is well meant, it doesn't land well. Rather than commenting on the food, I would recommend redirecting your binge eating friend. Try distracting, or even physically removing them from the food (but even then be gentle.) Help introduce them to someone at the party, or get them involved with other people in another way. I understand that if you aren't close, you might not realize they are a binge eater, and it might not even be as easy as seeing them eat copious amounts of food. In those cases I have one piece of advice: 

When you are tempted to comment on how much food anyone is eating, don't. No matter where they are on the body image scale, the comment isn't necessary. It's more likely to hurt than help, and for all you know that person really is that hungry, and isn't just eating for the sake of eating. 

The first time I remember this comment, I hadn't eaten all day, and was stuffing my face with totally normal foods. Nothing junky, and in perspective, not too much. I was just eating it ridiculously fast. Someone commented on how much I was eating and it started a terrible cycle of weight management issues. I still struggle with figuring out what normal portions are, and have struggled through stints of starvation, only to binge bad after a day or two. 

My advice to the Doritos bringer: 

Get help. Educate yourself. Figure out if you are an emotional eater, or what else could be causing you to mindlessly graze. I didn't even know binging, without purging, was a thing. Find ways to cope with your emotions that aren't food. Also, therapy isn't a terrible choice. In fact, it could really help you identify the issues you are trying to numb with food. There is something awesome about telling another person (who doesn't know you) about what you are feeling. 

And finally, to the first person to suggest a diet to my 13 year old self. 

Honestly, I don't remember if this was a person, or a magazine article. All I remember is it was the start of a vicious cycle that I'm still working every day to break.  I wish I could throw the word diet out of the English language, just so the girls (or boys) younger than me won't learn it. It's a terrible sentiment, and I hate it. 

Diets (I'm cringing as I use the word) provide the fast-fashion solution to weight issues. They parade around sounding super bourgie, and easy. In reality, they will wear out faster than a Forever 21 NYE dress, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and angry with yourself for trying (and failing) it again. 

Dieting is the worst possible solution to weight gain. ESPECIALLY in children. 

While it sounds uber woo-woo and hippy-ish, I prefer lifestyle. Changing your lifestyle, and the way you think about food, goes beyond a diet. 

While this is the ultimate goal, I still struggle DAILY with this. Embarrassingly enough my search history from last week will confirm that I still seek out the fast fixes to weight issues. I'm a sucker for the articles claiming to have the next best Dr. Oz fat flush figured out. When all is said and done, however, I've done enough juice fasts to know that physical healthy goes beyond just what you eat, or choose not to eat. 

All in all, my issues with body image, will be a lifelong battle. I will probably always struggle with saying no to cake, even when my stomach is full. But at least finding the root of these issues is a start. I'm working, one day at a time, to regulate my weight, and find a healthy balance between kale and cookies. 

How I’m Learning to Kick Anxiety’s Ass

For most of my adolescent and early adult life, I’ve lived with an almost dilapidating case of anxiety. I carry around with me a sense of impending doom, the feeling that something terrible will happen at any given moment. I have good days and bad days, but the bad days are dark, and happen frequently. While most people feel this fear or stomach turning anxiety during times of uncertainty, I feel it more days than not, and in situations that don’t call for it.  The week leading up to my wedding (and incredibly joyous occasion which I do not regret one bit) I felt this anxiety so strongly, that I seriously questioned my choice. Looking back, this questioning was a normal case of doubt, that most people would deal with by kissing their fiance, and letting the irrational questions wash away with the love of their significant other.

Recently I’ve been working to reevaluate my life, and where I stand in reference to the values and ideals I grew up with. I think this is something everyone should do a time or two, because if there is anything I’ve learned in my short 23 years on this planet, it’s that I am my own person and have different needs than my parents, siblings, and friends; that it’s okay to change.

During this reevaluation, I’ve come to realize that my anxiety stems from a large heaping portion of guilt. I’ve been walking around doubting my decisions, and hoping nothing bad happens because I feel as though I’ve been doing something wrong. Let me state right here that while I do believe in a set of morals that guide my life, I also believe that the scale of right and wrong is more fluid than we realize.

Think for a moment about a two women who both have babies the same age. One may breastfeed while the other uses formula. We may believe that formula is wrong for a child, but that doesn’t mean it’s the case for everyone. It is not anyone’s place to tell that mother she’s doing something wrong when it comes to her child. For all we know, one child has allergies, so severe, breastmilk isn’t an option. And it’s more than likely that mother feels immense guilt for feeding her child formula, because the mom’s in her baby yoga class shun, or judge her for dealing with a situation the best she knows how.

Now, not every decision we make in life is going to be as trivial as what to feed your baby (though I sympathize with moms who struggle with that issue, and by no means am I trying to downplay the headache it causes.) Most of the time, when we are feeling guilt, it is because of something much larger, and more “serious” in the eyes of society or ourselves.

In my case, I’ve been struggling with appeasing this heavy load of guilt, caused by living my life in a way that is different from that of my family and friends. I am the personification of the stories I was told about people who have “fallen away.” Now this could be the point at which I explain that and confess all my difference or wrongdoings, but I’m not going to. What I am going to do is say that this heavy load of guilt has got to go.

My life is beginning to look very different from what I ever imagined, but I am incredibly excited, and even happy about that. By letting go of this guilt, I’ve found I’m able to chase after experiences that otherwise I would have shied away from, for fear of being wrong. I’m in the process of interviewing for a job that excites me and will fulfill many of my life-long dreams. I can tell you right now, if this guilt monster had its way, I wouldn’t have even applied to this job. I wouldn’t have wanted to play into the appearance of evil, regardless of me actually doing anything “wrong.” I have issue with that because to me that gives the power to other people, and excuses their choice to judge my life and choices. As far as I remember, no one on this earth has the right to judge our decisions, and what is “in our hearts” is more important than what other people think of us.

Throughout this transformation of sorts, I’ve learned that it’s okay to question anything that is placed in front of you. And I don’t mean ask the right questions, that will lead you to the “only” answer. I mean question in a way that challenges you, and pushes you think bigger than the solution in front of you. I’ve always been known as a curious person, but until recently I’ve only asked the “right” questions, never the wrong ones. As a naturally curious person, I am discouraged by there being such thing as a “wrong” question. What does that even mean?

In science, there is no wrong question, because the point of putting a hypothesis out there is hoping people try to poke holes in it. If you have something more than a hypothesis, and it’s stood the test of being questioned with the intent of disproving, then it moves into being a theory. As a scientist, looking for more information, it would be fruitless to have “right” and “wrong” questions, because the quest for understanding would be halted.

So what does all this have to do with anxiety? Well, by learning there are no wrong questions, and learning that it’s okay to change, I’ve seen my anxiety melt away.  I no longer feel bound by guilt, and can move on into a life full of discovery, and learning. I no longer feel fear in pursuing the pipe dreams I’ve been holding on to for years. I’ve opened myself up to developing relationships with people that otherwise I would have avoided, and I’ve opened up to stronger relationships with those people because my definition of what is right, and what is wrong, have changed. By learning it’s okay to ask any question, my fear of the unknown (AKA my anxiety) has for all intents and purposes disappeared. Sure, I still get nervous going into an interview, or contemplating what would happen if I lost my job. But I’ve also come to realize that I can make it out of those situations because I’m a capable human being who can build back up from just about any loss. I am reminded of the poem by Ernest Hemingway, and I’ll leave you here with that quote. It’s a good reminder.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
― William Ernest Henley, Echoes of Life and Death;

Controversy Alert: Feminism Is Not Selfish

I saw a response to a video the other day that said something along the lines of “choosing not to have children is selfish, and feminism is a tool of the devil.” My heart sank, and I wondered why that person was equating childless couples with tools in the devil’s Craftsman box.

To be fair, this was from a very conservative person, whose religious views are dear to their heart, and are the basis for all values this person lives by. That’s fine. Live your life the way you choose. It’s your life and your choice. (See that? That’s feminism.)

My problem isn’t that this person is living their life like this, but is also choosing to dishonor the good name of feminism, something that isn’t inherently selfish.

Feminism is believing in, and working for a world where men and women are treated as equals. It’s a world where a woman’s choice to not have children, or have children, is scrutinized as much or as little as a man’s. (or not at all) It’s believing a place where our choices are valued and respected because we are human, not because we are women (or men.) It’s a place where having children is a personal choice, not a society driven expectation.

This response to feminism sprouted from a video entitled “having children is anti-feminist.” I get it. That title sounds like it’s going to judge you for your choice to have children. But hear me out.

It has been proven that women who have children make 5% less than her male counter-part for every child. If you are looking at this from a working-girl’s perspective, having children is anti-feminist, not inherently, but because we live in a society where a women’s role is determined for her. She is running the risk of being devalued at a corporate level because she chooses to have a baby. But she’s also being judged if she chooses a career, because that’s obviously a selfish thing to do.

We live in a world where newlyweds are questioned about when they are having children, as if it isn’t even an option to do otherwise. We live in a world where little girls are given baby dolls, and learn to be mothers, but need special support clubs and groups when they want to study engineering. We live in a world where it is assumed how a person will live their life, before they are given the option.

Now, to stray away from childbearing, because that is an incredibly personal choice, let’s talk about the fact that “feminism is a tool of the devil.”

Riiiiiiiight.

So, the devil wants us to live in a world where we are encouraging of both men and women, and learn to respect others’ choices because we are decent human beings? And it’s the devil who wants equal pay? That’s not the devil I learned about in Sunday school.

Now, to give credit where credit is due, I can see where the extreme, stereotypical (possibly fictional) FEMINIST we all think of could be a tool of the devil. Every conservative-raised teenager has heard about this feminist. You know, the one who doesn’t shave her armpits, and is a self-proclaimed “man-hater.” 

How many of those, aside from maybe the armpit hair, have you come across?

My count is a big fat ZERO.

All of the feminists I’ve come across have promoted love, acceptance, and a desire for change. They want to fight THE man, not all men. They want women to be educated, self-loving, and all in all good people who play nice with the men in the sandbox. In other words, they want a society where women’s choices and desires are valued as much as her male counterpart, and vice versa.

I’ve also spoken with a number of conservative, anti-feminists (you know the not selfish ones) who feel it’s their right to limit what their friends, neighbors and colleagues rights and abilities are, because it’s what they personally believe.  It’s their right to tell a woman she shouldn’t work “outside of the home,” because it would be selfish to do so and her unborn children need her doing other things. These women also see men as a way of being taken care of, and that's an entirely new beast. Men shouldn't be locked into anything either. 

See, I have a problem here. Not in the fact that some people want to be stay-at-home moms, because that’s totally cool. I have a really great one. My issue is that those same women judge me for having a career, and wanting to be well versed in skills outside of the home. My issue is that while my husband and I are working on our careers, and learning to establish ourselves, people are whispering about how selfish we are for not having kids yet. My issue is with people who question why a couple hasn’t had kids after 5+ years of being married, and wonder what else could be more important.

NEWS FLASH: We are all individuals, and have different needs and desires. Personally, because I believe in complete transparency, I want kids someday. I see that glowy image of picket fences and Sunday pot-roasts and it’s not gross to me. But it is gross to some people, and THAT’S OKAY. I have no right to judge them for wanting to work on their career for the rest of their lives, and be fulfilled in that way.

I’m learning to be very suspicious of people, and institutions, who tell me that “I don’t know how to be happy,” if I’m doing things differently than they are. I’m sorry, but that’s a load of bull shit. I don’t believe in a world where we would all be happy doing exactly the same thing. The fact that my husband loves math, and thinks it’s awesome, but can’t write worth beans (sorry honey) and I am the complete opposite of him, is proof of that. OH RIGHT, he’s a man, and I, a woman.

Okay, woman to woman. I have a sister who is a vet. She worked her ass off to get through vet school, and is really great at it. She’s happy doing that, but when I think about all the animal poop she has to deal with, I’m good with just my dog.

All this really boils down to is the fact that we all have lives to lead, and choices to make, and I don’t think it’s okay for one person to judge another for that choice. But, you know if that’s what you want to do, no judgement here, it’s your life. I’m just going to continue living selfish, devilish life. But I am going to shave my armpits.