I’ve been blogging my weight since December and sometimes I don’t know if it’s made the situation in my head better or worse. One thing it has done is clarified the painful truth that I desperately want two things that are irreconcilable.
Thing one: to be free from yo-yo dieting and the torment of weight obsession and feel good about myself, body included, exactly as I am.
Thing two: to be thin enough to feel comfortable in my body and in clothes. I know that my weight here in the mid-140s is perfectly healthy, but I also know from past experience that I feel confident and good about my appearance at about 135.
It is impossible to pursue these goals simultaneously, although I sometimes rationalize that 135 is not even skinny for my petite frame and is probably an equally healthy if not healthier size for me, therefore I should go for it with all my might. I sometimes skip meals or try to skip meals to that end, knowing all the while how incredibly stupid and counterproductive that is.
At times, I can barely enjoy the success I’ve had as a food writer–a level of success that in the not-so-distant past I did not dare to even dream of–because of the weight challenges it brings. I feel like a fat, vain, frivolous, whining moron 99 percent of the time.
Why can’t I just live with being 147 pounds? Being size 10 is hardly the end of the world. But often, it feels that way. There is a constant war going on inside me between the me who believes I am worthless if I am not thin and the me who believes that my worth has nothing to do with my size.
This inner conflict really came to the surface lately, after I spied this freelance writing opportunity to be Shape magazine’s Weight-Loss Diary columnist for 2010. I have criticized Shape magazine and this column in particular for positioning healthy, normal women as circus fat ladies to be transformed. The anointed writer-fatso is provided a personal trainer, nutritionist, and life coach plus the obvious motivation of a public monthly weigh in and photo op. Who would not lose weight under these circumstances?
And as much as I’ve disdained this annual display of body loathing, I seriously considered applying. It probably pays well, I said to myself. And think of the national clips and exposure! I’d probably be a strong candidate as a credentialed writer with an interesting story. And, of course, I’d have to leave my restaurant reviewing job, because of the photos, and that other cookbook I’m hoping to write can totally wait. That would surely save me a zillion calories …
For more than a minute, even though I know it goes against the most basic things I believe, I considered abandoning the very most important and fulfilling aspects of my career for the promise of a personal trainer and losing 20 pounds by 2011. I was trying to figure out if I would sellout on myself and my fellow women to be a size 4 again. Thankfully, eventually, I decided that the answer to that question has to be no if I am to go on living with myself. But it disturbs me that I had to think about it and it reveals how desperately, on some level, I want to be thin, even if I intellectually understand how meaningless that goal is.
