Last I checked, no one claimed any of you to be the owner of me and my body. Why is it that my weight is of such importance to people? Why is it that everyone feels that he (or she, also!) can add in two cents about what I put into my mouth?
If you have a fraught relationship with exercise, you probably keep coming back to these three excuses. I know I certainly did. But here are some unconventional things for you to try when you encounter them.
Mother blaming is patriarchy's age-old way of taking the focus away from the harm that it causes women by making women responsible for harming themselves.
Fat girls are less attractive, less worthy, more obnoxious and more unwanted. Skinny girls are the opposite: pretty, worthy, smart and desirable. And because they thought I was fat... well, the rest fell into place, too.
As a woman who threw up for more than four decades to control my weight, even as I needed the comfort and "cure" that over-eating provided, I have some insights on what the 'over love of food' is all about. It wasn't the problem. It was the answer.
When we're throwing out such an obscene amount of food (which is, presumably, actual food: broccoli, juice, cheese, and the like) do we really need to be eating coffee cups?
I thought of my scale as a security blanket -- as long as I had it, I felt like I had some sort of control. In reality, the scale controlled me. It wasn't a security blanket; it was a ball and chain.
We are all susceptible to negative self-talk, but the quicker we can learn to shift those thoughts back to the positive track the more we will stay on course to truly show up shining for every moment in our lives.
Your stomach's feats should be celebrated, not shamed. And therefore, the stomach should be displayed with, yes, I'll say it, pride. Your umbilical cord connected you, your tummy, and your mother. Without that belly, you wouldn't be here.
Struggling does not mean that you're anywhere close to weak. No eating disorder, or any mental illness for that matter, should ever be a secret. Just sitting down to write this post has gotten me further than years of silence ever did.
While "disordered eating" has not yet been incorporated into the DSM as a clinical diagnosis, it is becoming prevalent enough in society that it is attracting attention.
I was afraid to like myself. I had no idea how to love myself. The world couldn't know who I really was. If it did, then I'd feel even more rejected.
Eating disorders are not limited to illnesses that affect teenage girls. There isn't a stereotype for eating disorders; they can affect and ruin the life of any individual. That statistic alone should be enough to start talking about eating disorders and stop keeping them a secret.
Today stick thin body images created with photography software are the standard that many people try to attain. The unnaturally thin view of attractiveness is blamed for causing the increase in cases of anorexia and bulimia nervosa.
Eating disorders are very "behind closed doors" afflictions. I can't tell you how many times a parent has told me, "I had no idea." And frequently that "aha" moment comes at a startlingly late stage of the illness' progression.
It was a place where it was OK that I felt guilty after eating or wanted to cry because I hated my body. But it was also a place where I could feel proud of myself.