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**Note: I wrote this post several weeks ago and have been too afraid to share it. I’ve been struggling with this a lot over the past month or two, and didn’t have the courage to open up. But the other day, I saw a segment about this book and I almost started to cry. It was fitting that I was at the gym at the time, telling myself to work harder because of what I ate the night before. I immediately went home and bought the book and as I’m reading it it’s really hitting home for me. So that is what gave me the courage to finally share this.**
No recipe, today…no, this is another type of post. It’s a story that I’ve been wanting to tell, but I just didn’t know how, or when, and I didn’t have the courage. I’m not sure what my goal is here, except to be therapeutic maybe? It’s a little long, so I understand if you want to come back another day, when there’s sugar. But if you stick with me, thanks. 🙂
A few weeks ago I bought Jordan a dance uniform that the local HS cheer dancers wear. They had a clearance sale, so I got a shell and a skirt for $10. She was brimming with excitement to try it on. They’re size small, but meant to be small – tight – and are stretchy to accommodate. It’s a dance uniform, after all.
Her eyes were shining as she tried it on. She was so excited! And then I noticed her sucking in her stomach in the mirror. I asked her what she was doing. And she told me she was fat, so she needed to suck it in.
In that moment, my world and my heart shattered into a million little pieces.
Because she was only doing something that I do, every. single. day. I have sucking in my stomach down to an art form. Don’t we all?
Sure, society has given her influence. She watches TV, sees magazines. She is most certainly not fat, but she is a different body type than most of her friends. She’s cursed with my genes and my husband’s: stocky and built. Not fat – solid. Big boned. Prone to weight in the tummy. Her friends are all…not that way. She’s bigger than most of her friends – by design, not by fat.
As hard as I have tried to shield Jordan from my body image issues, I’ve failed. F-A-T. It’s a dirty word and I’ve said it, a million times.
I do not have a good relationship with body image. I always say I don’t have a good relationship with food, but that’s not the case. It’s body image, the way I feel that I look and the way I feel about myself. Body image and self-esteem are BFFs, in a way. Without a good body image, your self-esteem takes a pretty good hit. I’ve always had problems with both: I’m too fat, I’m not good enough, not pretty enough, not a good enough wife/mom/friend/blogger. This has roots that go way back, to where, I have no idea.
I first realized I was overweight when I was 10 years old. I had been blissfully going along, not noticing that the pre-puberty weight was actually chunk, until one day in the fifth grade. Someone was videotaping PE class. I was wearing a turquoise sweatsuit, one that was so popular in the 80s: pullover sweater and sweat pants in a bright solid color.
My world changed when we watched the video. All of a sudden I realized what everyone else could probably see. I was fat. Big. Blubber, as I was always called. The mean boys (and girls) were right!
After a few awkward years and a puberty growth spurt where weight distributed itself (ahem), I was down to a regular, normal non-chunky me. But I was still bigger than all my friends. I had passed the 100 mark. (I still remember that day too, like it was yesterday.)
In high school, teen angst, depression, and friend drama made my body image even worse. It was at that point that FAT became a regular member of my vocabulary. It’s also when I started hearing the voice in my head, the one that told me I was fat. Ugly. Not good enough. I wanted to stop eating. I wanted to be thin. I wanted to be in control of what I ate. But I didn’t stop eating. I watched the Tracey Gold saga play out in the headlines. I was obsessed with For the Love of Nancy. I wished I could be Kelly in the Peach Pit bathroom. But those people had to stop eating to do that. Who would want to stop eating?
{A future food blogger, I was.}
The voice in my head just told me that I wasn’t good enough, not controlled enough. I was a failure because I couldn’t become anorexic. I was a failure because I couldn’t purge that meal in the TGIFridays bathroom. The voice was good at telling me I was a failure at things, be it life, school, or food.
In college I was lonely. My boyfriend lived away. I didn’t make many friends. I lived at home, and my HS friends all went to the same junior college together, so they were having a HS part two. I gained a lot of weight.
The perfect storm happened one night my senior year. I had been broken up for awhile with no boyfriend prospects in sight. Then the pivotal thing in my relationship with control and food happened: I failed a test. Not just any test, one that I needed to get into a teaching program. It was a really difficult math exam, for future math teachers. I missed the cutoff by 3 points. I had never failed something so epic in my life. I had let everyone down: my parents, my teachers, myself.
That night, I stopped eating…mostly.
For a few months I lived on coffee and Excedrin. I ate dinner because I lived at home and had no choice but to eat with my parents. There would have been too many questions if I skipped dinner, so I ate it. It felt good, not just to lose the weight, but to be able to say no to something. No, I don’t want that cereal. No, I don’t want lunch. It felt good to be in control of what I wanted. Finally, I was strong enough. I dropped over 30 pounds in a month.
People noticed. I got compliments. I also finally, after so many years of coveting it, could see the triangle. You know the one: when skinny people stand upright with their legs together you can see a triangle of light through the thighs. I had one! Finally!
I remember being hungry. All. The. Time. My friends were worried about me, they urged me to eat. But I was too happy about needing a belt to wear my jeans to listen to them. I wasn’t anorexic, I didn’t have an eating disorder. I was just losing the weight I needed to lose.
I’ll never forget the day I started eating again. I went to breakfast with a couple friends, which turned out to be an intervention of sorts. They ordered me pancakes and stared at me so I’d eat. I still remember my inner conflict: eat the pancakes? Or not? I ate a bite of the pancakes. I made a decision that day, to not go all the way down the road I was headed.
That’s also the day I discovered laxatives. We don’t really need to go into that…you get the point. That went on for awhile, even into my relationship with Mel.
I made a choice to start eating again, but that certainly didn’t solve any problems. The voice in my head was still there – and strong. It’s still there today – I have never dealt with any of the issues that drove me to that point, and even though I wouldn’t ever stop eating again, I still wish I could. Every. Single. Day.
I was 5′ 4″ and 120 pounds when Mel and I started dating. I still remember pinching my tummy and calling myself fat. Now, I want to go back and slap that girl. Dude. 120 pounds? Be thankful!
Marital bliss changed my thinking. I stopped fixating, and got to a healthier me, but Mel would argue with that. F-A-T was always part of my vocabulary. I had Jordan. I gained an obscene amount of weight, but lost 50 pounds in 6 weeks because of water weight. But the 10 pounds left eluded me, and everything moved. Since I began blogging, I’ve gained a lot of weight. It’s very hard to be in this job and not, especially when you love sugar and have no willpower like I do.
I often feel like a hypocrite: I show you lots of sugar, and tell you how good it is. It is good, and I should know, because I eat it every day. But I beat myself up for every single bite. I pinch my fat and tell myself I’ll never be good. I’ll always be overweight. I refuse to weigh myself, because every number is like a stab to my heart. And when you roll your eyes at me because I say I’m fat, know that I’m not just saying it. I actually, 100%, feel it. I feel it on my stomach, in my thighs. I see it in my head. I feel it in my heart. I don’t say it for a “no, you’re not” answer. I say it because it’s my coping mechanism for how I feel about myself.
I’m not happy with the way I look, but I never have been. No matter what weight I am, I look in the mirror and I see that chubby 10 year old in her turquoise sweatsuit. And now, I’m passing down these wonderful traits to my daughter.
#momfail
I get comments all the time like, “how do you stay so thin?” and I laugh. I joke, and say “spanx” or “photoshop” but inside I’m saying, “those people are cray-cray” because they’ve never seen me naked and boy, a good black shirt can cover up anything. But I certainly don’t feel thin, not at all. I never have, and I’m not sure if I ever would – even if I lost another 30 pounds.
That episode with Jordan made me realize how unhappy I am with how feel about how I look. I mean, I always feel unhappy with how I look, but I’m realizing I need to change that. I’m not quite sure how. I don’t necessarily mean weight loss – I mean I need an attitude adjustment. I could lose 10 or 20 pounds, sure (and I should) but that’s not going to change how I feel about myself. Will losing weight change how my clothes fit? Yes. Will it make me happier? Yes, to a point. But I’m still going to feel fat. That’s what I need to change…somehow.
Here’s the thing: reading the book Almost Anorexic has made me realize something. For 15 years I told myself I didn’t have an eating disorder. That I don’t have one. I had “failed” at anorexia. I felt that if I told someone I had an eating disorder in college, or that I still suffer from symptoms, I felt that they would either (1) look at me and laugh or (2) get angry because my saying that was an insult to anorexics everywhere. But in reality? Eating disorders are a spectrum. Back in college I most definitely did suffer from an eating disorder. And guess what? I still do. Sure, I don’t starve myself. I don’t purge. But the self-belittlment I force on myself, the anger I feel when I eat, the hatred I feel for myself when I don’t work out hard enough, those are all symptoms that can fall on the eating disorder spectrum.
These feelings have been hitting me so much harder lately. Life is busy, I’m more stressed. My husband is being so successful at his weight loss. Bloggers around the internet are talking about the Food Blogger 15. Gaining weight seems to be the mark of a food blogger; it comes with the territory. I think all of this combined is making the voice in my head get louder.
Here is another thing I’m learning about myself: I’m scared. I’m scared to diet. I’m scared to cleanse, to change the way I eat. I’m scared to work with a trainer, I’m scared to try all those so-called natural gym booster supplements everyone uses. I’m scared of my scale. All of those things are triggers for me. I think I’m past the point of starving myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. All of those things are scary for me because they trigger the voice in my head. If I start a diet and cheat, I’ve failed. If I don’t work out as hard as I should, I’ve failed. I think what reading the book has me realizing is that losing weight is not the answer. Before I can lose weight, I need to silence the voice in my head.
I think I need to start realizing that I am me. I’m not a number. I’m not a pound or a dress size. My self worth should not be tied to weight. My body is my body and at 155 pounds or at 130, I need to be appreciative of it. I need to learn to accept me. Now, if I can learn to do that, I can probably bottle it and sell it for a million dollars. Because it’s something all women want, right? To be happy in their own skin?
The difference is I want Jordan to be happy in hers. I want her to put on her sparkly skirts and wacky leggings and be herself. I don’t want F-A-T to define her. When she’s called that in school, and she already has and will again, I’m sure, I want her to be able to shrug it off and say whatever, dude, I’m wearing a sparkly t-shirt and I’m happy about it. I’m not quite sure how to get her to that point, but I’m going to give it a concerted effort.
I’m going to try and cut myself some slack. If I eat a cookie, I’m going to try not to tell myself I’m ugly.
If I have a second (or third) bite after a photo shoot, I’m going to try not to hurl hurtful words at myself because I’m a disgusting piece of fat that cannot stop at one bite.
If I skip a day at the gym, I’m going to try not to tell myself I’m worthless and a piece of lard, which usually results in eating a tray of brownies.
I’m going to try not to pinch my stomach fat. That’ll be a hard one, because I do it so often, it’s a reflex.
I’m not sure if I’m going to be successful at any of those, because right now I’m certainly not. But I’m going to try.
I’m also going to tell the 10 year old fat girl in the mirror to get the f$*! out of my head. It’s about time she found something better to do.
Instead of saying “I’m fat” I am going to try saying “I’m me.”
{Now…if only I knew how to do that, I’d be golden…}
Thank you for reading. I just feel like I had to get that off my chest, and I feel better knowing I’ve finally said everything that’s been stuck inside me for a really, really long time. I appreciate it if you made it all the way through. 🙂
I’ll be back with sugar on Sunday. And, hopefully, less guilt.
Last Updated on August 18, 2022
What an amazing and inspiring post. I love that you had the courage to share this. I know that I’ve had similar thoughts before and still do. I do want you to know, though, that I think you’re beautiful. Keep making those fantastic treats of yours and definitely taste them too. Your daughter is lucky to have such a powerful woman for her mother.
Thank you, so much. I love know that I’m not alone, and that we can all support each other!
Thanks for sharing Dorothy! I am very happy that you decided to publish this, because you are not alone in your body issues. I wanted to share a similar story on my blog but I have not really felt like it had a place. I struggled with weight starting in fifth grade and never stopped. My siblings are thin as rails, but obesity runs on my dad’s side of the family. At that time my parents were getting divorced and I was angry. I tried the fad diets, but nothing ever worked. It wasn’t until my Senior year of college, when I weighed 225 pounds that my mom scared me into losing weight over Christmas break. I never had an “eating disorder”, or food addiction, I just liked to eat and didn’t pay any attention to what I ate. In January 2008, I started weight watchers. It took me 3 1/2 years but I lost 100 pounds and kept it off for quite some time. At my lowest, I was 124.5 for one of my weight-ins. The problem is, the “fat girl” inside of me never goes away. As happy as I was at 126 pounds, excited to finally shop at stores that were never previously an option for me, I was still unhappy with the way my body was. How horrible is that? My skin on my stomach and the flab of leftover fat that won’t go away, plus my monster thighs. In the past year, I have put on 10 pounds. Every day I stand in front of the mirror in disgust. I feel like I let myself “get out of control”. The funny thing is, I find that because I am so unhappy with my body, that it’s difficult to be happy in my everyday life. And worst of all, I am doing nothing proactive to change it. I am back to wearing my “fat clothes” and hiding my stomach. Then today, a waitress at a restaurant (who waits on us weekly) asked me if I was pregnant. No one has asked me if I was pregnant since 2006. No, I am not pregnant, and yes, I know that sushi is not good for pregnant women. I am terrified of gaining weight when I decide to have a child. I wish I could change the way I look at myself. I am so proud of my weight loss, I never imagined that I could do that, but I would give anything to easily be able to shed these 8-10 pounds I put on. It took me a year to loose my last 10 pounds and I am terribly afraid it will happy again. I still weight in monthly, it’s the only way I can hold myself accountable. Your article is incredible honest and I really appreciate you sharing your story. I can only imagine how lucky is that Jordan to have you as a mom. Every time you post a photo, she looks so happy. Thanks for sharing.
Oh Julianne, I’m so sorry for how you’re feeling. Thank you for sharing your story. I think you should read the book, Almost Anorexic. I think it would help you begin recovery. The whole book isn’t totally applicable to me right now (but parts of the entire thing have been applicable at some point in my life) but there are certain things that are said in there that have given me so many “aha!” moments over the past few days. Now, I don’t know if I can change alone, and I know that an ED specialist would probably be a good thing, but I’m not sure if I’m at that point (they’re expensive!) Know that you’re not alone, not at all. And you, we, CAN get help. It is NOT normal to feel this way. There is a whole world out there of people that don’t have the voice in their head. I never knew that until the other day. ((hugs))
Thanks Dorothy for your kind words. I would like to read that book. I am fortunate enough that I have not suffered through an ED or an unhealthy way of dieting, but I know there are so many people out there who have. In my adult life, I find out that the people closets to me have, and I had no idea. It is so important that we all share our story but that we help influence the next generation to be positive about the way they look and just own it. I truly appreciate you sharing and know that your readers (including myself) have so much respect for you. I encourage you to continue to share and hopefully you, myself and others who may be feeling this way can continue to try and change the way we look at ourselves. XO
Thank you Julianne!
Oh boy… I’m not sure I can type too much without turning into a blubbering mess! But, I will say I’m right there with you. Good for you for taking the time and courage to write this down! And in my case, it’s the Food Blogger 50 =(
Thank you Glory, I’m hoping it also gives me the courage to stop the thinking. Because regardless of how much weight we gain, we are people not a number. Hopefully I can get there someday. 🙂
I have to tell you, as someone who suffers with body image, I have ALWAYS suffered. As long as I can remember. And my mother never cared about what she looked like. She didn’t make me have my image issues. We naturally compare ourselves to the “pretty, popular girls”. We want to be like them. Or, at least most of us do. My point is, don’t blame yourself.
That was my case too Mindy! My mom was always so confident, self-assured. She never looked twice at herself, at least in front of me. I do not remember a time not thinking about fat. It astounds me that I’m learning it’s NOT a normal way of thinking – that not everyone looks in the mirror and sees ugly. It’s one of the many “aha!” moments I’ve had this week.
I too, have had body issues all my life and eating issues as an adult.. I feel like I constantly think about food, eating, or my “gross” body ( I’m average for sure, but of course I want to be thinner :/ ). My parents never dicussed their weight or insecurities, but somehow I picked that up. After reading your blog and Dorothy’s response, I was thinking about my two moms (real and step). Maybe because they were “skinny” and pretty, I felt like I should be too? Was that where the pressure came from?? Not from them, but from me thinking I’m supposed to look like my family members, for the simple fact that I’m related?? (“That’s so dumb! I’m me, not them!” says my logical brain, as my emotions believe the opposite.) So it seems that even if you’re not exposed to parents with negative body images you may still end up with issues?? Dang! We can’t win!
And Dorothy, you’re not alone. It’s awesome that you wrote this, and try not to beat yourself up so much. Focus on the good days. xoxoxo
P.S. I LOVE the other people that commented on your blog…sooo many cool women!
Oops, duh..it was Mindy’s response!
You mean, it’s NOT normal? Other people really look in the mirror without loathing?
Right? It’s crazy. Seriously, it sounds so simple – but it’s true. 🙂
I am so glad you pushed publish on this one. I’m proud of you for putting this out there…I’m also thinking, Wow this could be me you were writing about. I too struggle with the daily fat comments about myself. I hate how I look, and I don’t understand how anyone can ask me how I stay so slim when I bake. The blogger 15 is so real. It is a challenge every day to not say things like “fat” around my daughter too. I don’t want her to have the same body images that I have gone through. I did rounds of anorexia and bulimia in previous years…the problem was that I still thought I was fat even after all that. Sheesh I wish I could go back in time and kick myself down the block 🙂 I have gotten past that, but it is still a struggle to not do it even after all these years. Once you learn to do it, it doesn’t go away ever! You are an amazing mom and Jordan is lucky to have you and have you care so much that you would share such a personal level. I heart you so much!!! Hold your head high and know that we all have the same struggles just different versions. I’m here for you any time!!! Hugs!!!
Oh Jocelyn. Thank you for sharing your story. The thing is – we shouldn’t have to live this way. One of my “aha!” moments this week is that it’s not normal to feel this way; that not everyone does. That “Ed” the voice in my head can be silenced with a lot of work. That’s my goal. We need to get rid of the voice, because we are good people, and food and fat shouldn’t matter. ((hugs)) to you too!
Dorothy, thanks so much for sharing your story. Like you, I’ve struggled my whole life with body image, and like your daughter, I always struggled with the fact that my body type was different from that of my friends. Some of my first memories are from when I was around age 7, being unhappy with the way my thighs looked when I would squat down, and asking my mom how to spell “diet” so I could scrawl the word across full months of the calendar I kept in my room. I was a small to average sized kid/teenager, but I always felt fat because I always had skinny friends. Then I gained a LOT of weight during my freshman year in college and finally started working out to help feel better about myself. When I began seeing results, I got addicted; instead of anorexia, I turned to “exercise bulimia,” where I’d work out for several hours a day at the campus gym, then go home and work out some more. I had tons of rules for myself: anytime I stepped into the kitchen, I had to do 100 crunches, and I made myself work out for an hour for every “bad” thing I ate. When I graduated college, I was running about 40 miles a week and my body fat was in the single digits. I still thought I was fat, would still jump up and down in front of the mirror and target areas that jiggled to work harder in the gym next time.
Thankfully, I’ve been able to gain some perspective and achieve some healing from the body image issues that haunted me, although they’ll never completely go away. I don’t know if you are religious, but the first thing that really helped me was to realize that I equated being skinny with being loved, and that I believe in a God whose love for me is not conditional on ANYTHING. My husband has also been a huge help, because he honestly believes that I’m beautiful regardless of my size, but he encourages me to make healthier choices and holds me accountable for the changes I want to make.
I’ve learned several things that have really helped me: first, I will never be a size 0, or even a size 4, and that’s okay. I remember being SO frustrated in college because my roommate was a size 4 and I was a six… and I WANTED TO FIT INTO HER CLOTHES. Even at my smallest, I couldn’t… because MY BODY WAS BIGGER THAN HERS. Making peace with my body type was a huge step. I have hips, and runner’s thighs, and broad shoulders. I’m not fine boned or delicate, but I’m strong, and I’ve learned to be proud of that. Second, I learned to look into the mirror and find SOMETHING positive. I grew up seeing my mom look into the mirror and sigh EVERY time, “UGH, I’m so fat!” and that’s what I learned to do. My husband put an end to that and MADE me look in the mirror and find positive things about myself. He helped me learn to love what was in the mirror even though it won’t ever be perfect. Learning portion control was another huge thing for me: just because food is there, that doesn’t mean I have to eat it all. I learned to listen to my body: eat when I’m hungry, and stop when I’m satiated. It doesn’t take long to reach the point where you realize that feeling FULL is uncomfortable, and adjusting portions helps because you don’t get to that “ugh, I can’t BELIEVE I ate…” stage. I stopped classifying food as “good” and “bad” and focused on an “everything in moderation” viewpoint. If I want a cookie, I’ll eat one, but that doesn’t mean I need to devour the entire sleeve of thin mints. Finally, I put my focus on being healthy instead of being skinny. Instead of focusing on the negative, I focus on things I have done and things I can do to make my body more healthy. I can make better choices, I can move more, I can focus the positive: instead of “ugh, I hate how fat my thighs are,” I think how proud I am to have legs as strong as mine are. Just like Petra said; her points were excellent.
Sorry for such a long post, but what a great topic of conversation for women to have!!
Thank you Angie, for your advice and for sharing your story. I want to get to that point; where I can see something I like in the mirror. And I want to be happy with ME. I think I’m ready to start, and my husband is a wonderful support, so I have to start believing him when he tells me I’m beautiful. 🙂
Thank you for posting this. It was a really brave thing to share this part of you and so many women feel exactly the same way you do every day. It can be very lonely and alienating to have these kinds of thoughts and to know someone else is experiencing it too can make a difference. I’m proud of you for posting this (is that weird to say when I don’t really know you?) and I am very glad to have found your blog.
Not weird at all! And I think that’s one of the reasons I posted it. I think SO many women (and men) feel this way, but no one talks about it. I think knowing there are others out there struggling every day, it makes it easier to heal. I hope!
You are amazing for being able to open up! I am grateful you wrote this. My kids are still young and I hope to be a good example to them of positive body image. I think you are amazing and hope you know that I appreciate this post and your blog!
Thank you Becky! That makes me feel good. 🙂
Your honesty is so touching. It’s like you’ve taken the thoughts from my head, added courage and breathed life into them. I have many worries about my own weight and body image- and I have 2 girls who also watch me. It’s a challenge to curb my bad habits and encourage healthy words and thoughts for them. Thank you for sharing! It’s a boat that I’m sure many women are afraid to admit they’re in.
It’s so difficult! It’s not just about changing a mindset and way we feel, but about our vocabulary too. Thank you for sharing your story Katie, and for your comment.
Yo are so very brave to put this out there, Dorothy! So many of us have had similar struggles. Having a daughter of my own, I totally understand you wanting to portray a healthy body image to Jordan. I pray that you find what works for you – and that as women, we all learn to accept ourselves for who we are. Hugs to you!!
Thank you Jamie. It’s so important, that acceptance. I hope I can find it! 🙂
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