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In my post yesterday where I was talking about the election, I asked a rhetorical question that now is really bugging me. The post was about an absurd article I found talking about the ten fattest states being for McCain and the ten slimmest being for Obama. I said the article was absurd as asked the question: “Are there really fat Beliefs?”
I got a rather incindiary response from a commentor, Kay, about my post, and she specifically addressed the subject of Fat Beliefs. I tried to explain in a comment how I felt, but I’m not sure I was clear. I’m going to try again here.
Since Fat Acceptance has just recently become a part of my life, I’ve never thought about my fat as dictating my belief system. My beliefs are centered more on women’s rights, feminism, and human rights in general. For me, the fact that I’m fat does not dictate how I think, vote, etc. It has been an emotional hurdle for me to overcome, and has inspired me to act on behalf of this injustice, but I have not been able to translate that directly to action, political or otherwise.
Herein lies my problem: my beliefs are not Fat Beliefs. I can’t become an activist for fat acceptance if I can’t even figure out what that means. I can’t even put my beliefs in the realm of fat. Other things always come first: women’s rights, equality, promoting tolerance, etc. Are these Fat Beliefs? Are these just other beliefs that just happen to blanket my fat? What are Fat Beliefs?
This is something I’m really having trouble wrapping my mind around, and I’m curious about what all you think. Kay said in her comment:
I sure as hell absolutely am “voting with my waistline.” Staying alive is one of my top priorities.
I honestly don’t think I understand that comment at all. I’ve been pondering about it since I recieved it yesterday, and I don’t understand it.
So, someone, please help me put this into perspective. Are there really Fat Beliefs?
Okay, y’all, I’ve seen this out on the fat-o-sphere lately, and am a little late in picking it up, but this article is one of the funniest, most contrived things I’ve ever seen. Basically, the whole thing is talking about how all of the fattest states in the nation are going to McCain, and all of the slimest states are going to Obama.
Of the 10 fattest states, nine show strong support for the Republican nominee, John McCain, with only Michigan – once considered a battleground state, but recently abandoned by McCain’s campaign – as the exception.
Of the 10 least obese and overweight states, eight support the Democratic nominee, Barack Obama, although Colorado, where Obama is ahead by four points, is still considered a toss-up. The exceptions are the conservative mountain states of Utah and Montana.
But THEN, believe it or not, the author goes off about traditional voting patterns relating to traditional eating habits and poverty.
There are many confounding factors here imposed on traditional voting patterns – a link between poverty and obesity, that the conservative states of the South traditionally enjoy fried foods, and the influence of the healthier cuisines of Asia and the Mediterranean on the east and west coasts.
Overall, this whole article feels like a ton of crap. There is, I agree, a relationship between poverty and obesity for a lot of people, but not everyone. And I don’t appreciate being considered as part of a mindless mass. Overall, as a fat woman, I’d rather vote for Obama because he’s for all of my issues. Which, believe it or not, world, are NOT related to my FAT.
Sometimes I think people get too caught up on weight. Yes, it is an emotional, pretty much hard to deal with, thing. BUT, I don’t vote with my fat. I vote with my values and beliefs. Are there really Fat Beliefs?
I hope all of you out there, fat or thin, will take a moment to consider the actual issues. I really really hope you’re not voting with your fat. And even if you, I think you’ll find a nice toasty companion in Obama. He’s less fat-hating than McCain.
This year is my first year living completely and utterly alone. I had a single room my sophomore year, when I was an RA, but I was still on the meal plan on campus, so I wasn’t really ever completely alone. The first few weeks of RA training (really, most of September), they kept us so busy that I didn’t realize exactly how alone I was. But over the past few weeks, I’ve definitely felt my aloneness keenly.
Though I’m the head RA in my building, and still living in a residence hall, I have an apartment. I have a closet-turned-kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom, all to myself. It’s a great, cute little apartment, and I love it, but GOSH to I feel isolated sometimes. I honestly spend a lot of time alone, in my room. I’m a very social person, although I do need “me” time, but lately, everything has been just me, by myself. I’ve realized, that the only big difference between now and before is that I’m eating alone, and cooking for one.
My friends teased me last year about how I’d be cooking for myself and no one else. Before, meals were always a very social time. Sometimes, it was the only time all day that I would spend hanging out with my friends. I think that meals are important in that way. Before college, I’d eat with my family, at home, around the table. I know that not every family does that, but GOSH was it some of my favorite time ever. And then in college, my friends became my family, and we ate together.
Now, it’s completely different. Eating is a very…lonely affair. And when it comes down to it, I think it’s taken some of the joy out of eating for me. Having to cook is certainly a bit of an experience, since I haven’t had to cook before. But the actual eating is just…going through the motions.
I don’t know how to feel about it. But I think that recently, this has been the key to my feelings of loneliness. I think that in many ways, it’s not good for me to spend so much time by myself. For one, I get almost nothing done when I feel lonely because I’m always spending time on the internet, or talking to people online because it makes me feel like there are other people out there, and not like I’m on my own little island without communication with the outside world.
Second, I have too much time to think, and too much time to get down on myself. I’ve battled with a lot of negativity, especially when stressed, these past few weeks, and that bothers me. I like being my happy, bubbly self, and it makes me feel even worse to think about how down I feel.
Thirdly, I start, because of that stress, to set, believe it or not, HIGHER expectations for myself. And then when I fail to meet them, I’m just a ball of misery. Eventually, yes, I come out of it–usually with the help of my friends, and spending time with them–but I don’t like the cycle. And I want to break it. I’m a firm believer of mind over matter, and I hope that even writing this post will help. I haven’t been feeling as bad lately, mostly due to a lot of quality time spent with both family and friends, but midterms are about to happen, my life is getting busier, and I have a lot to do. Which, overall, means more time spent in my room, by myself.
So, does anyone have an advice on how to handle my loneliness? Please please let me know, and share any stories you might have. It’ll help.
Kate at Shapely Prose informs us that today is the NOW Love your Body Day! How/What do you love about your body?
Me? I’m a big fan of my calves and ankles. They’re very shapely, and just plain beautiful. I also really really like that small bit between my knees and my thighs that has this absolutely beautiful curve to it. I’m admiring it today by wearing shorts until I have to put on pants (because it’s cold!). I think I made it obvious by yesterday’s post that I love my hair. And, for that matter, my boobs. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with any of that! And the best part is, I’m a package deal. All those beautiful limbs and boobs wrapped up together in a beautiful body! Wooo! Love Love LOVE my body!
Tell me what YOU love about YOUR body! And make sure you love it all evenly! It’s not fair otherwise!
I got my haircut this weekend! And I love it. Absolutely love it. There’s something about getting a Haircut that rejuvenates me. Here’s the before and after:
BEFORE
AFTER
What do you all think?
I think this is probably my favorite thing to do, cut my hair. I love trying new styles, being able to do new things with it, and overall, I love feeling like I have a new look. It’s something drastic that makes me feel like a new person.
There’s something about making a drastic change to one’s appearance that really gets me going. I absolutely love doing it. It’s addicting. Like, when I got my new bras (cited as my “Re-boob-olution”), and suddenly had this burst of self confidence. For me, it’s the same thing wtih hair. I like to change my hair in response to particular pressures and stages in my life. When I graduated from high school, I’d been growing out my hair for an age and a half (in response, I think, to a terribly short haircut as a child that scarred me for life). It was about down to my waist. It was frizzy, curly, and unmanageable. I wore it up in a ponytail every day.
Then, school ended. At my high school we have two weeks between when school ends and when we graduate (seniors get out two weeks early, that is). So, what’d I go off and do? In those two weeks, I cut off ALL my hair. We cut off about 11 inches, which I then donated to locks of love. My hair still brushed my shoulders, but GOSH, it was incredible. It was like a clean slate. I was able to wear my hair down for the first time in my life. I was able to just really have fun with it. Since then, I’ve been addicted to the drastic change of hair.
My sophomore year of college, I made a drastic change by getting bangs. Again, I was at the same point in my life where I needed a change. This one was more of a “gosh, am I sick of the way I look” cut, but it had the same effect. I played, I had fun with my image, and I absolutely loved my bangs.
And that brings us to this haircut. Why, after months of growing my hair long, did I cut it this time? I think I’ve talked once or twice about how I’m moving forward in my life, and making decisions about my future. Being a senior, I feel like the future is coming at my like a runaway horse, and I’m about to get trampled by it. So, to challenge that fear positively, I got a haircut. A haircut that I would consider almost “young-professionalish.” I’m really happy with the result. I think this haircut is easy to manage, easy to straighten, makes me look good, and makes me look much more like an adult than a kid. Overall, I’m really glad I did this. I feel good again, and I’m looking forward to my future with a fresh start!
Anyone else have some incredible haircut stories?
So News:
This fat girl making movies got an internship with PBS in Chicago for her winter break! I’m soooooo excited! It’s going to be so much fun! It’s for the entire month of Decemeber, and I’m going to be living with some friends, and having an absolute ball!
That was something that I didn’t think I’d get, so it’s pretty darn exciting.
In other movie-related news, there’s a feature film (an indie film) being filmed on the campus of my college, and they’re letting all of us students help out in all aspects of the production! I’m hopefully doing post-production work, which means some editing, if they let me. That or camera action. It’s super exciting.
Finally, I’m still working on the dreaded Senior Thesis film. It’s…coming together, slowly but surely. Unfortunately, that means I’ll have to spend my life (almost all of it) in an editing lab. And that’s going to happen sooner rather than later. My intership with PBS means I can be working on my own film during the first few weeks of December (because I’ll be taken away from my editing lab…I really need to invest in a Mac). So the schedule of my own editing will have to be pushed up a bit!
Anyway, just wanted to report on those things. You might see a better post later today, so keep a lookout!
I’ve put a sticky note on my desk with this written on it:
MY EXERCISE GOAL:
1. Take time for me: breathe, be positive, relax.
I’ve decided to think about working out in a different way (and although I bet a ton of you have already gotten to this place, I’ve just started to get there): working out should be a time for me and only me. It should be my meditation, my time to relax, my time to think things through, and most importantly, my time to breathe.
Since I was in eight grade I’ve thought of exercise as a chore, a job, a task not for me, but for everyone else who was telling me to “lose weight, get thin, be happy later.” At the time I was in a program called “Shapedown” with my parents, in which we talked about weight, health issues, and familial issues that could lead to unhealthy habits. It made you set goals to meet; goals like how many hours of TV you’d watch a week, how many hours of exercise you’d do, how many dinners you’d eat together at the dinner table as a family, etc. Looking back on it, it was pretty dumb. But it did institute a lot of changes in my family that made most of my family life even better. However, from day one my exercising was not for me: it was to meet the family goal.
I have never enjoyed working out. I’ve never liked treadmills. I have bad joints in my feet, toes, etc., and they act up when I walk/run. I’ve never liked sweating (still one of my biggest problems with working out. I sweat too much). I’ve always hated wearing tennis shoes, too. And socks. Gosh, do I hate socks.
So, in thinking about my program for the Individual Fitness class I’m taking (and really, in thinking about how to make physical activity a really good habit) I realized I had to find some way to make working out fun. It came to me when I decided to do “time management” as one of my journals for the class: my time, which can be so easily divided between classes, work, my thesis, and friends, is my most precious currency. And my demotivation to work out is often caused by my desire to use my time to “relax,” i.e. sit around and play on the internet.
So, smart old me decided to set a goal: make my exercise time into “me” time. That way, it will be something entirely selfish. It will be something for me to feel good. I already tend to make time for “me” time, but this will be better. And it will be MINE. And I am dreadfully protective of what is mine.
Hopefully, I’ll meet my goal. But I think it’s more of a mentality thing. And I am determined.
I think the absolute worst part of middle school was gym class. And I had a lot of bad times in middle school. I’m sure it’s every fat kid’s nightmare to be forced to run the mile, wearing skimpy shorts and t-shirts, while your classmates lapped you, teased you, maybe even gawked at you. I really honestly blame my middle school experiences in gym classes for my hatred of going to the gym today. They really did make it a race; we were forced to do all of these terribly stupid things, that really did not improve my physical fitness one bit. And worst of all, we were forced to do them in front of our peers.
I think that middle school institutionalized self-objectification. It built us into observers of each other in our physical exertions. It was, of course, the ideal location in which one could observe those individuals to which he or she was attracted. And for me, it was pure hell.
Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoyed some aspects of gym. Swimming, for example. I was among the best in my class because I actually swam on the swim team. I have almost no fear when wearing swimsuits for this reason. Basketball, too. I loved it so much, I even went to basketball camps. I would’ve tried out for the team if my gym teacher hadn’t told me I couldn’t because I didn’t have a physical on file (although, she let five other girls on the team without physicals. I still to this day think I experienced sizeism that day for the first time). I also loved Shot Put. They tried to get me on the track team to do shot put, but I refused.
What I hated about gym, though, was the feeling of always being watched. They would shout out our times when we finished the mile. And everyone would sit around the finish line when you were done to cheer you on. Sometimes, if you took longer than 14 minutes, everyone else went inside, and you had to cross the finish line alone. We show up at the end, and the Mrs. Shaffner would be standing at the end, shaking her head, and ushering us quickly inside to change and move on to our next class. It was like we were something to be hushed up, something they were embarrassed by. It was my biggest failure back then. That effing mile run as my peers stood on the sidelines, watching me jog to the end, red-faced, and close to tears.
Now-a-days I go into a gym, and I feel exceptionally self conscious. My college requires five gym classes for graduation. I have two left. Right now, I’m taking a course called “Individual Fitness” which just requires me to do a weightlifting routine with cardio at least 3 times a week, and journal on two other health-related areas (I’ve chosen to do a food diary, and a time-management journal). The problem is that lately, I’ve felt like I’m constantly being judged and watched at the gym. Yes, this is normal to feel that way, but gosh is it hard to overcome.
I’ve been trying, lately, to channel it into a positive-attention, rather than ignore my paranoia. I know that people probably aren’t looking, but just in case they are, I try to focus myself on having the best workout ever. Like, having the best form when running. Or having the most control with my higher weight sets. I try to look like I know what I’m doing, and I try to do everything to the T.
Thus far, I think it’s a good thing. I know it’s not good to think like that, but I can’t get rid of it. I honestly think it’s left over from that middle school long ago. Maybe it’s because I feel like I have something to prove to everyone around me: the fat girl can lift weights, can actually jog on a treadmill, can bench press, and she can be damn confident when doing it. Maybe it’s just a projection of my own feelings of inadequacy. But for now, I’m just going to use it as therapy. It’s my time for me. It’s my time to expel those feelings of inadequacy, and it’s my time to banish my stupid middle-school nightmare to the depths. I’m activating. I’m motivating. And I am moving forward.
Sometimes I feel the seasons keenly, in my body and mind. Marked, not only, by the actual change of season, the falling of leaves, the cold air rushing in, but also in the changes in my routine: the end of summer, the beginning of a new school year, and the hecticness of my excessively busy life. In fall, it’s hard sometimes to remember the good things. Sometimes I get so caught up in the chaos, the falling of leaves, the cold, the stacks of books and papers awaiting my attention, that I have no time to think, no time for myself, and no time to remain still and focus on the good. Some weeks it’s harder than most. Some months it’s harder. This past month has brought the beginning of the end for me, the trees have changed colors, and I’ve begun to trudge forward into a winter I’m not prepared for.
Let me explain: I just started my senior year of College. It feels weird, stretched, hurried, hectic, and like it’s moving by at a snails pace. At the same time, I feel like I’m running out of time, running out of opportunities, running out of chances to make my mark and meet my goals. It’s throw me through a loop. Besides that, I’m so busy that I can’t figure things out. Some days I don’t even get back to my room to eat dinner until after 9PM, and then I’m so exhausted I can’t really just relax–I just have to move on to the next thing, whether it be sleep, homework, or even work.
It all feels like too much. And maybe, yes, I am over committed. Two jobs: I’m the head RA in my building (while all my friends are living in houses off campus, and are thus never around); and I’m TAing for a documentary class. Full course-load: one class is my Senior Thesis (AHHH!). On top of all that, I’m in various clubs, and I have friends; both important to my general existence.
All together, I’ve been too busy to really “live it up.” And because of all this stress, I’ve been down on myself a lot more than normal. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve always felt ugly. Every day. I haven’t had time to write, to breathe, to do anything that really feels good. I’ve just felt stressed, nervous, like I’m forgetting everything, losing track of time, and not finishing anything I’ve started.
But strangely, maybe even ironically, when reflecting on this past month, I feel more hopeful for the future, my future, than ever. Why? Because when I go through a particularly bad time, I learn about myself. And when the all that’s good part of the world comes back into focus, I remember how lucky I am. I have all these opportunities to be better than I am. I have all these chances. I’m going to graduate from college. I have two jobs, when some people are unemployed. I have family and friends who really love me. I have a mother who I can call or email in a panic, and who will respond with her calm and measured words, saying “it will be all right” and I can actually believe her.
And best of all, I have the ability to laugh. To find the humor in the worst situations. My mother told me last week that I’m the one she’d like to be with during a disaster. I like to laugh. I choose to laugh. And I have a knack to find those little moments of pure glee. The world around me may be falling apart (and most days, it feels like it is, more and more), but I am in a secure place, with people who care, and am surrounded by beautiful, funny, glorious things.
The winter cold has rejuvenated my body, my mind, and my attitude. It makes me feel the urge to run, to breathe so much of it, my throat becomes raw. It smells of campfire, of dew, of the tangy citrus cold. And it whispers of the coming of snow, of that blanket of pure whiteness to cover the ugly burnished grass, and industrial cement. I can feel it in the air, and I can’t wait for it. It is freshness. It is hope. And it is open to this world of infinite possibilities.
This is my new lease on life. I am remotivated, and I am, back. And I felt the need to share that.
Letting out the Jigglies