Why this won't become a "Weight Loss Blog" ever again
I was reading through my usual list of bloggers today when I came upon something so appalling that I actually deleted that person from my Favorites. I'm not going to go into the specifics or call this person out (please, not the drama), but what I read illustrates why I've been (and continue to be) reluctant to get back into the weight loss game here. (Or anywhere for that matter.)
This blogger is so obsessed with weight loss and the scale/size of clothes (as opposed to a lifetime commitment to eating better and moving more) that they couldn't muster empathy for a friend who is struggling to lose weight in order to treat a life threatening illness. Seriously? The size of your body is more important than a friend facing the options of: 1. Dying, or, 2. Completely changing their life forever? Wow. Selfish much?
Of course, if I'm honest, that's how I was three years ago during the heyday of this journal when I was losing weight, exercising consistently, and constantly buying new clothes because I had to. I wasn't thinking about nurturing my body, much less my soul and I was cocooned in my own little world because that was the only way to maintain the obsession. Going out to lunch with friends? Heck, no...how would I know how many calories I'd consumed? Happy Hour? Omigosh, I'd have to skip my evening ritual of an hour long walk (fast!) followed by a carefully weighed and measured meal then meditation before bed. Having a boyfriend was almost more of a commitment than I could manage because, again, the routine would be "messed up".
For better or worse, meeting Alcott and TCB changed me - and this journal - forever. They forced me out of myself and shattered the routine completely. There's no way to be self-obsessed and nurturing of others at the same time...they're mutually exclusive. And loving them has brought me closer to loving myself than I've ever been simply because they are fabulous and the most important things in the world and THEY love me. If I'm that important to them, I need to be important to myself, too.
So I want to improve my health. I want to eat better (because I eat terribly and also compulsively). I want to move my body in ways that I enjoy. (No stop watches, no pacing, no "you must exercise at this intensity for this long, just going for a walk or taking a water exercise class or maybe even riding bikes with TCB when he comes home. Maybe going ice skating with TCB, but only when there's no one around to see me fall on my backside. Over and over.) I want to manage my stress so that my life is happier and I have more energy and desire to do things with TCB and Alcott and all of my other friends. The word "heal" is part of health and I don't think that's a coincidence. I want to heal myself and my life, and part of that is shedding any sort of obsession with the size of my body.
And I never, EVER want to be someone who would see someone else's tragedy through the lens of my own selfishness and turn away from them when they needed me most. No size 8 dress is worth that.
This blogger is so obsessed with weight loss and the scale/size of clothes (as opposed to a lifetime commitment to eating better and moving more) that they couldn't muster empathy for a friend who is struggling to lose weight in order to treat a life threatening illness. Seriously? The size of your body is more important than a friend facing the options of: 1. Dying, or, 2. Completely changing their life forever? Wow. Selfish much?
Of course, if I'm honest, that's how I was three years ago during the heyday of this journal when I was losing weight, exercising consistently, and constantly buying new clothes because I had to. I wasn't thinking about nurturing my body, much less my soul and I was cocooned in my own little world because that was the only way to maintain the obsession. Going out to lunch with friends? Heck, no...how would I know how many calories I'd consumed? Happy Hour? Omigosh, I'd have to skip my evening ritual of an hour long walk (fast!) followed by a carefully weighed and measured meal then meditation before bed. Having a boyfriend was almost more of a commitment than I could manage because, again, the routine would be "messed up".
For better or worse, meeting Alcott and TCB changed me - and this journal - forever. They forced me out of myself and shattered the routine completely. There's no way to be self-obsessed and nurturing of others at the same time...they're mutually exclusive. And loving them has brought me closer to loving myself than I've ever been simply because they are fabulous and the most important things in the world and THEY love me. If I'm that important to them, I need to be important to myself, too.
So I want to improve my health. I want to eat better (because I eat terribly and also compulsively). I want to move my body in ways that I enjoy. (No stop watches, no pacing, no "you must exercise at this intensity for this long, just going for a walk or taking a water exercise class or maybe even riding bikes with TCB when he comes home. Maybe going ice skating with TCB, but only when there's no one around to see me fall on my backside. Over and over.) I want to manage my stress so that my life is happier and I have more energy and desire to do things with TCB and Alcott and all of my other friends. The word "heal" is part of health and I don't think that's a coincidence. I want to heal myself and my life, and part of that is shedding any sort of obsession with the size of my body.
And I never, EVER want to be someone who would see someone else's tragedy through the lens of my own selfishness and turn away from them when they needed me most. No size 8 dress is worth that.
Comments
That behavior is fucking disgusting. I actually have pulled myself more and more out of even reading weight loss blogs (you know, the ones that are exclusively obsessed with it) for something similar.
Good for you for this post!