I was raised to feel lots of confusion over body image and weight. On one hand, I grew up thinking that if I gained weight or didn’t look just right, I would 1. Never get a boyfriend/husband or 2. My boyfriend/husband would leave me because I was no longer attractive. My parents divorced when I was in high school and once I heard that my father had said my mother was no longer attractive to him because she was over weight. My mother struggled with her body image as far back as I can remember – always dieting or trying a new exercise class, but she hated how much she weighed and even how tall she was. As a 5’11” woman in a world where she thought men wanted “cute and petite” girls, it was hard for her to feel pretty or sexy at all, but then when she started gaining weight after children, it was a downward spiral. My father, on the other hand, has been smallish from the start. He was is also 5’11” and has always been very active with playing tennis, running almost everyday, biking, swimming, whatever he can do to stay fit. It was his passion, obsession, even. He was very proud of his body.
So, on one side of the coin, I was sincerely sympathetic to my mother’s cause. I hated that she hated herself. I was always very careful to never mention or hint at anything around her that might hurt her feelings more than they have already been hurt. I was quite sensitized to the feelings, frustrations, and fragility of being overweight and trying to conquer it. For my dad, the answer was easy – just go out and exercise more. Everyone sees the world from a different perspective and has different things that drive them in everyday situations. For some people, like my dad, losing weight is easy, you just do it. When he was diagnosed with a health condition where his body does not process “good” fats properly and essentially all fats for him are bad, he just cut out fat. Done. The poor man now struggles with eating enough calories in sugar and protein to maintain his 4500 calorie/day (with his exercise habits) needs and he has to do that with FAT-FREE oreos and cheetos! He immediately dropped weight when he made this change and lost his “dad bod” belly.
On the other side of the coin, I’ve seen what media (movies/tv shows, etc) and my own family experiences tell me about men and how they perceive women: you need to be thin AND shapely AND endearing or you will not be desirable and will be left or, more likely, cheated on. I went through a really rough time when I was dating Tony where I lost all faith and trust in men and just knew that I was eventually GOING to be cheated on and hurt severely. That was, of course, centered around the divorce that my parents were going through and I eventually got over it, well, learned to deal with it better, but for awhile, I was pretty sure men were the worst. Yet, somehow, while blaming men for making me feel this way, I still felt this way and was still driven to stay cute and little and always be as engaging as possible. I exercised, I got depressed when I gained weight, I didn’t complain about it to anyone except Tony because I was not overweight and would be scoffed at, but I just knew that it was a slippery slope to Tony not loving me.
When I was in vet school, I gained about 20 lb and for the life of me, could not get it off. I lived on rice and beans, ran 3-10 miles or biked 30 miles a day, had air-popped popcorn and watermelon for dinner and could not drop a pound. At first I was convinced that it was all just muscle, but eventually, while pregnant with India and I reached 170 lb and the doctor said something to me about my weight, I knew it wasn’t just normal weight gain. I was crushed. I had tried for years to lose that 20 lbs and only seemed to be gaining (even before the pregnancy).
Eventually, I would be blessed with a revamped metabolism after breastfeeding coupled with a painful abdominal condition that doesn’t allow me to eat more than very small portions of food before feeling very uncomfortable to painful. Then, I was finally able to drop the weight and get back to a comfortable size for me. Yes, I’ve been to all the doctors, have had imaging done, had my gallbladder removed, and have been on every medicinal combination including natural remedies, and no, nothing helps. So, for the most part, my own body regulates my weight, but I do love to exercise or at least I love to be active and I love the feeling of being sore and tired.
What if we showed each other love and appreciation even if we all weren’t the magazine body type? What if when you saw someone who was out for a jog but was jogging slower than you could walk and instead laughing, we said “good job! You’re amazing!”? Yes, I can agree that being overweight can be unhealthy, but not all overweight people are unhealthy, and when was the last time telling someone they’re overweight helped? Let the medical professionals worry about their physical health. We should all worry about each other’s mental health. What if we just supported them and showed them the love every human deserves? If most people react to things like my husband, then telling them how you think they should change will only make them do the exact opposite (super fun in a marriage). Looking around, I’ve noticed that seemingly everyone has body image issues. So, it totally sucks that media makes women think that men only want a certain type of woman, but if you really ask honest men, you’ll find that different men like different types of women. Some men do NOT find thin, lanky women attractive, some love the softness of larger women. Same for women – no, we don’t all want to be able to complete a muscular anatomy exam on your body, some do, but we all have different things that make us tick. So, to single out one body type and make everyone else feel bad about themselves for things they cannot change – no, I will never have curvaceous hips (“birthing hips” – my mother in law warned me with my first pregnancy I would have trouble having babies – still pushed an 8.5lb baby out in less than an hour) with my body type. If I started gaining weight (even with doing 1000s of squats) I would simply take on the appearance of a candied apple.
Once my mom got away from all of that pressure and all of that loathing of her body, she found herself. She found activities that she loves. She walks or hikes almost everyday in the Rocky mountains and feels great about herself. I was thinking about this one time while I was running. I haven’t been able to just run 3-4 miles since I had Oscar. I found that my body and my mind do better when I run a “warm up” mile, then sprint/walk/jog the rest of the way as feels best for my body – when I can no longer breathe, I walk; when I catch my breathe, I run again. But it’s not a normal way to run. Sometimes I will skip or walk with lunges, or walk backwards or sideways, or dance or strut to the song in my earbuds, but I always have to make sure no one is looking. Why? God forbid someone sees me doing something that’s not seen as “normal” exercise. But, what if we were all in support of any activity, no matter how weird it looks to us? People wouldn’t be afraid to go out and find something they love that could also be considered exercise. Want to bear crawl across your lawn? Great! Good for the shoulders. Like to belly dance to Led Zepplin? Power to you!
I will never be able to shake the idea I got when I was 15 years old, studying the Victoria’s Secret catalogs, that this was how I was supposed to look. I didn’t yet know how I would go about adding 2-3 lumbar vertebra to my spine or develop D cup breasts and grow a second length of femur, or, most importantly, develop those perfect faces (though Tony says most of them look mad), but I knew that’s what I had to look like or I would never be loved. Yet, here I am; 35 years old, three kids later, scars up and down my belly, an umbilical hernia from the pregnancies, abdominal muscles that will never line up again, boobs that sag with age and three episodes of demanding nursing babies pulling on them while they summersault, a face that is tired, worn and pretty much needs make-up to be seen in public, but Tony doesn’t see all that. And none of that affects the way I see other people. You are beautiful.
