The Good Kind Of Loss
I've been "detoxing" for about a month now. I refuse to use the word "d13t" with all its horrible connotations of self obession and self denial and the powerful influences of "Society" and Size Zero models (size 0? It even sounds horrible, like you're trying to negate yourself, erase your body). However, last month, just before my period, I found my scales touching 15 Stone.* 15 Stone! That's what my mum weighs! I'm tall, so it doesn't look it, but my BMI rose out of the merely overweight zone, and into medically obese.
I started to think quite hard about weight and self image. Although I was mostly the proverbial Fat Girl since I was a child, my body size has been very much a mirror of how I feel about myself. Overweight and underweight have both been expressions of mental distress. It's not a coincidence that I dropped to the lowest I've ever been - 10 Stone - after a traumatic series of events. Nor is my current weight a coincidence. I can whinge about stress and the changing habits of a deskbound job, but the truth is, it was a decision to no longer care about my appearnce.
A reaction to rejection. When I was the thin, blonde girl, everyone wanted my arse, but no one seemed to give a shit what was going on in my head, in my emotions. Put on weight, and goddammit, people - especially men - are going to *HAVE* to accept the real me, the mental me, if they want to be with me. I put the weight on to keep men at arms' (or belly's) length. And god damn, YEAH, it worked.
But this last heartbreak made me realise, it's time to take the Bear Suit off. You can't go around whinging about how shallow men are. (Especially when I'm just as shallow - after all, I expect the men I'm attracted to to look a certain way.) Who's going to love you if you don't love yourself? Oh wait, that's not neccessarily true. Boyfriends didn't *care* how much I hated my *self* when I had a good figure, so long as I didn't hate my *body*.
It's not a d13t, it's a complete about face in lifestyle, permanently. Cut out refined sugar and fats, cut down bouze (I don't even drink that much any more, but it's more about cutting out that relaxing weeknight glass of wine with dinner) and chocolate (only high quality, high cocoa content, when you have it). Powerwalk for half an hour every morning, rain or shine. Never take the bus for short distances when you can walk.
I'm resorting to bribery. I promised myself a new pair of boots when I hit 14st. At 13 and a half stone, a new Liberty print shirt. And at 13 stone, jodhpurs and riding lessons.
And in just over three weeks, the bottom of the scale now touches just under 14 stone, and the top touches 14st 4lbs. My trousers don't pinch. Belts have gone in another notch. Well done me!
Get yourself one new pair of boots! But which do I want? Clarks hippie brown suede boots, or Jones sleek, elegant Chelsea Boots? The choice is mine.
*OK, my scales are weird, as they are very ancient, inherited from my ex mother-in-law. Depending on how you stand on them, there can be a difference of nearly half a stone. The higher of the readings hit 15 Stone, the lower was still 14 and a half.