Plants First, Fish Next

The original intent of this journal was to chronicle the trials and tribulations of the struggling twenty-something, as I searched for love and happiness in the small city-burb of ManchVegas, NH. Now, I'm thirty-something, I've found love in many forms, happiness in even more, and now the struggle is just... well... life. And finding time to do the million and one things I want to do- including writing.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Body Con

One side effect of all this running and hockey playing and trapezing (next class is Saturday, wOOt!!) is that I've lost about 15 lbs and 2 or 3 sizes. Which, well, good, I guess. But I can't say it ever really mattered.

I'm of the body acceptance camp. You have your body, and there's a limited amount of things you can do to control how it looks. Western society holds up unrealistic images of beauty for women (and even some for men, but obviously it's more prevalent for women). I spent most of my life hating the way I looked - my nose, my feet, my hands, my "Buddah Belly" (thanks for that quaint nick-name, family). I never believed it when someone told me I looked nice or good or even cute. NEVER. That's a lot of stress on a girl! I went through the phases - deciding not to give a crap and eat whatever I wanted, which just made me fatter, then deciding to give a crap and work out like a mo fo and got skinnier, but none of it made me HAPPIER. Not until I decided to accept my shape, no matter what it was.

I also don't believe that fat people are inherently lazy. It's the most socially acceptable form of prejudice to dislike or mock people who are heavy. Hell, I've been guilty of it (though mostly I mock what people are WEARING, not their size - taste is ALWAYS mockable). Now that I'm getting more and more into sports and running, etc, the media that I'm looking at denounces fat. Well, fuck you. Some people enjoy life in different ways. Also, go to any race, even the VT50 - there were people there that I would NEVER expect to be runners based on their size. But they ran - muddy trails in back woods for more miles than most people walk in a month. Are they lazy? No.

So, yes, I work out. I run. I play sports. But it's not to be "skinny." Part of the freedom of body acceptance is accepting that your choices have consequences. I made a choice that I would make myself happy, no matter what that meant at a given time. Sometimes it makes me happy to play hockey for 2 hours, so I do. The consequence of that choice can mean sore muscles and bruising over 60% of my body as well as serious caloric burn. Sometimes it makes me happy to eat nachos and drink margaritas, (ok, most of the time it makes me happy to eat nachos and drink margaritas) and the consequence of this choice is a fully belly but also experiences with friends and loved ones that deepen my relationship with them.

So, if you see me and say, "Gosh, Leeapeea, you're so thin!" and I give you a weird look and a questionable, "Thanks," let's go ahead and move on to another topic, m'k? Maybe order a plate of nachos and a couple of margs... ;-)

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