Fat & Happy: My Reality

My grandma always used to say “Be fat and be happy!”

I don’t know if she truly believed that sentiment, but as a kid, I thought it was perfect.

However, things changed. I got older. I got different messages. I changed my outlook.

For a long time now, I’ve been trying to reconcile the ideas in my head and the feelings in my heart with the message I’ve received from the world for my entire life.

Head says, “You’re healthy. All your tests come out fine. No doctor has ever told you you’ll die if you don’t lose weight. So what does it matter? Also, have you looked at how expensive those diet programs are? Those peeps are bajillionaires so of course they’re going to tell you that your weight is a problem. Just go your own way, you’re totes fine.”

Heart says, “Yeah, what’s it to anybody else how you look? You’re beautiful, baby! Your curves are part of who you are! Why hate on yourself because you can’t maintain a supermodel body? Most of which are photoshopped anydangway? Have a donut, it’s okay.”

The world says, “Nope. Being fat is deadly, you are obese, you are lazy, you are incapable of restraining yourself from eating all kinds of foods that will obviously kill you. OH BUT here, buy some more of it because guess what it’s actually heart healthy, you know! Now hang on, don’t eat so much of that, here buy this book and this exercise program and this gym membership, that should help you, you ugly cow.”

Then my head starts saying, “Wait, what… I’m an ugly cow?? Oh my god, I’m an ugly cow, what is wrong with me, I’m the laziest and the fattest and no one will ever love me or find me attractive.”

Then the heart chimes in with, “OH GOD I FEEL BAD NOW WHERE ARE THOSE COOKIES.”

I used to care a lot about my weight because of that message from society, but lately, I’ve been really questioning it. I don’t feel unhealthy. I feel fine, physically.

 

A year ago, my doctor told me I had high cholesterol. My previous doctor had told me the same thing and she told me it was likely genetics that caused it. When my current doctor told me, my immediate response was, “Yeah, I know I need to lose weight.”

You know what she said?

She said, “Oh, it might not have anything to do with your weight.”

And guess what? It didn’t.

For the next year, I figured out what I needed to do to eat healthier. I stopped eating as much fast food. I started cooking a lot of something healthy on Sunday so I could freeze it for the whole next week or even two. My cholesterol? It went down by twenty points. (That’s a lot. My doc was impressed.) My weight? It stayed the same.

I did not lose a pound. And yet, my cholesterol (and other things that might’ve been creeping up) went down and I was healthier. So why does everybody say being fat is bad for you?

It’s either because that’s what they’ve been (falsely) taught or making other people believe being fat is bad for you is the source of their income.

Food companies? Full of shit. Don’t believe a thing those fools tell you. They pay butt loads of money to be able to say their product is “heart healthy” or whatever. They give out awards to themselves. (It’s like Kraft giving their cheese the “Healthiest Cheese” award. Kraft cheese: the Healthiest Cheese according to Kraft! I’m not making this shit up.)

SO.

Here’s the deal, my peeps. The reality is that being fat is not unhealthy. Need you more evidence? Are you wondering where I’m getting this info from? Aside from my own personal experience with cholesterol, that is?

Read this book. It has been blowing my mind. This lady is all about the science, guys. She’s done studies, she’s studied studies, and she’s got like ten Ph.D.s. My therapist recommended it to me and I’m freaking out about it.

So if being fat is not bad for you, the only reason you have left to try losing weight is that you’re concerned about how you look.

Let me lay it out for you like this (and I know I’ve written it this way somewhere before… my old blog, maybe? I don’t remember):

A supermodel chooses to be a supermodel, in most cases. It is their job. It is their livelihood. They spend their job maintaining their supermodel body. Those eight hours you’re hanging out in a cubicle? They’re doing whatever it is supermodels have to do to stay at their tiny size. And then probably the rest of the twenty-four hours on top of that.

You know who else does this kind of thing? Elton John. I mean, all musicians, but I’m just using him as an example. Now, I don’t know Elton, but my guess is that he spends quite a lot of time at the piano. He plays and he plays and he plays that’s what makes him so amazingly good at it. The time and work a supermodel puts into looking like a supermodel, Elton John puts into sounding like an amazing musician.

Do you expect yourself to be able to play the piano like Elton John while still maintaining a full-time job and living your normal day to day life? Of course not. If you could do that, you’d be some kind of super genius or something.

So why in the world would you expect yourself to have a supermodel body (or anything even close to it) under the same circumstances?

IT MAKES NO DANG SENSE.

And seriously, all those people who are like, oh man I only date supermodels because I’m clearly super gorgeous myself la la la YEAH WHATEVER FOOL.

That person is in dreamland. NOBODY IS PERFECT. WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT. WE ARE ALL DIVERSE. AND WE ALL HAVE SOMETHING TO BRING INTO AND ADD TO THIS WORLD, NO MATTER WHAT WE LOOK LIKE, WHERE WE CAME FROM, OR WHAT HORRIBLE THINGS HAVE HAPPENED IN OUR PAST.

Why do you want to contribute to the fat shaming of our society by forcing yourself to conform to it? By trying to be thin when you’re just not built to be thin? By doing diets that are more harmful and actually cause you to gain more weight in the long run? By doing exercise you hate even though there is no scientific evidence that it promotes weight loss?

I’m not subscribing to that guilt trip anymore. According to our health industry (which is bought out by the big corporations, by the way, and unfortunately can’t be trusted most of the time), I’m considered obese. Fuck that.

You wanna know what I think? I think I’m beautiful. I think I’ve got a round belly and soft thighs and man I am like a freakin’ pillow. Cuddling with me is like cuddling with a cloud ’cause I’m just that soft and squishy. I’m also a creative, loving person who will giggle with anybody about unicorns and enjoy every ounce of coffee, chocolate, and french fries I consume. I don’t hate people who have issues with their body. I want to embrace them. I want to tell them that it’s okay. I want to tell them that they are wonderful just as they are. That they are not unhealthy and there is proof of that. That they are more likely to die in a car accident than by being “overweight”. And this includes everybody. I love all of you, each and every one. Whether you’re fat or skinny or somewhere in between. Whether you hate yourself or love yourself. You deserve happiness. Don’t let the lies convince you that you aren’t good enough.  You are. You’re good enough for me, at the very least. And if you look at those who love you, you’ll find they think you’re more than good enough for them. Love each other, yes? Love each other, love yourself.

Be fat and be happy.

[[DISCLAIMER: Once again, most of my info comes from the book Health At Every Size, as linked above. The author goes into A LOT of science and more detail. She discusses the role of money in the food industry, government health regulations, and the agricultural industry (which gave us the food pyramid). She also goes into the impact of weight on actual health, including various diseases normally attributed to weight gain. If anything I said above piques your interest (even if it’s that you disagree), I highly recommend checking out the book. You can also ask me and I will happily quote the book at you all day. I claim none of this info as my own except for my experience with cholesterol, the things my own doctors have said, and all that stuff which is obviously my opinion and anger at the entire situation.]]

 

Why I Can’t Write

Okay people. I’m about to get really real with y’all. So be prepared for that, I guess.

It’s been a month since I wrote my Crazy Town Update post. Since this post is slightly related, let me tell you what ended up happening on the medication front. Basically, I switched meds. So far, I have not had a bad reaction, but I never fully stopped taking anything. I replaced citalopram with escitalopram. I know, I know. But they don’t do the same thing. The citalopram was treating something I no longer deal with and the escitalopram is basically the citalopram equivalent for what I am dealing with. It’s like if your cold turned into bronchitis. You would start out taking whatever to treat cold symptoms, but eventually you’d have to switch to something that could treat bronchitis symptoms. 

Anyway, I wanted to write about why I’m not writing. This isn’t entirely true, since obviously I can still write some stuff. The thing is that I never seem to be able to finish anything beyond poetry and blog posts – this has been happening for years. Lately, however, I’m having a hard time doing writing of any kind. I’m really forcing myself to do this because sometimes that’s what you have to do.

It has taken me a long time to discover why this has been happening for so long.

Back in July, I wrote a post about failing. You can read it here if you so desire. I talk a lot about discovery writing and how I was using it as an excuse. I talk about how afraid I am that whatever I write is going to be awful.

I still feel that way and I doubt I will ever stop feeling that way. I’ve also recently discovered that I’m just as afraid of success as I am of failure. Yeah, I’m a mess.

These things might be good explanations for why I’m stuck, but there’s more to it than just these surface fears.

The real question is why?

To overcome fear, you have to face it. In this case, it sounds like I need to just write and that will be facing my fear. Not so. What I need to do is go inside, to my inner feelings mausoleum where I bury all the junk I don’t want to think about, open the tomb, take everything out, and hold it in my hands, my heart, and my mind.

Why are you afraid?

Why do you believe you aren’t good enough?

Why do you think you’re unworthy?

I think these questions plague many people. And the truth about creativity is that it is fueled by emotion. If you’re like me and you bury feelings away, you’ll soon find that you bury all of the feelings. And when all your feelings are buried or chained up or hidden or lost – you can’t call on them for creativity.

And that’s why I can’t write. This is why I haven’t been able to truly put all I have into my writing. I don’t allow myself access to all I have. I allow myself access to just enough to get through my days.

The reality of life is that while our society generally prefers people to “put on a happy face”, that advice is total bullshit. You’ll be miserable forever if you pretend that you’re not miserable.

What is the true key to happiness? It’s two fold. The first part is realizing that it’s actually impossible to be happy all the time. That’s not how life works. By living, by putting yourself out there, you are committing yourself to both happiness and pain. That’s what risk is. If you never take a risk, you will never experience either of those things. They come together. The second part is acceptance. You can’t just take the happiness and leave the pain. Embrace the truth of how you feel. Do you feel sad? Worried? Angry? Upset? You want to cry? Eat all the chocolate? Stuff it down with alcohol? No. Don’t stuff it down. Let it out. Talk about it. Be honest with yourself. Say, yes I’m hurting. And it’s okay! 

It is okay to feel ANY feeling. Sadness, anger, defeat, failure, depression, frustration, fear, lonliness. IT IS OKAY.

Never let anyone tell you your feelings don’t matter. Never let anyone tell you to “suck it up”. Never let anyone tell you that you need to hide your emotions.

If you do that, you will never be able to set those feelings free. Instead they’ll sit inside you and fester. They will mutate into monsters. And then you’ll have a lot more shit to deal with.

If you can’t talk to someone – at least be honest about your feelings with yourself. And be gentle with yourself. You are doing the best that you can, even if it feels like you aren’t.

I would like to say here that I am learning a lot of these ideas from Brene Brown and I highly recommend her books Rising Strong and Daring Greatly.

In conclusion, I’m learning how to be honest with myself about my feelings. I’m learning how to access them again. And while it’s rough going sometimes, it’s also a relief to finally let them out. I have a feeling it won’t be long before I’m writing again.

I’m learning to say: I am enough.

And so are you. Know that you are loved and know that no matter what you are enough.