diet…di-et…ever noticed that the word ‘die’ is right there? i have. many times i’ve stared at this word. maybe because it occurred to me one day, but something deeper is rooted in this word for me. & because there came a day when i didn’t want to die-t anymore; let’s just say addictions “die” hard.
guilty as sin times 10. but this word is part of my life, my childhood. & although this isn’t a slanderous jab at my mother in any way (swear to all that is holy), she has a lot to do with this fascination, nay infatuation.
as long as can remember, my mother dieted. grapefruit, cabbage, slim fast…did you buy the meals at the jenny craig or weight watchers store fronts back in the day? hell, who cares. if there was a fad or systematic weight loss gimmick, she was there. (let’s go ahead & factor in the fact that i never knew my mother to be over a size 6 pants at 5”2’ for virtually my entire adolescent life!) my cute little petite mom, who was so striking (still to this day) with flawless skin. always tan (naturally)…always getting attention from everyone; never feeling comfortable in her own skin. yoga, aerobics/cardio…so you have a gym membership you want to sell? she was your gal.
and i always wanted to be like her, so as she was constantly obsessing about her weight, looks, the perfect make-up…something rubbed off. am I delusional? am i the only little girl who felt this way? of course, i want her to be the best her, but at what cost of normalcy? she didn’t have the best possible life, my mom. no one ever wanted her to be the prettiest or most successful during her childhood. but that need was under her surface. acceptance, love? something. & does that trickle down from parent to child? yes, yes it does.
having been skinny, even scrawny, as a kid, i was used to names like “chicken legs,” “boney butt,” or my favorite “ashley turkey.” (maiden name tucker…kids are so clever!) but no biggie, because i was a natural born dork in school & was the first to make fun of myself…better laugh with than at. (that was the idea, anyways.)
then it happened…adolescence…duhn-duhn-duhnnnn! legs & arms still sticks, no heiny or hips, but mother nature is hilarious, so my boobs went from in-training to teaching class, overnight. seriously! & also, i had this, what was referred to as a, “pooch” belly. which, of course, i look back now & shake my head. (cause i totally didn’t.) but, i remember at a school dance in 9th grade, i wore this empire waist babydoll dress & this guy was all “are you pregnant? hahaha…” & yes, i remember his name & no, i’ll never tell.
first of all, no matter what size a child/teenager/young person is, don’t ever nitpick, people. criticisms & comments, especially about the body, are not taken lightly. for me, i felt like i was some oddity. after a while, the bad stuff is so much easier to believe than the good & poof, the freaking damage is done!
i would hear weight & diet talk at home & then, the social awareness would be all over the place. welcome to high school. just a few suggestions from friend to friend…
cigarettes will curb one’s appetite, that’s how so & so’s mom keeps thin. saltine crackers & water have like, no calories. chew food slowly…to fill up faster. diet pills are awesome. plus, if you drink diet soda, you can have all this energy & being hyper is so fun! if you feel really full & guilty, you can just throw up! use your finger or a toothbrush. (ever so nonchalantly!) this helps when people monitor your eating, too. people are so nosy!
so, unfortunately, i have tried all these “great” ways to lose some pounds. sad, ain’t it?! i mean, it’s never sounded as crazy to me as it does right at this moment! & the truly sick thing is that most of this advice would follow me into adulthood.
my weight has always yo-yo’d. i was actually healthy (mind & body) when i graduated in 1995 from high school. by college, i felt chunky again. freshman 15? when i would marry the hubs in 1999, i would weigh a whopping 103 pounds at 5’7”. then, slowly climb from a size 1/2 to 3/4 & eventually an 8 when I got pregnant in 2004. with monkey, i would gain 65 pounds. (which i was totally fine with until my baby weighed 8 pounds & not the 35 that i was banking on.)
that’s just how it is with me, with everyone right?! someone please be nodding your head 'yes' out there! i do know that i eat as good as i can, i don’t obsess over calories anymore, i am slowly getting back into exercise after a stretch of time moping about knee pain & missing roller derby, & i do still smoke (which is not good…i read that somewhere). for me, food is not necessarily my addiction. i think it’s still in my head to be a certain size. & then there’s that little number on my pants. i have cut most of those “little” numbers out, so that i don’t see a size at all. & i know that some will say “she’s not even big or fat. what is her problem?” i think weight affects a lot of people! whether you’ve always been small or big or whatever. it’s not even about that, really. my issue is with how i feel when i look in the mirror…my happiness with myself. being comfortable in my own skin; like mother, like daughter. i still hear about diets & little digs at weight gain/loss, but i am older now & can block it out much better. (now, it's just annoying!)
so, there it is...my dirty little secret out on the laundry line to air. road to mental recovery? in the meantime, i stumbled upon this awesome quote by henry david thoreau:
“…be yourself-not your idea of what you think somebody else’s idea of yourself should be.”
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