Insanity

I’m not quite fat, but I’m not skinny either. Several years ago, if you’d have used the term “big boned,” I probably would have socked you in the nose… but now, I actually use it for myself. This is how my brain changed:

The struggle with my weight and having body issues really started in high school, when I found myself close friends with some very petite people. Jody was around 5’2’’ and a size 2 (with perfect teeth and hair, she was, and is, gorgeous). Andria, around the same height as Jody, was the “big girl” in her house wearing a size zero (while her two sisters- one older and one younger- wore double zeros). She blamed it on her genetics; A could put away an entire package of double stuff oreos and never gain an ounce. I only wish I were exaggerating. At least I had Elie on my size (side? Ha). She was my height (tall for a girl at 5’9’’), and broad shouldered, but with a flat stomach and thin, toned legs. Even she had her mother’s German metabolism, though.

The cycle only perpetuated itself when I got to college at 17. My roommate and two other close friends swapped clothes and woes if they fluctuated between sizes 4 and 6, yet my roomy would still eat rice drenched in ranch dressing, followed by plates of curly fries and cake. I had salads without dressing, sandwiches without cheese or mayo, vegetables without salt or butter and saw no change in my size 10 self. It got the point where I was so hungry and depressed, that I felt the need to eat in secrecy.

I would go to the cafeteria between classes and get big sub sandwiches to go (thick cuts of bologna with double the cheese), and eat it behind the liberal arts building. I kept bags of chips and Swedish fish hidden in my room and I would only eat them if my roommate was gone to class. Soon, I had blown the Freshman 15 out of the water and descended into the very dark realm of the Freshman 40.

I knew my friends back home would question my weight gain, so I hid from them, making up excuses about why I couldn’t come home that weekend or why I was busy during special parties or birthdays. My abusive relationship with food and my body was causing me to shut down.

After the winter break, I decided to be a recluse. Even my journal entries reflected these wishes, writing about how I couldn’t wait to get back to school just so that I could hide away and have people think I was a loner. My life consisted of going to class and thinking about food constantly- when I was allowed to eat, what I was allowed to eat, how much I was allowed to eat- it was all a game to me. I’d spend hours in the gym followed by downing handfuls of Xenadrin and taking midnight runs in the woods because my heart was racing too much for me to sleep (looking back, it’s a wonder I wasn’t abducted).

This went on until I met my future husband in the fall of 2005. He helped me to feel beautiful no matter what my size was. Around him, I naturally lost about 20 pounds. We would go for walks and talk for hours (not intending on working out, we just wanted to spend time together). My body settled into a natural rhythm of balanced eating and regular exercise. After two and a half years, we were married. On my wedding day, I was the “smallest” I had been in my adult life (and even then I was a comfortable size 12, tight 10. Remember what I said about just being big boned?)

We had our baby about a year into our marriage. Ben just turned 2 and I’m still holding on to baby weight (making me the size I was when I was so unhappy). But my husband has never called me anything but beautiful… I’ve just had a harder time believing it.

 A few months ago that started to change when I became absolutely enamored with Crystal Renn… I saw THIS picture of her in a magazine and she owned her curves.

She looked so happy, confident, secure. Like no one (not men, other women, or her family) could get her down with offhanded comments about how many calories were in that ice cream. Through more research, I found that we were the exact same height (5’9”), weight (ha, not telling), and size (around 14). I even own that bathing suit in black. Knowing she was a super successful model made me think differently about myself, that maybe I had worth, that people didn’t think I was a disgusting cow.

More importantly, I didn’t think of myself as a disgusting cow anymore. I read her autobiography, ‘Hungry’ and actually wrote some of her words on post-it notes to keep on my bathroom mirror. To give a little history: she wanted to be a model so badly that she starved herself down to 98 pounds and STILL couldn’t get work because she was told she was too big. Subsisting on a diet of lettuce, sugar free gum, and 9-hour weekend workout sessions, she broke. After letting her body settle at its natural weight, she began booking gigs left and right. She was happy, healthy, and realized that everyone is beautiful when they’re at what she calls a “set weight” (where your body natural lays). I was hooked.   

A few weeks later, I saw some picture of her floating around on Facebook. She had recently been on the cover of Mexican Vogue… and was back down to a size 0.

Her hip bones jutted out, her collar bones sharp as razors. Her eyes looked dead and I felt betrayed. Hadn’t she just told me I was perfect the way I was? Did this mean she was lying and I really AM a disgusting cow?

The shot to my confidence was almost unbearable. I don’t want to say that some silly model made me lose my mind, but I retreated into a black hole of self pity. My poor husband… I don’t think he knew how to handle it.

It wasn’t until Crystal’s very own sister wrote me on Facebook (we connected through Crystal’s fan page) that I started to climb out of that funk. She commented on a few on my posts and let me know not to read too much into her book, that it was basically a publicity stunt to get noticed by designers, and to not let it break me.

Realizing I needed to take care of myself FOR ME was what started to change my mind. Don’t lose weight to look like someone else, don’t work out for hours on end (if that’s what you choose to do) for anyone but yourself, change your outlook FOR YOURSELF.

I’m starting the Insanity workout plan on Sunday. I’d like to lose the 40 or so pounds I’ve gained since High School because I’m tired of hiding behind myself. My self-worth doesn’t lie in the number on the scale, but doing this for myself is going to create a new love for my body, an appreciation for what it does and why it’s here. Lucky YOU for getting to read about my neuroses.