Normally
I try to write calm and rational posts, but today I need to use my
soap box and get something off my chest.
Glorifying
obesity is not a thing!
I have gained a good thirty pounds in the last year and am at the heaviest I've been in years. While I do look down and wish I didn't see so much stomach protruding, I'm pretty content with my body right now. I still feel cute or sexy when I dress up. I smile when my preschoolers tell me they like to snuggle my squishy belly. Babies fit perfectly against the curve of my chest and often fall asleep when nestled there.
I am not, however delusional. When my children ask if I have a baby in my belly, I tell them Ms. Jen just really like junk food and doesn't exercise enough. They know that my life choices have had an influence on my body. Though these things are no worse than how a majority of the world lives their life, I'm judged because my body type is affected more than some. I have to work harder than is commonly considered “healthy living” to lose weight so when I'm tired or depressed or just plain busy, health falls to the wayside. In our society, being fat is treated as a crime. Being comfortable in my own skin means I'm showing easily influenced people that this is a good life choice. In the long run, its not.
I have joint pain.
I'm
easily winded.
I
often have sugar crashes because I rely on coffee or candy bars for
energy boosts.
I
stay up too late and pay for it the next day.
This does not mean I don't have the right to be happy and content! It also does not mean that when I am being healthy that I look the way society thinks I should. Guess what, when I exercise regularly and eat whole and organic foods...I'M STILL FAT. I'm just a little less fat. I encourage healthy choices in my classroom, choosing their fruit instead of fruit snacks and telling them to go run instead of watching their friends do so. I want my students to grow healthy and strong, but I also want them to understand that all bodies are not created equal.
I also want them to know that it's okay to be unhealthy too if that's the choice they make. What matters to me, is that they let themselves live a happy life. Don't let anything stand in your way, least of all people who shame you for the size pants you wear while they lead the exact same lifestyle and just happen to wear a size two.
J.K. Rowling said it best:
“Fat’
is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she
wants to hurt her.
I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…
I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’
‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’
What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!
I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.”
I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…
I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’
‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’
What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!
I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.”
Be
independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, or
funny. Be fat or thin or tall or short. Be happy. Be YOU.
