So, I'm in that weird group of people who has both been overweight and underweight in their life. In a matter of about 5-ish years actually. So, here's how it went down:
When I was about 9, I moved from China to the United States. Now for a little cultural lesson, in China, it is seen as a good thing for a person to be a bit chubby, since it means that you are well fed. So it's actually pretty attractive. Not being obese or anything but a little bit of chub. And that's exactly what I was. I wasn't obese by any means but I was a bit overweight. And I have always been short which doesn't help (you look even chubbier). So, when I moved to the US, kids immediately teased me for being "fat." To my advantage, I was deaf and most kids didn't know sign language. So if someone said something mean, I didn't hear. Unfortunately, this resulted in many paper ball notes being thrown at me and a kid pushing my lunch tray off of the table in middle school. Eventually, I decided that since I already didn't fit in, it wouldn't be a bad thing to lose some weight. I had started gaining a bit more during puberty (as all girls do) and became more insecure about it so it felt like a good thing to do. I still wasn't obese and my doctor wasn't really concerned, but it was more of a self-worth thing. So, since I didn't have a firm grasp of diets and how they worked, I knew two basic concepts about losing weight:
1) more calories out than in
2) what you eat DOES matter
Now technically, both of those things are true, but there's more to it. And I'd say those other details are the differences between losing weight healthily and through disordered eating. Around this time, I was probably about 12-13ish? Anyways, at that point I was desperate to shave off at least a few pounds. I knew my parents wouldn't be fond of the idea, so I kept it to myself (they were still in the Chinese mindset of weight and beauty...still are, actually). So, I decided to eat a little bit less during meals, eat more "healthy" foods than not, and go on a walk every other day. And at the end of about 2 weeks, I had lost 3 pounds. I was so happy, but it didn't seem like enough. So I ate less and walked more and eventually it got out of control. The losses were never enough and eventually I only at 300 calories a day. If I ever went over that, I would purge and then go on a walk. All of this went on for about 4 years until I was 16. At this point, I was unhealthily thin and was acting out a lot so my mom took me to the doctor. The doctor started asking me questions about my eating and I eventually just broke down and told him everything. He was very nice and tried to calm me down and cheer me up, telling me that it would get better. He diagnosed me with anorexia and started treatment immediately. About 2 weeks later, I was also diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I'll talk about that in another rant though.
Anyways, I started treatment where every meal was supervised and I had a medically planned out diet for each day and was pulled out of school for a semester. I also had to visit the doctor and a therapist once a week each. Needless to say, it was fucking miserable. I felt awful as I started gaining weight back and felt very betrayed by my mom for making me eat. Obviously, a pretty stupid thing to get upset about but not at the time. But after a couple years of the plan, which got less intense as time went on, I was actually feeling a lot better with it. I was a healthy weight again (although I am more on the slim side now) and I felt better about myself overall. My mind had turned into a calculator as a result of my disorder. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. All I could think about was numbers. Calories in, calories out, how many pounds I was, how many I wanted to lose, how long I was going to exercise, etc. Now only thinking about numbers in math class is fine, but in life...it's a depressing existence. But that calculator had finally stopped at that point and I didn't see food as my enemy. I had begun to accept my body finally and to celebrate one day, I decided to drive out to a lake that nobody went to and went skinny dipping. It was a liberating kind of moment. I was also 18 and it's common knowledge that 18 year olds are fucking crazy, so...therapeutic skinny dipping. XD
Now, I'm 23 and I'm doing better than ever. I'm still at a healthy weight and fucking love food. I mean, have you tasted pizza? XD
But I'd say if there's anything to take away from this little anecdote, it's this:
If you are obese or your weight is negatively affecting your health, you should lose the weight. I can assure you that you're not doing yourself any favors by just accepting it and never doing anything about it. It may sound mean, but I don't want to see anyone die earlier because they didn't see that they were unhealthy. It's the same with any other medical condition.
HOWEVER, if you are maybe a bit chubby or something and people give you shit, fuck them (not literally, that seems like a bad way of getting your point across). But yeah, as long as you are still healthy, it's not worth letting what others think shape how you live your life. And if someone has a problem with something as superficial as being a bit chubby, then tell them to go fuck themselves because I doubt anyone else is going to with that ugly personality. Your personality shows who you are much more than how you look ever will. That doesn't just go for weight, but also those with scars, birthmarks, a birth deformity, or anything else. Just...you do you. I feel like as cheesy as it is, that's what most of this comes down to.
So, here is rant #1 of the book where Jules thinks her opinions and stories are the shit. More to come. So...
Until next time... ;)
