Body Image

In elementary school, I had a classmate named Jessica Sachse. It was hard to have a conversation with her and not think about her physical disability, despite the fact that she is a very intelligent person with many artistic interests similar to my own.

I have not talked to Jes since high school, but a couple of years ago I read an article about her in The Star called This Isn't an American Apparel Ad. She posed for a series of ads that ran on TTC monitors to "challenge conventional notions of sexiness."

I discovered Jes has also posed naked as a way to explore herself and see what everyone is looking at when they stare at her. She has a very insightful short video called Body Image posted here (or with an analysis posted here) that explains her thoughts and feelings on her disfigured body.


What follows may sound like a lesson that is learned in an after-school special, and I don't want to come off as preachy, but in truth it is important to sometimes step back and think about where your thoughts and feelings come from when assessing your own body.

Especially when we are dieting and exercising and trying to improve ourselves as much as possible, we (or at least I do) can fall into the mentality of "no matter how hard I work I am never sexy enough, can never get my body to match the ideal in my head". But we have to remember that almost all of our ideals come from current popular culture's unattainable idea that beauty is a godly standard of perfection.

The point of dieting and exercising is to be healthy, fit, and happy, to feel good about yourself according to your own standards. It is not about trying to win a beauty contest.

Imagine how you would feel if your body was too different to even compete with conventional ideas of beauty. Then what would you think of yourself? Where would your self-confidence come from? Like Jes, I'm sure we would focus a lot more on intellectual pursuits and think of our body as simply a vehicle to get our mind from one life experience to another.

I'll admit, I'm glad I'm attractive and that other people think so. Life is easier when you visually fit in to the accepted norm and people treat you nicely because of it. But being glad you're beautiful and being obsessed with being seen as beautiful are two different things. It's helpful to be reminded by people like Jes where the boundary is and which mentality will actually make you happy.

Cleanse Day 2

Morning weigh-in: 134 lbs
Bedtime weigh-in: 132 lbs

The cleanse is working!

Kinda.

I am not experiencing the cleanse in the way I thought that I would.  No purging.  No emergency bathroom trips.  Nada.

I am experiencing hunger.  And grumpiness.  Oh the great grumpiness.

I love my children but they are making me crazy!!!!! I'm sure that it's not their fault.  It can't be.  Unless they have been swapped for mischievous doppelgangers.  It must be the cleanse.

I am so ready to be done.  I miss salt.  More than caffeine.  More than alcohol.  More than fat or protein or sugar. Oh salt, you are my best friend.  You are my hero. You make all food better!  Come baaaaaack!!!

I had an accidental nap this afternoon.  Cleansing is exhausting.

Two down, one to go!

Cleanse Day 1 (and a weigh-in)

Monday's weight: 135 (WHAT THE F**K OFF?!?!?)
Tuesday's weight: 136 (You have GOT to be kidding me)

It seems as though I am starting my cleanse back at my starting weight.  Really now.

I'm almost positive the weight gain isn't an actual weight gain.  More of a bloat disaster.  It's Premenstrual Hell Week y'know.

Regardless, it's CLEANSE DAY!!!

Day 1 has been an experience. I drank some things I didn't even know were vegetables in their previous life. I gagged on many a meal.  MANY.

The Good:

I'm not all that hungry
I don't miss food.  No.  Wait.  I do miss food.  I just don't miss it like I thought I would.
Coffee? Shmoffee.  Didn't miss it today.  Ok, only a little.

The Bad:

Cranky.  So much cranky.  The poor children.  Patience left with solid food.  Damn she's fickle!
Slight headache.  Minor but irritating.
I am SO cold.  SO cold. Very very weird.

The Ugly:

Sad sad sick Scott.  Barf bucket sick. The cleanse does not like Scott very much.

The Best:

Spending so much time with Robert and Breanna.

Honestly, suffering together is kinda fun.  It's going to be one of those things that I will never do again but will always remember fondly.  Nothing forges you together like a ridiculous challenge.

Quote of the Day:

From the bathroom

Scott: Aaaahhhhhh

At the kitchen table

Breanna to Krista: Do you want to go check on him?? (insert worried frown)

Krista: Yeeeaahhh......

From the bathroom:

Scott: No! I'm ok! My poo just smells like juice!!! EW!!! 

(Which of course made him gag.  Double ew.)

I suspect Day 2 is going to be a whole hell of a lot worse than Day 1.  At least I can take heart that by lunch time the whole darn thing will be half over!
 

Monday of Shame

Last week's weigh-in: 135.0lbs
This week's weigh-in: 138.8lbs
Goal weight: 133lbs

So I am not entirely sure what is up (other than my weight). One would think The Weekend of Crazy Candy Consumption would be to blame (and it certainly was a dieting setback), but last week I was already at 138lbs on Thursday, which means less than a pound of change over the weekend. Bloating should no longer be a factor. Perhaps the new medication I am taking is affecting things?

Honestly, it sucks, but I'm also willing just to wait it out and see if it goes back down. My clothes don't fit as if I've gained four pounds, they are still looser than when I started the challenge. All I can really do is try and be hard-core about my diet and exercise.

Monday!

Weigh -in: 127.8 - darn you bloat! I wish I was still oblivious to your presence as I was for so many happy years!

I have a few pre-cleanse predictions:

First to get grumpy: Robert
Last to get grumpy: Krista
First to cry: Breanna
First to Puke: Scott ( anyone remember the running goo?)

Challenge Complete!

In happier (less whiny) news, I have completed my push-up challenge!!!

Never under estimate my desire to prove myself post fight-with-my-husband!!!

First set: 26
Second set: 15
Third set: 10

Total: 51

I went over by rote.  I forgot that I was done.  Whoops.

I should have timed myself between sets.  There were less than a minute apart.  Just enough time to curse and send the blood scurrying around my body looking for more oxygen.

I may never lift anything again, but it's done. 

I haven't been training outright for this challenge.  I have, however, been Jillian-ing.  And as everyone knows, it's her favourite strength exercise.  How could I not improve?!

Two down, one to go!!

Fat. Fatty fat fat.

I know better than to blog when I am emotional.  I do.  But sometimes I like to ignore that little voice in my head telling me that I should be reasonable.  Because I can.

This week's weight: 134lbs
Goal weight: 130lbs

The weight is still a goal.  Because, according to my very lovely husband "you still have weight you could lose".  Which, he did clarify to say, meant that I am not yet anorexic (actually, the term he used was "growing fur" but I made the leap.).

I know what he's trying to say.  Scott is telling me that:

a) I knew what I was getting into
b) I am disrespecting the integrity of the challenge

But what I hear is that I'm fat.

FAT.

I know better.  I know that I'm not fat.  My head understands that weight doesn't matter, it's how I feel about my body.  It's that I feel strong and healthy.

My self esteem still hears it.  The dreaded "F" word. 

He didn't tell me I'm fat.  Not exactly.  He went so far as to preface his comments with "I'm not saying that you're fat".  Regardless, hearing the words "You have weight to lose" and "You should keep on losing weight" hurt.  A lot.

It doesn't matter how many time HE tells me that it's not what he was saying.  It doesn't matter how many times I tell myself that that isn't what he was saying.  The echo of the feeling resonates through me.

fat, fat, fat, fat, fat.

I work so hard and (usually) feel so good about myself.  A lot of my healthy body image is comes from the knowledge that Scott finds me attractive.  Well, that, and shopping for clothes!

So, what am I going to do about it?

What? You mean I can't just complain about a problem? I actually need to fix this frickin' mess?

Fine.

First: I'm going to cry until I feel better.

Second: Diet, diet, diet! And go.

Third: Prioritize.  Make the time, every day, for my diet.  Too frickin' bad if it gets in the way of laundry or dishes.  You wanted me to do this?  I will. (Implied: So there!)

Fourth: If I don't make it, then I don't make it.  Missing one year of drinking at Christmas won't kill me.  I can dd everyone everywhere.  I won't tell anyone why I can't drink and let them think I'm pregnant.

Pity party over.  Mostly.