as a kid, one of the few verbal barbs that the children managed to muster up in an effort to make fun of me was calling me "Olive Oyl!" And really that was probably one of the most perfect things to call me, since I was indeed as skinny as a rail, tall, with big feet while being slightly and awkardly attractive.
in high school, gentle curves began to take over my body and I wasn't the tallest girl around and no one was smart enough to call me names (they simply resorted to snickering or laughing in my presence).
after high school, my body slowly expanded outward. in my lack of knowledge about nutrition, I prepared meals that would have nicely fed someone vying for a spot on the football team, carbs, carbs, and more carbs, followed closely with protein and sweets.
lately, people have been wondering how I've gotten so skinny again (or in some cases, they forgot how big I'd gotten). somehow, I can only explain that my best diet seems to be breaking up with a boyfriend.
how else can I explain that not even a year ago I gave away all my size 10 pants because I have given up on ever wearing them again! how else I can explain the struggle and frustration of trying to lose weight and not buying new pants that were a size 16, and I spent an entire year wearing two pairs of corduroys my mom bought me at Wal-mart, one pair was green and one was brown and I wore them until they literally fell apart. how else can I explain that it was like a constant agony that went everywhere with me? how else could I explain how those forty pounds had crept into my skin and stayed there, clinging to my bones for dear life and no matter how hard I tried, nothing worked.
part of the answer lies in simply not having a boyfriend. eric did most of the cooking. all the food we ate must have suited him perfectly or he had the world's most amazing metabolism, because as I began to expand, even if I tried not to eat as much as him, he stayed the same. but we had the worst combination: we always ate late. we often ate out. and he was an enormous carnivore, and his love for meat and cheese and alcohol was too alluring to refuse on a regular basis. we were two steps removed from the sin of gluttony and happier for it. some of my best memories of us involve food.
alone, I am not one to cook for myself. I can't really afford to eat out as often. I eat a lot at the coffeeshop, which is one of the reasons I find it hard to quit working there. and I tend to eat dinner well before nine (which was our usual dining hour), so I don't go to bed with a stomach full of food.
so it is not like I am actively "dieting." it is not like I am going out of my way not to eat. In fact, I love food and eating. what I am going to eat for my next meal is--sadly--a constant mental occupation (when I'm not thinking about boys, of course).
yet, I've been getting the concerned lectures about my appearance. I look skinny. and when I say that it is not really something I am trying to do, but it would be nice if I lost ten to twelve more pounds, the people get aghast. angry. worried.
This is how it began last time I was skinny, right before the rumors spread of me being anorexic (me, not eating? that was hilarious!) or bulimic (a little more plausible, but still not true) and finally, that I was ill from some kind of disease that was forcing me to shed weight rapidly (people just have way too much time on their hands).
And for some reason, the whole height weight proportion thing seems to be a completely useless factoid, because I simply appear too skinny at my proposed ideal weight (at 5'11" & 3/4, I should weigh between 155-160). but I don't feel too skinny at my ideal weight. maybe a little bit in my chest: my collarbones and ribcage seem more prounounced and visible under my skin and my breasts are smaller. no one ever says, wow look at that sexy sternum!
I've noticed this before, and it is still a confounding thing: no one ever asks me if I feel okay being skinny. everyone just assumes that I am hurting myself. no one ever assumes I feel terrible being fat. I can't walk up stairs without going out of breath, can't run for the bus without huffing and puffing; I feel heavy and bloated and weighted down. not to mention all the damage it does mentally when I look at myself and do not like what I see. just because most people in my life have gotten used to me being thirty to forty pounds overweight doesn't mean I ought to stay that way.
it just amuses me that people talk about weight so much and yet everything they say to me is completely backwards. I lost twenty pounds doing the cleanse. that was in MAY. that was eight months ago. At the time, it seemed scary and weird and I'll admit, I was a little perturbed by the whole thing too. since the cleanse, I lost another ten pounds. that I did not gain any weight back was thanks to my own delight over being thinner and my best diet plan (the breakup) as well as eating better and taking yoga class. and then what do people who love me have to say about it? are you okay, Christine? are you you taking this hard time out on your body?
maybe I should get into lady bodybuilding and then people will leave me alone.
3 comments:
Don't do lady bodybuilding! I think you're obligated to fake n' bake and roll around in some sort of substance to make your newly-leathered skin look shiny.
I just got called "bone rack" as a kid -- mostly by my relatives. And you looked perfectly healthy to me yesterday, though maybe a bit taller... have you been standing up straight? :)
This probably doesn't have anything to do with anything, but when one of the yarn-heads (hair extensions) went out to the club sans yarn I really wanted to throw it in her! She's always been uber-muscular but I lusted after her thighs for a solid hour before I realized who she was! She was also wearing stripey tights which also makes me want to fornicate. I wonder what Crumb thinks about stripey tights? She is distinctly a crumb like woman.
You should start wearing skirts that cover like an inch below your vagina. If you do this, you will be able to double the amount of sexual partners you have had within a week.
P.S. Goggles and I looked at each other in the line for the David Lynch film tonight and couldn't figure out if we should say hi or not (I was walking by to the end of the line). We did not, but it was still quite odd. Upon physical observation he might be stranger than I imagined from online things. The goggles, themselves, seemed grossly out of place on his physical being (ps if you hit the keyboard wrong when typing "his", "jod" comes out. Most distresing).
PPS Please make friends with more slutty single twentysomethings. I am single and want to mingle, to quote James Brown in the coke addled interview on my myspace profile. I just fornicated recently, as you know, so I'm remembering what it is like to use my genitals again.
~Big Jim Slade
Extra PS: Goggles was less fat then I had invisioned which, for whatever reason, made him look really odd to me. I thought he was a real big fellow and not just someone who was a little hefty. Minus all the bullshit he pulled on you, Goggles medium sized is considerably less interesting of a potential person than a heavy Goggles would be. Don't know if that makes sense. Has to do with balancing insecurities, etc.
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