Do you have enough points left? Will it tip you over? How will you compensate?
It’s being blinded to everything outside of size tags, calorie counts and numbers on the scale.
Too much. Not enough. Slightly over. Just not enough… but never quite right, ever. No matter what you do. Never good enough.
It’s feeling trapped. You know your captor… but you choose to keep them there.
How can something hurt you when it’s meant to make you “better”?
It’s obsession. Fixation. Suffocation.
Every waking moment spent consumed by the weight.
Not just the weight of your body (which apparently will always be too much of everything and not enough of nothing) but the crippling emotions that come with it.
B. I. G.
Those three little letters that spell your doom.
Who are you to take up space?
With a personality like that, you can’t afford to draw attention to yourself.
You’re sick of them staring. You can feel their disgust… or maybe it’s all in your head. You don’t know anymore.
But when you feel their judgement, you hear it in your own voice.
When you see someone glance at you, you see it through your own lens of scrutiny.
You’re sure that you can stop at any point. You’re in control, remember?
Just a little more to go and then you’ll be done. And you’ll be good enough. And they’ll stop staring and judging and you’ll finally be able to love yourself.
At least just a little, anyway.
That’s what you strive to be.
A shrinking illusion, a waif of a woman. Someone who can effortlessly breeze into the changing room of a department store and look wonderful in the smallest sizes straight off the rack.
“It’s about health!” you tell them all. And maybe part of it is. And that’s okay.
But somewhere along the way, you’ve crossed your wires. It’s not about what matters anymore. It’s about control. Punishment. Competition. Conformity. Your desire to be loved and admired and respected.
And how could you not be finally the worthy recipient of all of those things if you were to inhabit a smaller body?
So you keep trying. Keep pushing on. Keep reducing.
And with every new diet book you read… every new food group you eliminate… every moment you feel yourself slipping further into obsession…
You feel yourself slipping too, further away from yourself.
Further away from the you that just wants to be able to eat a meal without thinking about it. The you that wants to be healthy and happy and have goals and dreams that don’t include incrementally reducing numerical rankings of worth.
Who are you anymore when you take away the routines, the macro counting, the constant quest for more (or should I say less)?
Who are you;
And where were you when you first started believing that you weren’t good enough?
Who are you before you weren’t able to breathe… weren’t able to speak… weren’t able to see past the fog…
This is what diet culture feels like.
And this is EXACTLY why diet culture hurts us all. Because a culture that tells women that they’re worth more only when they weigh less has nothing to do with health, and everything to do with obedience.
Isn’t it time you rebelled?