I’m going to blog about something that will make all most of you hate me in 5, 4, 3…
I have lost 10 pounds in the last 3 months. Ten pounds that I wasn’t trying to lose. That I guess I really couldn’t afford to lose.
When unemployment, the holidays, a break-up, and winter join forces most normal people gain weight. But if you haven’t figured out what my screen name means yet, this is just another example.
The thing is, when I look in the mirror I don’t see skinny. I just see me. I don’t notice the weight that I do or do not have. I can’t comprehend what people see in me at the mall that causes them to whisper to one another, “She must have an eating disorder.” I didn’t see what the girls saw in high school to make them call me anorexic or bulimic behind my back. I just saw me.
I just don’t get it. In these last three months, nothing has really changed. My “diet” is still the same old gobs and gobs of food every two or three hours.
But I know that other people notice the weight loss. And I know what they’re thinking in their minds. “She needs to eat another sandwich.” I know the media glamorizes the tall and skinny, but in the real world it’s a different story–jealousy lurks in every shop and sidewalk.
Why is that the case? Again, when I look in the mirror I do not see how skinny my arms are or how thin my face is. I just see me. The girl inside with a quirky personality and general naivety towards the world. And I like what I see.
If you haven’t stopped reading and you don’t completely hate me yet… I guess my point is this: I wish people would stop seeing one another as pounds or kilograms, but as genuine people with goals and desires, dreams and passions. We are all gorgeous and I wish we would just stop getting in the way of our true beauty.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
-Walt Whitman, Song of Myself