ANATOMY OF A WEIGHT LOSS
It was my 16th birthday and I received my very first diet book.
Puberty had slathered layers of fat on a body that had previously sported lean legs and bony hips.
I had been totally ignorant of my changing body but mum and her cohorts hadn’t. I imagined them gathering in small knots of concern in the kitchen, whispering about Womanhood’s bad intentions and how they should stage an intervention to stave off the blubber.
So they presented me with a veritable Pandora’s Box of neuroses and obsession in the form of the 28 Day Weight Loss book.
From the moment I opened its glossy pages and saw bubble-permed ladies standing proudly next to their saggy, grotesque old selves I was done for. Calories, weigh-ins, fat-free food, aerobics – all tools to get me to the Promised Land.
A place where milk and honey were off limits but a size 6 dress was up for grabs.
I started fantasising about reaching my thin place. Huge golden doors would open. Beyond the doors lay a better, more gorgeous, more popular me. I would be physically smaller but life would be bigger. An entire galaxy of opportunity and cute boys would be mine if I could just subsist on fuck-all food for a month…
…and here I am some 20 years later and frankly I’ve not really changed. I’ve been on the diet treadmill for two thirds of my life. I’m infinitely savvier than my 16-year-old self. I know about photo-shopping and extreme dieting and the perpetuation of body ideals.
And yet I STILL believe life will be a hunky-dory swell fest if I can get to X kilos.
I’m not fat, I’m not over-weight but there’s a part of my brain that’s turned its back on pragmatism and is sitting with hands over ears going ‘blah blah blah can’t hear you’.
My beautiful best friend recently separated from her husband. She’s rebuilding her life but the anxiety from the split has left her very thin. Too thin. She is aware of it, but the notion of allowing her body to get bigger is a complete anathema. In the back catalogue of conversations about our bodies, putting on weight has only ever been acceptable when we were pregnant.
I have struggled to talk to her about it. I’m scared the part of me that refuses to acknowledge sensible thoughts regarding diet would take over. I’m terrified it would reinforce the belief that happiness is inversely proportionate to the numbers on the scale… no matter how small they are.
And that’s the rub. It’s a numbers game.
A few decades on and my dieting (and I suspect that of many of my friends) actually has a nebulous connection to the achievement of a body ideal or even a smaller dress size (although that was definitely the catalyst when I was younger).
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6 Responses to this article
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Ellie August 7, 2012
This story is a realistic portrayal of how most women in this country think and feel and I am no different.
I have believed for the last 10 years that if I was 5 kilos lighter, my world would become perfect. What a ridiculous fantasy.
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The Huntress August 7, 2012
It’s amazing how so many of us believe that if only we are our ideal dress size our lives would be perfect.
I have learned the hard way that my weight will not determine my happiness. I remember when I was living with my first boyfriend and fantastically thin (I was considered very underweight by BMI) and he used to tell me how fat and disgusting I was most days. I did everything I could to try and lose weight, but after a year I realised it wasn’t actually my weight that was making me unhappy, it was the boyfriend. So he got chucked and I continued on.
I have since had a rollercoaster of a life where I have often believed if I just lose weight everything will be perfect. But then I went to uni and got a degree that made me happy. I got a job that makes me feel good. I have a son who sees beauty in his mummy no matter what (no idea how that happened!). These are the things that make my life worthwhile, not the numbers on my scale. In fact I don’t weigh myself anymore, the only time I do is if my clothes start getting a bit snug and then I weigh myself monthly for about 3 months – weighing in any more than that for a woman just doesn’t give you good information as our monthly hormonal changes do affect our weight. I can put on 3kg in one day at the wrong time of the month! I did weigh myself last week as I have just had a breast reduction (Yipppeeeeee!!!! Now THAT has changed my life wonderfully!) and I was curious to see if the amount taken off would correspond with my scale. All was well, so I won’t be weighing in again for a while now.
For now my happiness is going to be concentrated on finding a wonderful new job.
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the*sparrow August 7, 2012
Oh Victoria, me too.
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RobynMarie August 7, 2012
Wow I thought it was just me! I can still remember my Nanna saying I had ‘child bearing hips’ which is ironic because that is the very thing my hips were incapable of. But still, when I am skinny, that won’t matter. All the years I’ve said that to myself – needless to say I am not any where near skinny.
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Lizabelle August 7, 2012
Well said, Victoria. My mum put me on a diet at eleven, and that started a lifelong cycle of bingeing and dieting which I’m still trying to find my way out of. Likewise, I can see the food issues going back three generations, from me (and one of my sisters) to my mum and grandmother. It’s just so sad.
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Jennie August 8, 2012
When I was 15 I started eating carrots by the kilo to stave off hunger pangs, I ended up turning orange and got Vitamin A poisoning, apparently I could have died if my family had not noticed me turning orange. The things we do! I don’t remember my mother telling me to lose weight, but I certainly remember feeling fat although I would have been size 12 at the time, I was slightly pudgy but nobody told me this was normal for 15 year old girls. I had certainly got the message that I was not thin enough, probably from magazines like Dolly which were big at the time. I’m very proud that my own daughter has never cared as much about her weight as I did, she’s a size 12 to 14 but fit-looking. I always drummed into her that it didn’t matter (although I didn’t feel that way about myself) and she is very bubbly and curvy and in her early 20′s she beats the boys off with sticks, I think it’s because she is confident and doesn’t care that she isn’t a stick figure. Her father also told her over and over that men didn’t like skinny girls, which I think helped enormously too, and I think dads have a big role to play in helping their daughters feel confident and pretty no matter their size.















