ouch! to be expected. is that self defeat? no, more realism. just like my comment on being a size 8. at my skinniest i was a 10. maybe if i was anorexic i could pull off an 8, but that's no goal of mine.* i don't want to focus on a number, but i know i don't have the bone structure to be a size eight. that's the shittiest part of the patriarchal message about weight and size, size 8, 120 pounds is not the same for everyone.
case in point, my boyfriend's boss is going through this terrible divorce. she's doing her cougar thing and he has been a faithful dog taking her shit for 20 years. they keep talking about the kind of woman the boss should be dating. he wants a 5"10 120 pound model type woman. it makes me want to shout that line about the spoon from the matrix. what he wants does not exist in this reality. i give him a break because he's really a very nice man who has been fucked up, down and sideways in his marriage. i know that in his reality, when he is ready, his priority will be a woman who won't cheat on him for ten years...but the dream woman in his head bothers me.
why does every man want a 120 pound woman? the fatty mcblogsters talked about this a while ago, men want to see that number on a profile with no corroborating factors to interfere. is she a 120 pound midget? a 120 pound one legged woman? the 120 pound model in a victoria's secret push-up bra because she has no tits of her own? i think i'd prefer them to say "i want a woman with big tits, a flat stomach, thighs you can see light through". the 120 pounds is so arbitrary. it reminds me of the dear abby letters with the boyfriends who say "you'd be perfect if you lost 15 pounds". 15 pounds to me is hardly a dress size. how does a man know what 15 pounds lost or gained will look like on a woman's body. it's not about reality, it's about being manipulated into a mold. the only real difference is the degree of self loathing you reach trying to fit it.
it's all arbitrary. one woman's 15 pounds is not the same as another's, anymore than one woman's size 8 is. it's just a number on a tag that no one sees anyway. with as little hypocrisy as i can manage, i admit that i want to drop some sizes. 12 has a nice ring to it. but i hate myself for focusing on that, for focusing on the number of pounds i've lost or gained. and yet every day my title is a number. i let it run me, shit...i let it run my blog. i am chock full of hypocrisy and self doubt and ideas about being too fat. i'm shit scared of losing weight and facing all the changes it will mean to me and yet i crave it enough to sit down every day and write about wanting to be ten pounds** lighter.
D once said i was an inspiration because i don't complain about not losing. i'm too busy driving myself slowly mad thinking about it. thinking about how maybe i don't really want to lose, maybe i'm just some masochist who wants to feign trying so atleast i won't be one of those fat girls who has just let herself go.*** i'm losing a little because i'm exercising and i like it enough to do it every day, and to keep doing it for all these months. i can't help thinking every minute that i'm not doing enough. every time i take a cookie from a tray or bring an extra coke with me to work. it's only logic to think that if i skipped that i would have lost a lot more weight by now. and possibly my will to live.
i think it would be fair to say i'm being a little dramatic today. aren't we all entitled at one point or another. i honestly don't know what's harder...turning away from food or accepting myself as i am. can you be accepting of yourself while actively trying to change? see what i mean about driving myself mad?
*but man, a tape worm would be great. just for a little while.
**20 pounds lighter, one pound lighter. same difference.
***another gift of the patriarchy.