I’ve been blogging for a while now, but always about something
else, like books or movies or politics…never about myself. Never about
my struggle—my lifelong struggle—with my weight.
It started when I was eight years old. My mother was excited about a new book she had purchased, The Diet Revolution by Robert Atkins. Having fought against overweight all her life, she must have wanted to save me the struggle—you know, get a handle on it early, before it was a problem. Nip it in the bud.
But what happened was this: at 8, I learned that meat was good and fruits and veggies were bad. I learned—at 8—that my mother thought I was fat and that oranges were a sin. Can you write a better recipe for body-angst?
That was the genesis of my body/weight consciousness. I dieted for the next four decades on-and-off, mostly on. I did what probably everyone reading this has done—been “good” and lost weight, been “bad” and gained it back plus some.
About a year ago, I became a vegan. This happened instantly—as powerfully as a religious conversion—because a friend (my co-blogger here) kept on and on and on about vegan living until I finally heard her. She sent me some books. I read them, and I was on board. In one frantic half-hour, my kitchen was cleansed of all animal products, from the meat in the freezer through the milk and cheese and eggs, and down through the boxed mac-and-cheese in the pantry. I never looked back.
But I was still fat. I am still fat. So, I’ve decided to blog my thoughts, feelings, struggles, and victories here—out loud—to find whether this kind of public catharsis and airing of long-kept secret hurts will be beneficial to my health.
If there is a way to losing weight in a healthy, longterm way, catharsis is certainly part of that. Vulnerability is certainly key. Speaking truth is certainly required.
It started when I was eight years old. My mother was excited about a new book she had purchased, The Diet Revolution by Robert Atkins. Having fought against overweight all her life, she must have wanted to save me the struggle—you know, get a handle on it early, before it was a problem. Nip it in the bud.
But what happened was this: at 8, I learned that meat was good and fruits and veggies were bad. I learned—at 8—that my mother thought I was fat and that oranges were a sin. Can you write a better recipe for body-angst?
That was the genesis of my body/weight consciousness. I dieted for the next four decades on-and-off, mostly on. I did what probably everyone reading this has done—been “good” and lost weight, been “bad” and gained it back plus some.
About a year ago, I became a vegan. This happened instantly—as powerfully as a religious conversion—because a friend (my co-blogger here) kept on and on and on about vegan living until I finally heard her. She sent me some books. I read them, and I was on board. In one frantic half-hour, my kitchen was cleansed of all animal products, from the meat in the freezer through the milk and cheese and eggs, and down through the boxed mac-and-cheese in the pantry. I never looked back.
But I was still fat. I am still fat. So, I’ve decided to blog my thoughts, feelings, struggles, and victories here—out loud—to find whether this kind of public catharsis and airing of long-kept secret hurts will be beneficial to my health.
If there is a way to losing weight in a healthy, longterm way, catharsis is certainly part of that. Vulnerability is certainly key. Speaking truth is certainly required.
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