Silly, silly me
Sep. 27th, 2007 12:39 pmI've picked up a story making the rounds of the feminist blogs, and finally clicked on the original article Shakespeare's Sister has hung up like a pinata.
It was highly educational.
Silly, silly me. I've got an expenses-paid trip to Italy (which I have never visited) in *checks clock* 36 hours, I've got a lovely house, rock-solid friends in person, interesting friends online, amusing and productive hobbies, and a highly active fandom that brings me great joy and inspiration that has just started airing long-awaited episodes of an eagerly-anticipated spinoff (not to mention the kickoff of the new fall TV season, always a big deal for a fangirl).
For some damned reason, I thought I was, y'know, happy.
But it is not to be. I see that now. Some Brit bint named Voak knows ever so much more about me than I do, you see. And she knows that In all my years of helping overweight people to slim, I have never met a happy fat person.
There is no such thing.
Her worldview could not at all be skewed by the fact that she considers herself a 'slimming evangelist' or that the only overweight people she talks to have already decided that they are unhappy with their weight and come to her to fix the problem.
Nor can her binary worldview grasp that some people decide to deal with their weight by not angsting about it. That can take the form of not caring, or it can take the form of making certain decisions from a non-masochistic point of view. For instance, you can tell yourself "I'm going to have to strictly measure my portions and intake because I'm a fat, fat pig!" Or maybe you could say "I'm going to fill this darling little bento box with my meals, knowing that it will handle portion control for me so prettily." Perhaps it's "get your fat lazy ass on the treadmill! You must sweat in penance!" Vs. "Hmmm... workout should be 20 minutes to half an hour. A classic episode of Doctor Who or a Big Finish adventure section runs about 25 minutes. Let me move this TV in front of the treadmill..."
Am I happy with my weight? No. Doing something about it. Am I happy with my life? Funny thing, despite the weight, I'm going to say "yes." Because of, y'know, the home and the friends and the fandom and, oh, Italy.
It was highly educational.
Silly, silly me. I've got an expenses-paid trip to Italy (which I have never visited) in *checks clock* 36 hours, I've got a lovely house, rock-solid friends in person, interesting friends online, amusing and productive hobbies, and a highly active fandom that brings me great joy and inspiration that has just started airing long-awaited episodes of an eagerly-anticipated spinoff (not to mention the kickoff of the new fall TV season, always a big deal for a fangirl).
For some damned reason, I thought I was, y'know, happy.
But it is not to be. I see that now. Some Brit bint named Voak knows ever so much more about me than I do, you see. And she knows that In all my years of helping overweight people to slim, I have never met a happy fat person.
There is no such thing.
Her worldview could not at all be skewed by the fact that she considers herself a 'slimming evangelist' or that the only overweight people she talks to have already decided that they are unhappy with their weight and come to her to fix the problem.
Nor can her binary worldview grasp that some people decide to deal with their weight by not angsting about it. That can take the form of not caring, or it can take the form of making certain decisions from a non-masochistic point of view. For instance, you can tell yourself "I'm going to have to strictly measure my portions and intake because I'm a fat, fat pig!" Or maybe you could say "I'm going to fill this darling little bento box with my meals, knowing that it will handle portion control for me so prettily." Perhaps it's "get your fat lazy ass on the treadmill! You must sweat in penance!" Vs. "Hmmm... workout should be 20 minutes to half an hour. A classic episode of Doctor Who or a Big Finish adventure section runs about 25 minutes. Let me move this TV in front of the treadmill..."
Am I happy with my weight? No. Doing something about it. Am I happy with my life? Funny thing, despite the weight, I'm going to say "yes." Because of, y'know, the home and the friends and the fandom and, oh, Italy.
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Date: 2007-09-27 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 05:08 pm (UTC)!!!!!
She's gotta sell her services based on lifestyle branding? People like about makeup properties all the time. What an IDIOT.
And, I'm so happy you're going to be traveling soon.
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Date: 2007-09-27 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 05:13 pm (UTC)No, let me rephrase that.
*SNORT*
Trust me, children, you can be by all standards slender and miserable. Truly. Been there, done that.
Go to Italy. Walk and eat and shop and sightsee and squee and indulge and know that this woman is getting neither your money nor your time because her business depends on your being unhappy and, well, you're NOT.
And dude, if you get a chance? Pinch an Italian guy's ass for me. *grin*
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Date: 2007-09-27 07:04 pm (UTC)You're ON! :D
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Date: 2007-09-27 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 05:20 pm (UTC)(The Daily Mail's most telling moment: one side of the page raving about the-pedophiles-in-our-midst, the other carrying a picture of a 15-year-old Charlotte Church with comments on how big her breasts were getting.)
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Date: 2007-09-27 05:24 pm (UTC)The only reason I'm not happy is 'cos I'm always broke, not 'cos I'm not a stick insect ! Stupid, stupid woman...
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Date: 2007-09-28 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-28 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 06:04 pm (UTC)And don't forget to look at the yarn while in Italy! *wink*
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Date: 2007-09-27 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 06:58 pm (UTC)And if you need somewhere to ship it OR the sandals, you know where I live. *WEG*
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Date: 2007-09-27 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 07:23 pm (UTC)Actually, the thought of pinching Italian asses sounds better. Do that.
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Date: 2007-09-27 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 10:45 pm (UTC)On the other hand, I found a store that does custom sandals!
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Date: 2007-09-27 06:23 pm (UTC)But you still aren't happy, and I don't believe that she is. "
And yet in the Times the other week they were pointing out that Dawn French has skin to die for and a confidence that we could all learn from. Is she healthy? No. Is she happy? If she's not it's probably not because of her weight. The article in the Times made me think about how maybe we should stop looking at the bits we don't like in the mirror and start congratulating ourselves for the bits we do like. Which I think was the point of another tv programme over here called "How to Look Good Naked". I love Gok.
"I like her candor and common sense, calling someone "fat," instead of the politically correct "curvy." We all know why slimmers regain the weight. They go back to the bad habits that made them fat in the first place.
- Pamela, London"
There's a world of difference between curvy and fat. Curvy is all about having the curves in the right places in the right proportions, even if not necessarily the right measurements, whilst fat is more than that. So much of the media makes me want to see myself as fat, when in fact I know I have a fantastic curvy body. Stuff this obviously skinny bitter bitch, bet she'd love some sexy curves that have the blokes drooling.
In short ladies: find what you do like about your appearance (from your figure to your skin to your teeth to your hands to your nails, or toes, or eyes, or hair), and stuff the skinny people as long as your weight isn't unhealthy. And if it is, I wish you luck doing something about it, I'm struggling to convince myself to lose weight (my internal voices argue whether it's necessary and then someone offers me a cream cake).
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Date: 2007-09-27 07:09 pm (UTC)Yes. Precisely. But they're wittling women down to skin and bones in fashion.
Eat the cream cake and then walk around the block. Life's too short.
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Date: 2007-09-28 11:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 06:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 07:02 pm (UTC)Exactly!
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Date: 2007-09-27 09:36 pm (UTC)One dead giveaway for this kind of redefining is the claim that anyone who disagrees with them is "in denial". In this case, I could mirror it right back at her: SHE is clearly in denial about the reality of fat people who are nonetheless happy despite her loathing! It's all about the ego.
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Date: 2007-09-27 06:31 pm (UTC)Cookie?
Actually, my weight control is generally triggered by tight pants and the possibility of diabetes. Since my pants are sized 14-16, and I'm pretty happy with that (at size 14, my bp and my blood sugar are good), I imagine that bitch considers me an enormous fatass. ::makes fuck off gesture across the water::
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Date: 2007-09-27 06:56 pm (UTC)Thanks!
I want to get back down one size. Two would be nice; one will be sufficient. (My doctor doesn't give a rat's ass about the scale number, but he sees precursors in my bloodwork.) I've done it before, and I did it without drastic, unsustainable lifestyle changes. If the blood markers change, then that's enough and damn the scales.
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Date: 2007-09-27 07:36 pm (UTC)So - please, may I go SIT on this woman and break her? Because obviously she is a very unhappy woman who does nothing but focus on what she hates about herself in others and she needs a reality check.
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Date: 2007-09-27 11:46 pm (UTC)Second...I think I'll spare myself some aggravation by not reading the link. I'm happier with my life than I've ever been. When I was a size 6 and people thought that was great, I was cold, dizzy, my hipbones hurt constantly, and I was probably on the edge of an eating disorder. The dress size wasn't worth the physical pain and emotional suffering.
Does that mean I'm apparently doomed to unhappiness now that I'm not a size 6? *eye roll* Whatever. So don't think so.
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Date: 2007-09-28 05:44 pm (UTC)Which means you either bend over backwards to be "beautiful" -- a moving target, and one that inevitably gets farther away with age -- or you quit prioritizing it over health. I think "happiness" is a lot more attainable if you don't go assuming it comes with "beauty" -- and this woman's premise is flawed.
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Date: 2007-09-28 11:17 am (UTC)When I gave up on a lifetime of dieting which I began at age 13, my periods became normal in every way for the first time in my life. No pain, no flooding, no lasting forever. That's enough to make me happy right there. I'm 44, so I would expect the reverse to happen.
Mom taught me to wear classic clothes that don't go our of style, so I am not a fashion victim or a diet victim.
My husband recently became aware that adverts aimed at men try to make them feel powerful, while those aimed at women try to make them feel bad.
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Date: 2007-09-28 11:32 am (UTC)Yup, pretty much.
Wait a minute -
Date: 2007-10-01 05:52 am (UTC)(Please note how I am totally ignoring the stupid woman you were writing about....?)
Re: Wait a minute -
Date: 2007-10-08 04:31 pm (UTC)To tell the truth, though, the one physical thing I've ALWAYS hated about myself and would plastically change if I wasn't a wuss about surgery isn't the weight. It's the receding chin. I wouldn't give a rat's ass about my weight if I had a jawline.
Re: Wait a minute -
Date: 2007-10-09 11:27 am (UTC)Re: Wait a minute -
Date: 2007-10-09 11:38 am (UTC)