It only matters what works for you.

Archive for November, 2014

It isn’t just french fries.

I am really conflicted about this ad:

On the one hand, I am utterly appalled at what passes for healthy eating in this country. Our food supply is a nightmare. Refined, mutated, depleted, it can be difficult to get adequate nutrition. It genuinely astonishes me how many adults don’t know how to cook. Not even anything fancy, but how to make a meal out of basic ingredients. Add in a low-fat bias and we’re pretty much doomed. Teaching kids how to make a healthy meal and how to enjoy one is an important parenting step that isn’t always getting the attention it deserves, for many reasons, some unavoidable like economic inaccessibility of quality ingredients, and sometimes just because.

So yes, teaching our kids about healthy nutrition is really important.

But this PSA? It’s all about fear tactics, and it leaves out so much.

The blame for weight issues is always assumed to be food choices and nothing else. And that tunnel vision makes me so angry!

Sure, many people eat badly. Plenty of them are thin too, and no one feels it necessary to emotionally manipulate them into self loathing.


That’s right. In my experience (personal and direct from friends) every time a fat person fails at a diet program, they hate themselves. Because ‘everyone’ knows that if you just stick to your diet, you’ll lose weight. So if you don’t lose weight on your diet, it’s a personal failing. The medical profession really compounds this by being condescending and skeptical. Because even though I’m a well educated, intelligent adult, I can’t be trusted to watch my own calorie count. If the diet doesn’t work, I must be lying to myself about what I’m really eating.

I could go on about this for quite a while. I have a lot of hostility on this subject saved up.

But back to that ad.

It shows that poor guy who has been overweight his entire life, and pretty much suggests that he’s fat because his mom fed him fries as a kid. Because it’s the only thing that makes him stop crying.

You know what I’d ask a parent if they said only one food would make their kid stop crying?

“Have you checked in to food allergies?”

The problem with reducing everything to the calories in/calories out model is that there can be a LOT more going on, and it makes life very unpleasant for those who can’t figure out why, and don’t have the time and energy to chase after possibilities. We need society to be a little more open minded about causes and a little less judgmental.

Ok, and feed our kids fewer french fries, that’s true enough.



I have felt so miserable since last October. Constant pain and lethargy, the smallest activity hurt and exhausted me. And it just kept on and on and on, no matter what I tried, what changes I made. No wonder I haven’t been blogging about it right? It was all too depressing.

But, as with all horrible and depressing experiences, I learned something important.

All my life I’ve felt the need to be thin. It would let me fit in better. I would have more opportunities. I’d be healthier. I’d finally be allowed to feel good about myself. It could change everything, right?

But none of that matters.

What matters is I have consistently held myself back from enjoying what is, in favor of what might/could be in the future.

All I can do now is sit here blinking-wide eyed at myself for having taken so very long, and having needed such a very harsh lesson to learn to be grateful for what I have and to learn to enjoy the moment, the journey.

To give thanks every damn day that getting out of bed doesn’t hurt. Every day to enjoy what I can, instead of always wishing for what I want.

It seems so painfully obvious written out like that. But reading it, even intellectually knowing it, isn’t the same as living it and owning it.

It’s all clear and fresh in my mind right now. There are still some lingering pain issues, still some things I can’t do yet, but just seeing progress after such an endless time of barely treading water feels like a genuine miracle.

I hope that by writing it all out for myself, I’ll be able to remember the magic and the lesson when the future comes and it’s no longer a wonderful surprise when standing up isn’t a challenge, and when I can once again enjoy walking in the woods, or even shopping until I’m finished instead of when I’m exhausted. I never want to have to go through this lesson again.

Every morning now I’m teaching myself to wake up and feel the joy of a new day and remember to be happy about the small things. I hope by the time the new fades, the joy will be a habit.