Coming across my Facebook feed this morning was a pic of a woman, a coach in one of those beachbody programs or some such bullshit.
“Are you frustrated with those extra pounds around your middle, sick of those no carb, no sugar diets and feeling deprived of your favorite foods? Want to learn the secrets to a flat belly and dumping that extra weight for good? Request access to my private FB live event tonight.”
No, Miss Anorexia, I’m frustrated because you think that you’re the ideal of what a woman should look like.
Standing at a 45-degree angle to make herself look even skinnier, with her long, wavy brown hair and prominent proboscis, she reminded me of Tiny Tim (the eccentric singer/banjoist from the 60s, not the one from A CHRISTMAS CAROL). No breasts, no hips, all bones and sinew.
“What woman in her right mind would even want to look like that?” I spat. “She’s at least 50 and when you’re 50 or older and that skinny, you just look gross.”
Because she posted a pic of herself, obviously desirous of positive comments on how stupendous she looked (and I, riding the wave of a sugar high from last night’s debauched partaking of 1, 2, THREE! MAGNUM ice cream bars (finally! – a product aptly-named!), decided to post a comment of my own:
TOO SKINNY. NOT ATTRACTIVE.
But we women (and men, too… Shhhh…..eating disorders among men are a big secret) continue to pursue that ideal of thin – like it means something. Like it’s going to change our lives. Christ Almighty, the time I’ve wasted pursuing thin. And I was there once – almost 20 years ago – for about 15 minutes. I recall that moment when I stood on the scale, after a hiatus from weighing in: 142 pounds on my 5′ 7″ frame.
That was THIN, People!
This was my exact, first thought, “Hmmm….that’s a pretty low number.”
My next thought was, “Hmmm, but my life still isn’t perfect.”
Shortly thereafter, I became aware that I felt puny being so small, that I was cold all the time, but mostly, that being thin didn’t make any difference in relation to the rest of my life. I finally realized that happy didn’t equal thin. Thin is an adjective. And so is happy. And you can be thin and unhappy, thin and happy, overweight and happy or overweight and unhappy.
But I think it’s time we stopped equating being happy with being thin.
What do you think?