A fitness instructor, one whom I respect, one whom has energising, feel good workouts, wrote a post about the ways of skinny women.
I felt disappointed. Betrayed even.
When will we stop categorising people, and most especially women, according to their weight?
Since when is skinny a compliment, a goal to which to aspire?
I’ve had eating disorders. I’ve been thin, very thin, but never thin enough to please the significant others in my life.
I’ve had exercise addictions.
I’ve been a “normal” weight.
I’ve been obese.
I am “overweight”.
But I am no longer obsessed about weight and appearance. I am no longer cold and tired and achey all the time, in retrospect the side effects for me of dieting and exercising to maintain a “good” weight. My health and blood tests are good. I’m healthy. And I am no longer willing to maintain the level of obsession needed for me to have a certain look. For there was a level of obsession. And now I have other things to think about, other dreams to follow.
I take care of myself, or at least I aim to. I aim to look like me, a good enough me. I aim to be heathy and happy. I love working out, for my health, for my “me” time, for fun, as a challenge. I aim to spend time on my looks but more time on who I am, on prayers, in using my mind, on my vocation, my work, on others, on my dreams, on the me that is more than weight and looks.
I think I can be me and still look good.
And so do “Intuitive Eating”, “The Rules of Normal Eating”, “Beyond Chocolate”, “Nice Girls Finish Fat”. (You can find those books on Amazon or Kindle or the groups on Facebook.)
It’s the way of the happy, healthy woman.