So What If I'm Skinny
For breakfast I ate four - yes, four - Krispy Kreme doughnuts. For lunch I had two pieces of pizza. After looking at my recently updated photosite, a friend from high school e-mailed me to ask my secret for staying so thin. Really, I have no idea.
My lunches through most of high school consisted of a pack of Mambas, a Coke and a bag of Doritos. I used to eat about a pound of candy a day. Some days I lapse and stuff my face with the sugary goodness, but for the most part I have struggled with ending my addiction to sugar. It just isn't healthy. I always worried that I was going to give myself a good case of diabetes. When I worked at Express, I would buy a Coke, pound of jellybeans and a container of Fat Free Pringles from the mall's Rite Aid. I had the unhealthiest of diets, and obviously it hasn't improved a great deal, but I have never been fat. When I was pregnant my doctor was insanely worried about my size; he watched me like a hawk. He thought I was going to give birth to a small, sickly baby - even with the constant ultrasounds. Imagine his surprise when my 7lb4oz baby girl popped out - 98th percentile in height. My pretty, healthy baby girl. My doctor caused me all that worry for nothing. And then two weeks later I was back in my skinny jeans. I never had that leftover belly that makes people still think you are 8 months pregnant. Lucky me, but I had nothing to do with it. Sure I exercise sometimes (I have ceased my regular walk/jogs) and I would like to eat more vegetables than candy, but for my eating habits, I do wonder why I amn't the size of a cow.
The last time I was at the doctor; it was my first time with her. She spoke to me for at least ten minutes on eating habits and disorders. I was confused by the lecture, because I don't think that I look eating disorder-skinny (have you seen my thighs?) and my weight isn't even too low for my height - I could even stand to lose 10 pounds, if I wanted to go for the movie star look, but everytime I lose weight my clothes drown me and I look dreadful because I can't afford new duds to clothe my skinny self, so I stick with the size 6.
Before I move on from talking about skinniness, there has always been something that bothered me about being thin. People feel like they can comment on it - like being skinny makes it okay to comment on your weight, like you won't mind discussing it, because hey you are skinny. Well, dammit, I just can't stand it. Think about how awkward it is for the skinny person.
"My gawd, yer so skinny. Ya need to eat somethin'." Says the fat lady as she is chawin' on her cracklin' bread. I am just fine the way I am, thank you.
When I gave blood one time, the take-my-blood lady told me that I should gain 25 pounds because the normal weight for my height is 150, not 125. When I told her I had a nice healthy breakfast of raisin bran and milk. She guffawed and proceeded to list the breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, buscuits and gravy I should have eaten instead.
Okay, so you think I am too skinny. You think I need to gain weight. What about that makes it okay for you to tell me so. Do I walk up to you and tell you to put down that cheeseburger because you are too fat and really should lose 25 pounds because the normal weight for your height is far from 200 lbs? No, I don't, tempted though I may be. So don't tell me to pick up the cheeseburger.
"Girl, you are too skinny. Are you eating enough food? Are you eating at all?" - Think about it. How is that okay for someone to say to another person when "gawd, you are so fat, are you eating too much? Do you know what portion control means?" would get you wiped off the planet.
Even if someone doesn't mean it is a critical-you-need-to-gain-weight fashion, just mentioning someone's weight makes the conversation critical. You may mean, "wow, you are so tiny/thin/skinny" to be a compliment, but what am I supposed to say to that? Mostly I just smile or nod - to say thanks just seems so weird. So stick to the hair, stick to the outfit. Weight isn't a compliment.
And I just finished a third piece of pizza, so thhppppppptttttt (that's me sticking out my tongue at you). Oh and just in case you are wondering, no I am not going to go throw up after I am done with this post. I am going to pop some laxatives. Just kidding. Really, there's no secret - it's God and it's genetics.
My lunches through most of high school consisted of a pack of Mambas, a Coke and a bag of Doritos. I used to eat about a pound of candy a day. Some days I lapse and stuff my face with the sugary goodness, but for the most part I have struggled with ending my addiction to sugar. It just isn't healthy. I always worried that I was going to give myself a good case of diabetes. When I worked at Express, I would buy a Coke, pound of jellybeans and a container of Fat Free Pringles from the mall's Rite Aid. I had the unhealthiest of diets, and obviously it hasn't improved a great deal, but I have never been fat. When I was pregnant my doctor was insanely worried about my size; he watched me like a hawk. He thought I was going to give birth to a small, sickly baby - even with the constant ultrasounds. Imagine his surprise when my 7lb4oz baby girl popped out - 98th percentile in height. My pretty, healthy baby girl. My doctor caused me all that worry for nothing. And then two weeks later I was back in my skinny jeans. I never had that leftover belly that makes people still think you are 8 months pregnant. Lucky me, but I had nothing to do with it. Sure I exercise sometimes (I have ceased my regular walk/jogs) and I would like to eat more vegetables than candy, but for my eating habits, I do wonder why I amn't the size of a cow.
The last time I was at the doctor; it was my first time with her. She spoke to me for at least ten minutes on eating habits and disorders. I was confused by the lecture, because I don't think that I look eating disorder-skinny (have you seen my thighs?) and my weight isn't even too low for my height - I could even stand to lose 10 pounds, if I wanted to go for the movie star look, but everytime I lose weight my clothes drown me and I look dreadful because I can't afford new duds to clothe my skinny self, so I stick with the size 6.
Before I move on from talking about skinniness, there has always been something that bothered me about being thin. People feel like they can comment on it - like being skinny makes it okay to comment on your weight, like you won't mind discussing it, because hey you are skinny. Well, dammit, I just can't stand it. Think about how awkward it is for the skinny person.
"My gawd, yer so skinny. Ya need to eat somethin'." Says the fat lady as she is chawin' on her cracklin' bread. I am just fine the way I am, thank you.
When I gave blood one time, the take-my-blood lady told me that I should gain 25 pounds because the normal weight for my height is 150, not 125. When I told her I had a nice healthy breakfast of raisin bran and milk. She guffawed and proceeded to list the breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, buscuits and gravy I should have eaten instead.
Okay, so you think I am too skinny. You think I need to gain weight. What about that makes it okay for you to tell me so. Do I walk up to you and tell you to put down that cheeseburger because you are too fat and really should lose 25 pounds because the normal weight for your height is far from 200 lbs? No, I don't, tempted though I may be. So don't tell me to pick up the cheeseburger.
"Girl, you are too skinny. Are you eating enough food? Are you eating at all?" - Think about it. How is that okay for someone to say to another person when "gawd, you are so fat, are you eating too much? Do you know what portion control means?" would get you wiped off the planet.
Even if someone doesn't mean it is a critical-you-need-to-gain-weight fashion, just mentioning someone's weight makes the conversation critical. You may mean, "wow, you are so tiny/thin/skinny" to be a compliment, but what am I supposed to say to that? Mostly I just smile or nod - to say thanks just seems so weird. So stick to the hair, stick to the outfit. Weight isn't a compliment.
And I just finished a third piece of pizza, so thhppppppptttttt (that's me sticking out my tongue at you). Oh and just in case you are wondering, no I am not going to go throw up after I am done with this post. I am going to pop some laxatives. Just kidding. Really, there's no secret - it's God and it's genetics.
posted by The Narcissist at 1:29 PM
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