a thousand kisses deep.

I am deleting a now unused blog, and this is the only entry that I want to save from it. It basically sums up the way I feel about being fat. It was written on January 8th, 2008:

The last year of my life was fraught with change and transition. I found myself attempting to make breaks from old habits, and one of my resolutions for 2007 was to try to take more risks, and attempt to put myself outside of my comfort zone in a plethora of situations. Do I feel that I was successful? Well, I cannot argue that I didn't at least make an attempt. When you consider that I left my job of over four years to go back to school, well then yes, that was a risk. I left a scenario that I was accustomed to, and comfortable with. I left the people that I had worked with for years, people that I liked, people that I knew that I could rely of for a source of daily comfort and support, whether it be through light and casual conversation, or the unburdening of my internal struggles. I gave up my apartment that I held so dear, my cozy little downtown nook, full of books and cats, stocked with gourmet tea and cheap wine, and furnished with third-hand furniture and pilfered knick-knacks. I left this for a basement bedroom in my father's and stepmother's house. I haven't lived with my father since I was 22, shortly after my mother died... this has been an adjustment!

But I also believe that when I was initially outlining my goals for 2007, what I actually meant by intending to take more risks was to do just that... risk appearing foolish, risk being embarrassed, risk your pride to do the things that you want. This is what I meant by putting myself outside of my comfort zone: do what you want to do regardless of what people will think. This has by far been my life's most difficult lesson, and I know it is one that most people struggle with at some point in their life.

I am just sick of it ruling my though processes! I want to take a pilates class without being afraid of being the fattest girl in the class. Who cares if I am the fattest girl in the class? Following logic, doesn't someone have to be the fattest girl in the class? Why can't it be me? What is wrong with that? I want to walk by stores and see something that I like, walk in and try it on, regardless of the fact that it might not fit me! What happens if it doesn't fit me? I put it back and walk out of the store! Or better yet, find something else that does! Why am I so afraid of the judging eyes of the pilates instructor, sales clerk, random passerby? Why do I care? And furthermore, why do I assume that they will judge me in a negative manner?

These are all questions that I have grappled with for most of my adult life. And they are also questions that I trying to force myself to examine a little more closely.

I am so tired of having my fat-related paranoia rule my life. I have been fat since I was a child. It is not a matter of not excercising - my summer months are filled with downtown pavement walks on hot days, and bike rides on the boardwalk, and swimming in Lake Superior. It's not a matter of poor eating habits - while I may not exactly be a picture of perfect nutrition, I do enjoy fruits and vegetables more than most people I know. Perhaps it lies in the fact that I am not a fan of self-denial? When I desire chocolate, cheese, laughter, comfort, sex, pleasures of all varieties, I in turn seek them! Perhaps my excess adipose tissue is a penance for hedonistic ways?

I would say that about 75% of the time, I like the way that I look. I am eternally flawed... name any body part, and I will list a complaint. My hair is too fine, my nose is too big, my skin is too dry, my eyebrows uneven, my arms are too fat and my legs are too short. I have a giant scar on my left leg, and it gets swollen when I am on my feet for too long. I get ingrown toenails, and I have the scar on the back of my neck that flares up into and angry rash every once in awhile. My eyes are too small, and my fingernails are very weak and flimsy. My complexion is too ruddy, and I get these brown skin patches around my upper arms because of a condition. My breasts are too large, and I don't like their shape. My vulva is lopsided!

And yet... I still feel okay about myself, 75% of the time. I think that's a pretty good number! When you consider the number of times in a day when you are faced with someone trying to convince you not to like who you are, I will absolutely be okay with liking myself 75% of the time.

2007 was the first year that I found moderate success with my resolutions. And it was also the first year, in at least ten, that I DID NOT resolve to lose weight. Coincidence? Instead, I quit smoking. I am very proud of this!

My primary resolution for 2008?

To love myself 25% more!