dianaschnuth

Self-acceptance has been a challenge for me since puberty, I’ve realized.

Before then, I didn’t really believe little Tyrone when he called me fat and punched me in the stomach when I was five or six years old. I didn’t see a problem with being a size 14/16 at age eleven. It wasn’t until sixth grade, when I changed schools and started growing boobs and zits and had some of my first really unpleasant academic and social experiences, that I started to get down on myself.

For me, the concept of loving myself for who I am right now is just foreign. I’m always trying to fix myself. Lose weight. Stop procrastinating. Get organized. Treat myself better. Have better hygiene. For me, self-acceptance is merely the lack of self-deprecation, or just not thinking about my opinion of myself at all.

This week, Sheryl e-mailed me with a one-liner:

Have you heard about this “fat acceptance” movement? What do you think about it?

I hadn’t heard about it, so I hit Wikipedia, where I read the condensed version. It’s exactly what it sounds like: “a grassroots effort to change societal attitudes towards individuals who are fat.” So, I formulated an opinion:

Are fat people discriminated against? Do people make unfair assumptions about them? Definitely. Is being overfat unhealthy? I’m not a doctor, but I’m going to say yes.

I’m going to lump this into overall tolerance. I can’t be sure it requires a “movement,” but being socially tolerant of people in general is a good idea. Medically, though, I can’t see being OK with a loved one being obese. I wish [my BFF] would lose some [more] weight, for her own sake (and the same with all my other obese friends), but I don’t love her any less for there being more of her to love.

Sheryl then introduced me to Kate Harding’s Shapely Prose blog, where Kate and two other bloggers write about the importance of Health At Every Size. Sheryl also told me, “I’m not saying ‘DIANA. Stop losing weight and love yourself!’ I’m saying, love yourself at every step. 😀 It’s kinda liberating.”

Until she said that, I completely hadn’t realized she meant ME. I need to accept MYSELF.

But it’s so hard.
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A few years ago, back when Napoleon Dynamite was all the rage, I bought myself a Vote for Pedro t-shirt on Amazon. Alas, when I got it, I discovered that it was just a touch too tight. …OK, maybe more than “a touch.”

I held onto that shirt for a year before I decided that it would make a good before-and-after weight photo. So, I put on my best-fitting pair of jeans (read: least tight in the waist), put on my too-tight shirt, and took some pictures. As expected, once I saw the pics full-size on my computer, I swore I would show them to no one until I had an appropriate After picture.

And here we are, twenty pounds later. I’m wearing a different pair of jeans, mainly because these fit better than (read: are not as loose as) the other ones (which I do still own), but the difference is still obvious:

Differences that stand out for me:

• The smaller waist. No more jellyroll / spare tire. Or, at least, not as noticeable of one.
• The neck. I have bones and tendons and shadows!
• The pants fit. Properly.
• I like my short hair. Having some hair to frame my face suits me.
• The upper arm is smaller. Hard to see unless you’re looking for it. Like I am.
• Even my fingers are thinner! Lookit that!
• The boobs. They have shrunk. Part of me is sad to see them go.

So, I wonder what the picture for 170 lbs and 24 BMI will look like? We’ll find out next year…

I spent the normal amount of money for a clothes shopping trip, but came back with a lot fewer clothes, and nothing that was actually on my agenda. Sheryl talked me into a pair of jeans from Buckle, and I got two tops and a skirt from Torrid (which is no longer totally Hot Topic for Fat Chicks). Alas, I did not get any more work pants, as the ones I tried on were unbearably frumpy. I also didn’t get any more blouses for work, although I’m thinking that I’ll be fine on that front, once I unearth the cold-weather clothes.

I’m having mixed feelings toward my body right now. Don’t misunderstand: I’m still super geeked about dropping a size, and it’s awesome to be feeling bones in places where only a layer of fat existed before. And to be wearing a wedding ring two sizes smaller than my high school class ring. And to have been able to buy pants at a non-specialty store.

But.

Goddamn, I have a long way to go.

My new low-rise jeans reveal the same paunch that I see on other chicks and say, “Why is she wearing that in public? Doesn’t she know that’s too tight?” My more form-fitting shirts remind me that I most certainly do not yet have anything resembling a flat stomach. I feel like the frumpy girl who’s trying SO HARD to look stylish… and almost succeeding. But not quite.

I know, I know — I’ve lost over 60 pounds total. That’s nothing to sneeze at, as they say. But, Jesus Christ, when am I ever going to be done? How long do I have to consciously be eating to lose weight? When do I get to reap the final reward? When do I get to be a normal fucking human being, instead of feeling like the fat chick?

*does some calculations*

Well, shit.

According to my anal-retentive weight-plotting chart, if I keep losing like I have been for the past four months, I should be at my target weight by Valentine’s Day 2009. That makes me feel a lot better, and more focused. I’m almost halfway there!

Push through for another five months, and maybe I’ll have to buy myself a smaller size of too-expensive (but oh-so-stylish) Buckle jeans.

Official weigh-in today shows that I’m less than five pounds away from my 10% goal. I lost 1.2 pounds this week, despite sharing a strawberry rhubarb pie with Aaron at the Fulton County Fair.

This weekend, I was eyeing my Sterilite container full of too-small clothes that were too cool to thrift off. I’d told myself that I wasn’t going to try any of them on until I had dropped another size, just so I wouldn’t be disappointed… but I was curious. So, I pulled the box down from the top of the closet, pulled on an XL girly tee from Wizzywig — and it fit.

OMG. I can haz cute clothes?

The XL girly tees I bought from Threadless aren’t quite fitting the way I’d like them to — the armpits are bunching up a little — but it won’t be long on those. They fit well enough that they’re perfectly serviceable for bumming around the house after work, though.

I can comfortably wear 2XL girly tees from Steve & Barry’s (which is what started this whole process of wondering about my other cute clothes), but I couldn’t find anything terribly awesome to buy last time I was there.

The only thing that’s kind of frustrating is that there’s really no way to target fat loss from particular places on the body, like thighs and upper arms and upper belly. I can exercise them and firm up the muscles underneath, but that won’t burn off the fat on top. So I’ll just have to wait. As a next step to teh cuteness, I’d really love to feel comfortable in non-knee-length shorts.

Maybe by next summer. For now, I’m at least on the right track.