My Body Is Just Fine, Thank You Very Much

I've been looking at photos of me as a child in the 1950s, which reveal a "normal" sized girl. Yet, when I think as far back as age 8, I recall feeling shy about showing my body and thinking I was fat. In a photo taken when I was 9, I'm jumping rope in the hot summer sun, wearing a dress instead of shorts to hide my body.

For much of my life, I've never met a carb I didn't like. When I was 34, a friend and I joked about opening a restaurant called "Carbs R Us" that would serve mashed potatoes, creamed corn, pound cake and the like. 

Today, if you gave me a choice between a kale salad and a slice of banana bread, I'd choose the bread. I've got nothing against fruits and vegetables; it's just that carbs are my go-to foods.

In elementary school, I went through a period where I ate cereal and milk for my after-school snack. I alternated filling the bowl with cereal and milk; if I finished the cereal before the milk, I'd add more. Likewise, I'd pour more milk if the milk ran out before the cereal. I could go through half a box of cereal that way. Corn Flakes and Puffed Rice were my "drugs" of choice.

Now, I keep a box of Cheerios around (I eat a handful of them as a snack and for fiber), but I don't drink milk because if I started eating cereal and milk, I could be right back where I was in elementary school.

Some believe there are two types of eaters: compulsive overeaters and so-called "normal" eaters. Normal eaters stop when they're full, and while they might overindulge during the holidays, they shed the extra weight after New Year's through dieting and exercise.

The food manufacturing industry experienced increased sales during COVID when some normal eaters, fueled by cabin fever, were bingeing on Oreos and pizza. Harvard Health reports that the "COVID 15" weight gain is real. According to the report, 39% of the 15 million sampled reported weight gain during the pandemic. So I participated in my share of isolation and stress eating and probably gained the COVID 15.

So, where did the girl in those photos get the idea she was fat? At what point did she enter the on-ramp to a less-than-positive body image? I've thought about this and cannot pinpoint anything specific that might have triggered it. 

Maybe it was the pervasiveness of the beauty myth or the fact that I was already a young adult when the Women's Movement hit. I don't know. I do know that my oldest sister (I was the youngest of three girls) was an overweight child who had to shop at a particular clothing store for "chubby" girls.

I spent a significant portion of my adult life holding in my stomach. I must have learned it from somewhere, and to this day, at 71, I catch myself doing it occasionally. It's a way of making myself smaller and body shaming.

A 12-step program for overeaters cautions members to be aware of eating triggers via the acronym HALT by asking yourself if you're eating because you're hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. I've certainly been known to eat when I'm frustrated or angry. Likewise, I've used food when feeling lonely or a lack of friends. 

Food, a constant in my life, has always been there for me. I overate during a difficult marriage, in graduate school, while adjusting to several relocations, upon losing loved ones, and when stressed from jobs. It's been instructive to learn about myself, and it's helped me grow.

Like many women, I've spent too much time concerned about how I appear to men and fearing judgment and rejection. I spent my teenage years worried about how I looked to boys and wondering when I'd be asked out. 

I married at 22, divorced 24 years later at 46, and have been divorced for 25 years. I spent my married life with a man who expressed dissatisfaction and disappointment with my appearance. Yet, for years after my divorce, I valued how desirable I was to men.

Only in the past few years have I felt comfortable not being a part of the dating world. As a result, I've taken myself off the market. As a well-known 80-year-old actress said recently, "I've closed up shop down there." I no longer pursue dates nor care what men think of my body. 

If someone has a problem with how I look, it's their issue — not mine. (The program for overeaters that I referred to earlier has a saying: "What other people think of me is none of my business.") Sure, I sometimes catch myself sucking in my stomach, but awareness is the first step in change, and old habits die hard.

I've got a few close friends who've got my back, a career I'm good at, and I pursue my creative endeavors and hobbies with joy. I no longer desire to participate in dating, and I've released myself from seeking a romantic relationship. I've stopped wearing makeup and try to love myself regardless of how much space I take up. I'm mindful of ignoring toxic ads, especially those focusing on fashion or the beauty industry.

I still struggle with my relationship with food, and exercise can be challenging. Fortunately, I'm in pretty good health, despite carrying some excess pounds. My blood pressure and cholesterol are normal, and I don't have diabetes. In addition, I quit smoking in 1978 and don't drink alcohol or use drugs.

While I wish I'd realized some 50 years earlier that my body doesn't exist to please others, it's better late than never.