After my last rant here, which was a fairly straggly summary of the inside of my head, I think I may have made a little progress on how I feel about my body. I’m still at the stage in fat acceptance of believing that it makes perfect sense for everyone else that there is nothing wrong with being fat – and I do not mean that in a damning-with-faint-praise kind of “nothing wrong” instead that there genuinely isn’t anything bad, lazy, unhealthy or in any way intrinsically negative about being fat – except for me. Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s where self-hatred meets narcissism. And about as rational as thinking that buzzing noise is bees trapped in the wall.
But today I was thinking that if another person never had to see or touch me again then I’m okay with my body the way it is just now. Really, just now. All 17-ish stone (240-ish pounds) of me. There’s been a few times when I’ve changed my mind about things (previously accepted Set In Granite Facts) that have been prompted about thinking about my pets’ bodies. One of my old girls had an operation on Friday and thinking about the changes in her body as she ages made me think about how well I’ve done by my own. My bladder works and I can pee whenever I want. That is damn convenient in the society I live in. Same for bowels. I can walk and get around the ubiquitous steps (seriously, until it was pointed out to me I never noticed, what is with all the fucking steps everywhere?) with relative ease. This isn’t a case of “well I’m fat, but at least I’m not physically disabled!” Putting down a group of people to raise my own status is just frankly stupid because it’s based on untrue assumptions about people who have physical disabilities and therefore undermines me when I am trying to be rational. Also basing your own self-esteem on being ‘one-up’ or ‘better than’ someone else is just going to teach you the hard way that people really are equal. No, what I mean is that my new interest in seeing the things my body has done for me made me feel a little gratitude towards my body. Rather than focusing on its/my defects and weaknesses I suddenly did see that it/me has some good points.
As someone who has the down the cliched eating disorder exercise of “list the things you like about your body” and only come up with “I have okay eyelashes” then I think I’m getting somewhere.
ETA: The clumsy use of pronouns when talking about my body is actually kind of intentional. I have problems in that area and will post about it as soon as I can drag myself out of the existential mud.