Possibly triggering – some diet/weight-loss talk.
I don’t own scales.
I haven’t done so for a long time now. There were a pair in the laundry in the house I lived in in Japan, but they didn’t work properly. In my current house, there are some in the downstairs bathroom, but I live upstairs.
So I haven’t weighed myself, in, oh, at least six months. Because it triggers me. I slip back into self-loathing, disordered eating thoughts.
Last night I was at a friends house drinking cheap wine and watching silly movies. I went to the bathroom, and there’s a pair of scales.
And I stupidly weighed myself. I’ve gained approximately ten kilos since leaving Japan. And straightaway my mind went to “If you just go on that shake diet again, you’ll drop ten kilos in two months! Then you’ll be back to normal!” And somehow that thought seemed okay, because if I lost ten kilos, I’d still be deathfat.
Not gonna lie, the temptation was overwhelming.
I’m still learning how to be a size acceptance activist, and it’s constant struggle to fight against those ingrained thought patterns. Even as I type this, there’s a little voice in the back of my mind reminding how easy it was diet when I last worked in an office. And there’s an underlying fear that no matter how much I do or don’t diet, I’m just going to keep gaining weight.
I know, objectively, that diets don’t work. I went on my first diet at 79 kilograms just on ten years ago, and I now weigh 114 kilos. Throughout that time, I’ve dieted, restricted, binged, and purged.
It doesn’t work. I know this.
Every day is a struggle. So every day I read Notes From The Fatosphere, every day I read Fatshionista, and every day I try and surrond myself with people who love me for who I am, and who are as passionate about acceptance as I am.