embarrassed

On my first week of the Diet Thing, I lost 3.6 pounds. This is a great thing! A thing of which I am proud. I worked hard, and I ate goodlike, and I earned every one of those pounds and fractions of pounds, huzzah.

And I called up my best friend on my cell phone, on my way back from the meeting, and I found myself whispering about it.

"Hey!" I said. "Hey! Guess what? I lost three point six pounds." My jaw was all clenched, and I think I was trying to not move my lips in case there were lip readers near by.

"What?" he said, crunching something that was probably not carrot sticks. I sighed.

"I SAID I lost three point six pounds!"

"You did what to the pound?" Crunch.

"I am doing the thing, right, that I told you about?"

"What thing?"

"The thing. You know! Where I am being, uh, less."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

I was calling someone with my great news, my excellent news, my news of which I should be proud, and I could not just come out and say it, in public, because I was embarrassed. Embarrassed. I was afraid someone would overhear, and look me up and down, and say to themselves "good luck, fat chick."

This is something that I've been struggling with, in its permutations, forever. I almost never come out and admit (and look at me say "admit!" all unconsciously like that) that I am on a diet, that I am going to the gym and trying to be a Healthier Me. As if it's a ridiculous thing for someone who is overweight to bother, as if I have become the living embodiment (ha ha! that was a pun! Sigh) or the poster child for pipe dreams. As if it is a sad thing for someone who is overweight to try to do something about it.

I think about it every time I am at the gym, pounding the Precor (does anyone think this is funny?), and every time I am in line at the grocery store, with my pile of vegetables and weight watchers delicious ice cream dessert treats (does anyone think this is sad?) and every time I walk into a clothing store (does anyone wonder why I bother?).

God, I do it when I meet someone new, when I'm afraid that whomever it is is worried that the fat chick will take a shine to them – I make a point to bring up Guy. To say, metaphorically, I am not interested in you, do not worry!

Jesus.

And I'm not really sure what I can do about it. I'm not sure there's a whole lot to be done – it's hard, living inside a body you are not friends with, and fucked up, living inside a body image that is so fraught with unpleasant associations you've made up yourself, and the unpleasant prejudices that sure, exist – you see them everywhere – but you can't help assigning them, willy-nilly to everyone you meet, unfairly and not.

I am new to this weight loss blog thing – I did not realize it was a cottage industry until I started my own, started reading just a fraction of the ones that are already out there, started getting your really wonderful comments which man, are so appreciated – this is a community kind of thing and it amazes me as I sort of situate myself in it and get settled in. Everyone is brave and strong talking about their bodies and their struggles and their successes and posting pictures and stats and I admire that and I can't do it.

I cannot tell you I started off weighing this, and now I weigh this. I can't post a picture of me looking a way I wish I never did. I can't be honest about it, even here in the anonymity of my website. Does that ever go away? I hope it goes away. I hate that it probably won't go away until I lose weight – that I can't be comfortable here, where I am, how I am.

This entry was posted by anne, on Tuesday, February 01, 2005. You can leave your response.