The first thing out of my tutor's mouth was, "Hi, you've gained weight!"
UM.
"Oh...really?"
"Yes."
She probably saw the horror/shock/disdain in my face because she quickly tried to coat it with, "It's okay. You look healthy."
Healthy. I can't say I even remember how or when I was brainwashed to associate that term with feelings of guilt, paranoia, and self-consciousness. When did being a healthy woman become a negative thing?
But lo and behold, I sat there, for the rest of my 90 minute lesson, not able to concentrate on a damn thing she was saying.
When did I gain weight?
Should I tell her maybe I gained it because my mother has been very ill and I had to go home for a while to take care of her?
Or that my father's brother recently died of cancer and I've been very stressed?
Or that it might be from my multiple medications?
Or that maybe I've been eating more froyo because it's summer and I can walk to a Yogurtland?
Where did I gain weight?
My stomach? *Grips stomach
My thighs? *Grips thighs
My arms? *Jiggles arms to check for "tricep" fat
Oh God, my face?!
While she was teaching me how to say, "No I don't like to read. I am married. How is your aunt?" All I could repeat was, "I'M FAT. "I'M FAT." "HOW DO YOU SAY I'M FAT IN FARSI?!"
I proceeded my day with frustration, tears, and starving myself. I asked everyone at work, "Please be honest, have I gained weight?" I stared at myself for 30 minutes in the mirror, poking and prodding. And I, admittedly, frantically did squats in my shower that evening.
Let's look at some facts:
FACT: This was only the second time I'd seen that woman in my life.
FACT: I was wearing XS pants when she gave me the news.
FACT: She did not mean it in a judgmental way, and I KNEW that. I proceeded to take it in such a way that it ruined me for the remainder of the day, and honestly, that's on me, not her.
If I've gained weight, then I have. And if I haven't gained weight, then I haven't. And it's so simple to look at another woman and say, "They are comfortable in their own skin and that is all that matters." I feel that way about many friends and actresses I look up to. If this had been a friend who had received this news, I would be the first to say, "Screw that woman, you're beautiful, let's go find the nearest slice of pie." Why are we not that friend to ourselves?
Society and the media already put an incredible amount of pressure on women to fit a certain mold, look a certain way. And maybe because I'm in the entertainment industry, I feel that pressure to the tenth degree. But I wanted to share this experience with others because I am ashamed. Not ashamed at the possibility that I have put on a few pounds or whatever, I am ashamed at my reaction, my overreaction, to that.
Because, frankly, I should know better.
I should know better because, admittedly, I sadly spent an entire summer eating nothing but a small bowl of rice and a can of Coke, while doing 1000 sit-ups daily. It was the summer between middle school and high school and I dropped to an unhealthy 83 pounds, just to come back to school more appealing to boys who had taunted me for crushing on them the year before. If I hadn't made the volleyball team and been required to have more strength, energy, and meat on my bones, I'm not sure where that madness would have led me.
I should know better because at my heaviest, I have been 129 pounds. And there are women who deal with obesity and actual weight issues who probably fucking wish they could be 129 pounds and I sound like a completely ignorant moron.
I should know better because I consider myself a strong woman, who applauds, uplifts, and encourages the endeavors of like-minded women, and my actions/thoughts/behavior towards myself that day did not reflect those of such.
I went to a new spin class the following morning, where the students were all women, and the teacher was so incredibly positive and just shouting affirmations at us to repeat back while we worked out.
"You're the author of your own book!"
"You're the captain of your own ship!"
"Do not let ANYONE, including YOURSELF, make you believe otherwise!"
"Tell that little voice who's egging you on, bringing you down, TO SHUT THE HELL UP!"
"You.Are.The.Fucking.Shit!"
It might have been the endorphins, but man, I found myself, screaming "I'm the fucking shit!" while on that 45 minute bike ride, and I hopped off that bike feeling great, feeling confident, feeling ME.
I took a photo afterwards to remind me to tell myself to, "shut the hell up" when that negative voice wants to feed off little remarks and puny thoughts, and replace it with, "You rock that bod, sista!" (Or something a little less cheesy)
Listen, us women gotta have our backs -- each other's and our own.
Cheers to being mentally, emotionally, and physically, HEALTHY.
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