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I guess I should start being clever now and not just use dates….

August 28, 2009

Hey, kids. As of 11 am this morning, I am done with all big assignments for two weeks! Whoo hoo! Handed in my Creative Advertising research paper on a research method (I wish I was kidding) and my Communications Theory and Practice essay on the phrase ‘the medium is the message.’ Lame, but dooooooone.

So I’ve been dipping my toe a wee bit further into the blogoshpere (the proof is in the links to the side!), and am really getting into those blogs that deal with fat/size/body acceptance, since, you know, that’s kind of my thing (or will be once I have that awesome degree that shows everyone that I can think and stuff). There are several reasons that I’ve become so interested in this cause, the primary reason being that I’m really sick of not being able deal with looking in mirrors. Please, don’t take this as some cry for help, because most women really loathe what they see themselves as. But I got sick of it. How am I supposed to be happy if I’m constantly miserable not just in my own skin, but with my own skin?

Whenever I make a big transition, I tend to focus a lot of energy negatively toward my body, and so, when I moved to Australia, I did one of those much-less-than-healthy mentality shifts. Honestly, it’s hard to feel like you’ve lost your carefully crafted support system, especially when you aren’t the best at going out and making instant friends with tons of people. Well, it’s not anyone else’s fault that I had no one to really help me deal with this transition, so I turned it all inward. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything stupid. Just sat in my room a lot feeling sorry for myself.

One day, I decided to get up and do something about my self-image. I strapped on a pair of sneakers, tossed on a sports bra and went for a run for the first time in probably over a year. And it was totally miserable. I hate running, but decided to covince myself that I enjoy it. I ran, then sat by a pond and watched sunset, then came home and stared at myself in the mirror for a while. This happened everyday for a week, but I still didn’t feel any better. So I decided to wake up early and do two runs in a day. Then I’d see a difference, right? Well, I hate mornings more than running, so that didn’t work out so well. I was still unhappy in my fat and it was starting to effect my ability to function as a student.

Then I found the Rotund on accident when I was at the library, and realized why I was so unhappy, even though I was finally starting exercise. I was running to change who I am, to become something else on a purely superficial level. That’s just not okay. All that does is highlight to me what I’m not, and, frankly, as someone who wants to change the standard of beauty set up by the fashion industry, it made me really not like who I was on an internal level, too.

So I re-assessed why I do the things that I do. I decided that I’m not going to run to lose weight and look good (and by ‘good,’ I mean ‘standard ideal good’), but rather I am going to run because I was a heavy smoker for a over a year and my heart and lngs could use the boost. Also because if the zombocolypse is coming, I need to be better at running quickly and for long periods of time.

Notice that I’ve used the word ‘decided’ to talk about these changes. There’s no way that after only a month, I actually totally body-positive and happy to be who I am aesteticlly. I mean, really, I’m still a female-type person raised in American society. But I’m willing my mind to change, and talking myself through all of the reasons why the default way of thinking is wrong. I’ve already convinced myself that I actually like running. The other day, I did a full circuit and a half on my usual route, and I have to say felt more proud of myself that I can remember feeling in months. And I actually didn’t think ‘Good, I can run farther and burn more calories!’ I thought, ‘Wow, I’ve never done that before! Awesome.’

I’m not saying that I’ve fixed myself, because, really, no one ever does that all the way. But I’m taking the steps, and it’s starting to work. Sure, I still have those days where I just can’t deal with myself, but they are less frequent, and I can think my way out of them given enough time. Yeah, I still have those ‘if I was 2 sizes smaller, I’d really be happy’ days, but I know that this logic is just wrong. I won’t be happy if I’m 2 sizes smaller, because they’ll always be another 2 sizes to lose. So when those thoughts happen, I fake the body-positive attitude. It’s what the Rotund describes as being in limbo. That stage between embarking on body acceptance and actually accepting your body (as well as others).

I’m not done with this mission, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be, but I’m starting, I’m learning, and, most importantly, I’m actually doing something about my problems, and it feels exciting.

Now I’m off to pack for a night in Brisbane =]

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One comment

  1. I’m super proud of you, roomie. Keep up the excellent work!



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