(*TRIGGER WARNING* — diet culture in college)

This post is an excerpt from my journal on 05/31/2021:

I just snapped on my mom about a bagel. I don’t know WTF it us, but bagels, for years, were a fear food of mine. A food that was reserved for “naturally thin” people. I looked at bagels as a food that beautiful girls were allowed to eat and something that wasn’t for me. I looked at my fit, ridiculously athletic little sister (who I swear came out of the womb with a six-pack) and thought she could enjoy them, but I would never be able to eat like her.

I can’t even tell if I LIKE bagels. One part of me wants to avoid them simply in hopes of evading feelings of anxiety, guilt, or shame. Another part of me is genuinely curious as to what foods better fuel my body and support longevity. On another hand, something about a fresh New York bagel sends shivers down my spine. Some days, eating a bagel comes without a second thought. Other days, my mom repeats a few times that I just eat the other half of my bagel and I’m ready to POUNCE, feeling unfamiliar degrees of embarrassment, projecting onto her that she thinks that I really didn’t need that bagel. I snapped on her, but I really wanted to snap on myself.

I HATE, HATE, HATE that I have days or stretches of time where I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. It messes with my joy, my intuition, and my relationships. At its root, my struggle with body image threatens my sense of self-worth, so, my aversion to those feelings of guilt and shame manifests as the resistance that prevents me from feeling, and then HEALING. I never want people to know that I’m struggling, which of course just amplifies my embarrassment and unchecked ego.

After feelings kinda funky in my own skin this past semester, I weighed myself when I got home. As I stepped onto the scale, I realized that whatever number showed up wouldn’t matter. The weight of deriving an significant fraction of my self-esteem from a plastic square is WAY F*CKING HEAVIER than any weight I might’ve gained. The number on the scale, which truthfully, I rarely glance at, doesn’t magically absolve me of my body dysmorphia, negative self talk, or at-times dicey relationship with food.

The HEAVIEST freaking thing I’ve been carrying around was my FEAR of the “freshman fifteen” or the “sorority forty".”

And, it’s not my fault. Those shadows or fears of mine were trying to protect me. Our society promotes fatphobia. We glorify “skinny.” I can’t say that I haven’t thought my life would be enhanced if only I were thinner or taller or blonder… you get the picture.

We all just really want to love and to be loved. Our world today can easily convince us that we’re lacking or that there’s not enough to go around, but, with love, there’s always more where that came from. No weight, GPA, dress size, or bank account balance guarantees happiness.

Picking on my appearance is a bad habit I fall into when I am struggling with the unknown. I’m learning how to dig myself out of it, though. Not to say that I’ll never eradicate my rumbles with body image, but, because they have been so persistent, it’s less of a matter of conquering my insecurities and more of a mission to give them less airtime. We have a choice over what we give the microphone to in our lives.

Learning to give myself grace, to lean on my faith and spiritual practices, and to keep getting up and fighting on when I’m “face down in the arena,” as Brené Brown calls it in her newest book Rising Strong is a journey I will continue to navigate. I won’t skip the process. I trust in it. This life is filled with lessons that can only be learning by going through it sometimes.

So, when I want to shrink or I lose all sense of hunger cues because I’m so wrapped up in my own insecurities, it’s time to debunk the myth that it’s really my weight that’s bothering me. I point out that my inner b*tch is being extra loud today, and I try to say kinder things to myself. I remind myself that these feelings are temporary, try to spend less time on social media, throw on my comfiest clothes, and do what I can to treat my body right. Our bodies are worthy of love, celebration, and rest, just the way they are. We will not hate ourselves into healthier bodies or better lives. We LOVE ourselves into situations that are in alignment with us embodying our authentic selves.

F*CK ALL THE NOISE. Or, as Lisa Hayim says, F*RK THE NOISE. You’re doing your f*cking best. As am I. I figure, if I am going to go out there and be the main f*cking character, and have that hot girl (single <3) summer, and LOVE MYSELF AND MY BLESSED, PRECIOUS AF LIFE, I better get out there and do it. So, that means leaving behind the weight of societal pressures and stepping into every inch of my vessel for this lifetime. I hope you’ll join me.

With love, fi