There is this horrible midpoint between beautiful and beautiful in two different cultures: the aboveworld culture of the beauty myth, thin is in, etc, and the underworld of fat admiration. I am at that midpoint. Camryn Manheim*, apparently, is at that midpoint. At the midpoint, you're 'too fat' for the aboveworld, and 'not fat enough' for the underworld. It seems that the people who like girls my size are few and far between.
And yes, I specify women, because for men it seems not to matter. I wouldn't know, I'm not a fat man (not biologically, at any rate), but it really seems that fat men have an easier time getting dates than fat women do. My dad has had no problem securing three wives and five million girlfriends in his lifetime, and there was never a time when he was 'skinny' (except pre-puberty, but that doesn't really count, now does it?). In fact, the rather portly countenance of my father and his mother are, I'm sure, what I inherited.
Now, I'm not at all blaming genetics on my weight. I know that it's psychosis, years of self-hate and abuse, and depression that has contributed to the size I am now. So no, it's not the fault of my DNA. But my genes are a factor, like it or not. Just as my genes for soft teeth are a factor in my having several cavities and one gold tooth, and just as my genes for bad fucking luck are a factor in my wisdom teeth choosing to come in underneath my middle molars.
Like it or not, I'm big, and like it or not, I'll never ever be smaller than a size 12. (Come to think of it, I wouldn't want to be. My mother thinks I could be a size 10, but that's just too much work. I'll be happy with a 14.)
Yes, my body is huge, yes, I'm a fucking fat-ass, and I wouldn't consider myself pretty. The first two points I'm making are facts that I have accepted, and the third is 1/2 self-hate and 1/2 "Yeah, I wouldn't date me."
Regardless, the self-hate is still huge, still there. It's what fueled my anorexia and made me lose twenty pounds (which I gained back at the slightest whiff of acceptance in Guatemala, where they like women no matter what size). It is what forces me to go to the gym when I'm exhausted and push myself beyond my limits. It's what makes me choose a salad, or no food at all.
These are, in my view, good things. I need to lose this weight. Not for the beauty myth, the non-existent perfect body, or for the purpose of landing a boyfriend (though that would be a welcome side-effect). No, I need to lose this weight because I will most likely die if I don't. Yes. It's sad and it's true. I'm 18 and I'm facing serious health problems because of my weight. I can feel the near-heart attacks coming on, and when I throw out my back or my hip or my knee, I know it's not because of my joints because I drank a fuck of a lot of milk as a kid---it's because of my weight.
Being 128 pounds overweight is no small deal. It is a very big deal. And while I am this weight, I can't have kids, because the dangers already inherent in pregnancy combined with the dangers I now face would irreperably damage my health. I can't get lipo, either suction or selection, because doing so would make pregnancy impossible. Bit of a Catch-22, or it would be if I didn't have another option.
Yes, good old-fashioned working out, eating right, staying fit, and losing weight naturally.
Of course I can't do that normally. I have to do it my way.
So I got a membership at 24-hr Fitness and now go to the gym at 2 in the morning, after eating maybe 500-1000 calories a day. (Remember: 1200 calories/day is a starvation diet.)
*Incidentally, Camryn Manheim is amazing, beautiful, smart, and a wonderful actress, and anyone who thinks otherwise can answer to me and my Feminist!Fist of Death.
Besides this whole 'horrible midpoint' thing, I do believe that there is something else that prevents people from loving me. Or from being close enough to me to love me without fear.
I've thought this for a while, and it was only after hearing it from someone else other than my mom that I really started to believe it.
It's my passion. My utterly raw enthusiasm for life or whatever else I fling myself at. (That includes depression.) If I do film, I do so with abandon, throwing everything I have into that piece of work to make it spectacular. If it's classes, I work my ass off. If it's a relationship, I scare my partner.
And I think that people see this coming before they see anything else. Even if I try to be demure and muted in order to get to the next phase of courtship, it wears off very quickly and the person leaves in interest of calmer, more controllable prospects.
Because let's get one thing straight: I will not be controlled. And I can't be calm. I try to be calm. But something excites me and whoops! There went that plan. So I just have to be myself and hope that someone who is male, likes girls, and is single will appreciate me and love me for who I am.
... ... ... ...
So a life of solitude it is, then.
And yes, I am fucking bitter about this: the shit that people spew about personality and smarts mattering more than the body size/type/looks (you know--mind over matter). It's BULLSHIT. Utter bullshit. The people who say this are in denial. They will indeniably go for a certain type, because it's in our natures.
I, for one, prefer girls who are shorter than I am, and skinnier (and who isn't?); I prefer guys who are tall and slender---but these are just preferences. Possibly completely overridden in favor of personality and brains and sense of humor. As well, totally possible for me to find people who don't 'fit' my preferences as totally gorgeous and attractive. It's not set in stone.
But at least I acknowledge my preferences. I acknowledge that yes, I am human, and yes, I have likes and dislikes. But they're not even written down in spiritual law, much less engraven in stone.
Most people don't. They don't acknowledge their preferences. They pretend they don't care, and then when asked why they won't go out with someone, they'll give bullshit answers: "She's not my type," (how can you have a type if you won't acknowledge your types?) or "I'm going to become a monk and have taken a vow of celibacy." Which is pure bullshit for someone who's 17. I can't believe I fell for it.
You know what? Stop telling me it's not about body size for you. Stop that line. Stop telling me that you care much more about personality, because it's obviously not true: I've been single for four years and you apparently like my personality enough to be my friend, but not my S.O. Tell you what: for once, be fucking honest, and maybe when I see you act differently, I'll consider believing the mind/matter line.
But for now, don't even fucking bother.
