Dinner for a Fat Girl (or, Taking Control and Beating My Eating Disorder into Submission)

I just had a chicken Caesar salad for dinner. No croutons. Romaine lettuce. Parmesan cheese.

I did not eat this salad because I have bought into the media's lie that I must keep myself thin to please the menfolk. I did not eat this salad because I was feeling guilty about my eating habits, because I felt I needed to be "a good girl". I did not eat this salad to be physically healthy. I did not eat this salad to prove to others that I'm not like "all the other fat people," that I have self-control.

I ate that salad because I like Caesar salad, and I like chicken, and I don't like croutons.

For dessert, I am having a fudge brownie. I am not eating this fudge brownie because I had an upsetting conversation with someone and need to eat my feelings. I am not having this fudge brownie because I lack self-control. I'm not having this fudge brownie because I'm "a bad girl". I am not "rewarding" myself for being "good" by having a salad for dinner.

I'm eating this brownie because I like brownies, and it tastes good, and I wanted it.

And later I may have some ice cream. Or more veggies. Who knows. All I do know is that whatever I choose to eat, I am making the right choice for myself.