• entries
    25
  • comments
    61
  • views
    2,005

Countdown

Sign in to follow this  
nimiety

232 views

So, I've looked up and found myself in the countdown-to-200 portion of things. I weighed 203 this morning. 

A ton of stuff is happening in my life right now, much of it stuff I'm not ready to talk about here yet, but even through all that stuff, which has me spread a little thin and a lot distracted, that number's got me focusing on it. It sticks in the head. It's sort of some childhood dividing line, maybe. It's a myth. It's an outdated idea. I blew through it circa age 14 and then I learned how fungible were the numbers you said you'd never cross. How little that counts. 

I'm still doing this thing right now where I'm hovering between plus sizes and straight sizes, dancing around on a line that's hard to see and understand that has so much also to do with stigma, with social categories, with visibility, with femininity. When I walk around in the world I don't know what size I am. I feel simultaneously like I have so far to go and like I want to stop right now. 

But there it is: 200. Below it, the girl you were supposed to be. Above it, the woman you became. (Brigid Berlin: "My mother wanted me to be a slim, respectable socialite. Instead, I became an overweight troublemaker.")

My therapist pointed out to me yesterday that I love the woman I became more than the girl I was supposed to be, that even as I find myself with the greatest access I've ever had to the version of "slim, respectable socialite" with which I grew up, the quasi-creative white-collar job and the husband with the same kind of job and the dinner parties and the chitchat and maybe the kids you'll probably send to private school even though you have political qualms about it but honestly they have to get into college, I am also leaning the hardest into my own desire to be a spinster, a free spirit, a revolutionary, an art monster, a weirdo. She's right, and I appreciate having that pointed out to me. I was always so afraid of not being able to make my own decisions. When WLS was first being authorized for teenagers, in the late '90s, which is when I was one, the New Yorker did a piece on it and I nabbed the issue of the magazine so that my father couldn't read it. I thought if he read about it, I'd end up on the table whether I wanted to or not. (I had no idea whether I wanted to or not.) I have, historically, not really understood my ability to make my own decisions. There are a lot of reasons for this vacuum, in my life, where agency ought to have been palpable. But none of them are really the point.

The point is that I feel it now. When I walk into the room full of people whose bodies and social selves intimidate and entice me in equal measure, even when I feel like it's not my body preventing me from being one of them, I'm still not one of them. Not in the digital media room. Not in the art room. Not in the sense of absorption that I fear. Not in the sense of being claimed, being stuck, being colonized, being coopted. Something stubborn and tenacious in me says no, rolls its eyes at the ill-informed views on Syria no matter how glamorous their speaker. 

Which means that over 200 or under it, I am still running this show. The world won't absorb me unless I choose to be absorbed. 

I get to choose who to be. My way. 

Which means that being under 200 doesn't seem like such a big deal, honestly. I mean, today, anyway. I might still have a meltdown of some variety when I see a number that starts with a 1. No promises.

Sign in to follow this  


1 Comment


Recommended Comments

Beautifully written! How many of us have set those lines we wont cross? I told myself a "hard stop" was 230 (I was 220 when I first realized just how much weight Id gained after college. I thought it was 30 pounds. Nope, it was 60). Then the hard stop was 250. Then 270...and on and on and on.

I totally feel you on the husband and kids and life. I love my husband and we want kids, but I also feel like its kind of a trap of societal implications. I find myself already researching schools in the area and thinking about college savings funds, when I don't even know if I'll get pregnant. I don't want to pay for a private school and the weird things that brings along, but the local schools are atrocious, unless I want to move to an area with taxes higher than the federal poverty line. Ugh. I can't imagine how much bigger that reality is after you actually have the kids!

All that said - you're so close to 200! And it's been so long. And its  your decisions, your actions that brought it here. It both is and isn't a big deal, but that doesn't mean it can't mean something. 

Congrats on your progess!

Share this comment


Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now