Thin It to Win It

By skenmy, Flickr, Creative Commons.

Self-portrait.

“Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”

Kate Moss said this a few years ago. She pissed off a lot of people.

Sorry folks, but I’m siding with her on this one.

There are very few things in the world that feel better than skinny. And those few things are not food-related.

I should know. Because, for my entire life, I’ve been thin.

I’ve wanted to write about this for a while. But I didn’t because I was afraid of being hated. And, to avoid it, I momentarily considered writing this post as a weight loss story.

Six years ago, I weighed 175 pounds. I shed 40 pounds after a break-up. And, with the exception of minor gains and losses over the years, I’ve kept it off.

But that angle would have been deceiving.

Even though the numbers are true, I was never fat or even chubby. When I was at my “heaviest” someone told me I looked like a marathon runner. And I didn’t try to lose weight. I just threw my life into a crisis and lost my appetite.

But had I written this post as “the girl who lost weight” rather than “that skinny bitch who never gains a pound” I could back Moss’s statement full-force without any consequence.

The girl with the weight loss would be cheered when describing how fantastic it feels to throw on a dress, look in the mirror, and love how it looks.

When I write that, however, I’m a jerk.

So I guess I’ll be a jerk and spill it all.

I love being thin. LOVE it.

Who wouldn’t?

When I see people I haven’t run into in ten years, I never have to worry about that person judging me for my weight. If anything, I’m assured that they are marveling at my skinny arms.

When I’m feeling self-conscious about my crummy little car or my less-than-50k-per-year career or my bad manners, I always take comfort in knowing that I’ve been successful at something. And it happens to be the something that so many people can’t seem to manage.

I know Lou loves being with a thin woman. Mostly because I know I look great and he rarely has to manage a self-esteem melt-down.

I enjoy shopping for bikinis.

If I’m hungry and I want to chow down on a good meal, I fucking go for it. And I don’t care what other people think of me as I do it. Why not? Because I’m thinner than they are.

And, yes, I throw on a dress, look in the mirror, and love how it looks. I even twirl and dance and pose. This happens frequently.

It feels great.

Now, here’s the part where someone who hates me for being thin tells me that I don’t understand how tough it is because I’m tall and I have a kick-butt metabolism and blah blah blah.

It’s true. I don’t understand how tough it is to lose weight.

But, I do understand how tough it is to stay thin.

I don’t eat meat. In fact, I don’t eat much, to be honest.

Breakfast is coffee and a Luna bar. Lunch is a handful of cherry tomatoes, fat free cottage cheese, and crackers. I eat a big meal for dinner, but it’s vegetarian so I don’t have to sweat the portion.

When someone in the office brings in donuts, cake, or cookies, I don’t eat them.

I never, ever order dessert. Ever.

Oh, and I also hike.

Sure, feeling hungry from time to time is uncomfortable (and if it gets to the place where it hurts, I drink a Low Sodium V8 as a snack). I’m not going to lie, there are times on the trail where I want to jump off the cliff just to end the pain of cardio.

And, dammit, I miss bacon.

But, then I think about twirling in the mirror.

There’s just not enough bacon in the world that will make me give that up.

Caveat: At the risk of sounding insensitive to people who actually have medical problems or terrible metabolisms…I’m talking about the people who gain weight even though they eat healthy and work out…my heart goes out to you, it really does. That’s just a shit gig.

16 thoughts on “Thin It to Win It

  1. I think this is brilliant. Years of hearing people talk about how difficult it is to be overweight, to battle obesity, to love cupcakes too much…it’s about time that someone took this topic on from the other side.

    • It’s a tricky subject…dangerous territory. But I’ve always felt pressure to keep my mouth shut about weight management because people automatically assume it’s effortless for me. Well, it’s not. Thanks for reading, sir!

  2. I think the only hesitation I have in agreeing 100% with this post is that being thin is not critical or healthy in some cases. It concerns me that so much value is placed on being ‘skinny’ and attractive when I look in the face of 3.. soon to be 4 children. What do I want to teach them about their bodies and the value that they have? I agree those that overindulge and complain, shouldn’t be jealous of those that work to maintain a certain physique – and achieve it. You know me – I value my health and work to be athletic and healthy AND a hot mom (when not pregnant!) I want my children to value HEALTH and not worry about body image or being thin. I want them to value their insides too and I think sometimes that is ever harder. You should appreciate being thin – just don’t assume that everyone wants to be that way – or is jealous because they aren’t. And if I saw you 10 years from now — I would think nothing of your body (unless you had gained HUNDREDS) – I would think of you and Lou and how much your relationship has inspired me and what you mean to me — how THIN you are (though an accomplishment) makes no difference to me – I think you have WAY more to offer then skinny arms :)

    • I’m positive that if I had a more athletic build, this post would be all about how much I love being buff. (Honestly, I’m often envious of women who have muscle because they look totally awesome and powerful…the few times I’ve managed to put on muscle, I flex in the mirror instead of twirl.) Really, having the restraint to resist temptation and then the determination to hit a trail make me feel good about myself emotionally. And I’m lucky because it also makes me look good. They play off each other…but, as much as I’d like to be above the vanity, I’m not. So, it’s really a chicken or egg situation for me! As far as kids go, I think my mother was the BEST example for living healthy. She has a farm mentality about the whole thing: eat balanced meals, dessert on special occasions, eat when hungry, stop when full. Unless, of course, we didn’t finish our dinner…then she’d let us starve through the night! But, that might be another blog post. And, Briney, I’m sure your kids will love their insides as much as their outsides! With a hot mom like you, how could they not?

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  4. Wait…. Where’s the “I hate you comment,” you refer to in your recent post? As my first read of this made me feel I’d like to punch you in the ovaries for this vanity. It’s essentially kin to saying “I like being rich, you poor-ass mother-$&@&er.” I just couldn’t be bothered to waste 5 minutes to post until I saw you got other people annoyed. Eating a handful of veggies is by no means a “woe is me,” moment but rather “I’m a crazy anorexic living in a body I pretend not to be anorexic in.” Don’t worry… As I can’t punch your reproductive capabilities, your ass will spread when you squeeze some pups out. If it doesn’t, oldness will crap out your metabolism. 5 handful of cherry tomatoes will turn into 1. Enjoy.
    If you’re going to censor followed by censure on your blog, what’s the point????

  5. I was sent this blog by a friend who was outraged by the author’s “Fuck you, I’m thin & awesome” rantings. Initially, I skimmed it, became bored, and ultimately didn’t read the entire post. You just didn’t capture my attention. However, this same conversation came up and I was forced to recall the snippets I read from your post. Here’s the thing, it’s ok to think you are thin and fucking fantastic. That’s great. Confidence is a plus. But I don’t think you are a confident person, or you wouldn’t have chosen to blog about something as classless as the above. Making comments about NOT having to worry about what people from ten years ago would think of you is a beacon of your insecurities. If you really think you’re so fantastic, you wouldn’t give two fucks about running into anyone. Ever. Because you’re the Shit, even when you look like shit. Right? Are you following my logic here? Then you blabber on about how you don’t understand weight loss or dieting because you’ve never had to do it….but you can relate to the difficulty of staying thin because, wait for it…this is my favorite part: YOU DON’T EAT?!? I’m certainly not a medical expert, but shouldn’t something in your mind say, “Fuck, I don’t eat. I think there’s something wrong with me. Maybe the years of starving my body have caused my brain to glitch into some insane vanity mode and pollute the internet with trite blog posts.” If I were your family, this blog post would force me to call an intervention. Lilia – it’s OK to eat. You can still eat and feel beautiful. You can still eat and feel thin. You shouldn’t be curbing your appetite with sodium-free V-8. No doctor would tell you this eating pattern is healthy. At the end of the day, no one cares that you are thin and awesome. No one. I’m thin too. I work out. Eat healthy. Run Marathons. And guess what…do you care? Nope. You’re too busy twirling in the mirror, writing classless blog posts. Maybe you write for free because no one cares about your voice. Or lack thereof. Seriously. Eat some bacon. Grow up. And remember, beauty if fleeting. One day you are young and thin. The next, you’re 65 have wrinkles, and couldn’t twirl if you wanted to. What will you do with yourself then?

  6. I was sent this blog by a friend who was outraged by the author’s “Fuck you, I’m thin & awesome” rantings. Initially, I skimmed it, became bored, and ultimately didn’t read the entire post. You just didn’t capture my attention. However, this same conversation came up and I was forced to recall the snippets I read from your post. Here’s the thing, it’s ok to think you are thin and fucking fantastic. That’s great. Confidence is a plus. But I don’t think you are a confident person, or you wouldn’t have chosen to blog about something as classless as the above. Making comments about NOT having to worry about what people from ten years ago would think of you is a beacon of your insecurities. If you really think you’re so fantastic, you would give two fucks about running into anyone. Ever. Because you’re the Shit, even when you look like shit. Right? Are you following my logic here? Then you blabber on about how you don’t understand weight loss or dieting because you’ve never had to do it….but you can relate to the difficulty of staying thin because, wait for it…this is my favorite part: YOU DON’T EAT?!? I’m certainly not a medical expert, but shouldn’t something in your mind say, “Fuck, I don’t eat. I think there’s something wrong with me. Maybe the years of starving my body have caused my brain to glitch into some insane vanity mode and pollute the internet with trite blog posts.” If I were your family, this blog post would force me to call an intervention. Lilia – it’s OK to eat. You can still eat and feel beautiful. You can still eat and feel thin. You shouldn’t be curbing your appetite with sodium-free V-8. No doctor would tell you this eating pattern is healthy. At the end of the day, no one cares that you are thin and awesome. No one. I’m thin too. I work out. Eat healthy. Run Marathons. And guess what…do you care? Nope. You’re too busy twirling in the mirror, writing classless blog posts. Maybe you write for free because no one cares about your voice. Or lack thereof. Seriously. Eat some bacon. Grow up. And remember, beauty if fleeting. One day you are young and thin. The next, you’re 65 have wrinkles, and couldn’t twirl if you wanted to. What will you do with yourself then?

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