Dieting makes me wonder… you see about 4:30-5 ish I get real ditzy because I haven’t eaten much all day. This makes my drive home on a busy highway a little less than safe. I really have to concentrate on what I’m doing. I have learned to keep a stash of something, some little treat to boost my blood sugar before I head out the door.
And I can get real emotional if I’m not cautious about over-doing the diet bit. My ex-husband once told me that dieting wasn’t fair to the kids because they wouldn’t understand. Sometimes when I feel myself sinking into a big ole pit of depression I have to stop and think about what I’ve eaten, or not eaten.
All of this makes me wonder what the world would be like if women weren’t encouraged to diet, would the ditzy blond jokes be anomalous? what could women have contributed to society if being small weren’t the mark of success?
but…still I diet because I want to date and I don’t want to feel all that anger towards men when they smirk at me, on that first blind date, with their hands crossed lazily over their pot bellies and say, “I could tell you were hiding that you were overweight from the way your pictures on Match.com were taken.” Which really isn’t fair because I haven’t been on match.com for at least two years and it says right there that I’m overweight. I try not to set myself up! But still I get that smirk as if I’ve been caught trying to pass myself off.
More than anything I just want to be loved for who I am so this becomes a double bind. I know that by most people’s standards I am too large to be date-worthy and that when I am small I doubt the sincerity of anyone’s attraction. In the back of my mind I’m wondering what would happen if I gained weight again, so I don’t trust.
but…still I diet because I want to have hope and I have learned that the larger I am the less hope I have. And I realize that this whole thing is wrong and unhealthy and a little sick but I don’t know the way out of it. I have learned a lot about being safe though, about keeping emergency food nearby in case my blood sugar crashes and I become more ditzy, or emotional than usual, my eyes glazing over and my mind shutting down.
I look forward to the day when I can go back to the gym and I can enjoy being strong and fit again. For now all I want is for friends to stop reminding me that ‘some men like fat women’ and to fit into my jeans again. And I don’t want to hear the reassurance that there’s someone out there for everyone or any other platitude that fails to take this seriously because I have tried so very hard for so very long. For as long as I can remember.
All I want is to have the hope that someone, some day, might want to be with me, not in spite of how I look or because I’ll “do” until something better comes up. So I, like so many, many women before me, am willing to be ditzy, to be emotional, to be less than I might otherwise be because the alternative, being alone, is just too painful. While I hope that if I ever do meet a man who would want to be with me that he would, sooner rather than later, really see me for who I am, I know that to get there, first he has to simply look at me and at least, be intrigued.