So we've been all children here, and we probably all remember our moms starting a sentence with something like, "I don't want you going out so late at night..." that somehow ended with us in a wreck, pregnant, destitute, or on drugs (or perhaps all four at the same time). Or perhaps it was just my mom's vivid imagination. At any rate, I think that everyone is familiar with the notion of sliding values, you know, the exact thing your mom was worrying about. If you start going out late, you will start running with the wrong crowd, doing what they're doing, and before you know it, you'll think earning your living by holding up a cardboard sign at the entrance to the railway station is perfectly acceptable.
Just last month, I realized that living in the south has somewhat been like that, at least as far as weight issues are concerned. And I know I'm probably going to offend scores of readers with this, so if you are not feeling your body today, please go here, here, or here. I love you and you're awesome no matter your size, but I am going to talk about weight today.
Sorry.
You see, over the past years, I have had to come to the conclusion that southerners appear to be far more likely to be overweight than any other part of the country. Thank goodness, my observations have been backed up various scientific studies, so please don't yell at me for being..uhm..I believe the word is "size-ist".
Anyway, the fact of the matter of is that besides our own town, which is populated mainly by military folk, who by virtue of their career, have to stay in shape, most other places are populated by people who could lose a pound or two. Or ten. Or fifty. And my point is not that they should, or shouldn't. Honestly, besides worrying about potential health issues, I am really fine with whatever weight you're OK with. I'm not going to tell you to lose weight, because I just don't care. My point is that it's so easy to take this as the norm, and forget what you once thought was "normal" body weight.
I remember when I first ventured out to my current job, I was taken aback by the number of large people. It appeared that the majority of people on and off campus had weight issues. But what's interesting is that I've stopped noticing. Freshmen with bellies hanging over their jeans don't make me take notice anymore. Young women who struggle to walk up stairs because it's almost impossible for them to bend their knees are just another coworker, and men who can use their stomachs to rest their arms while sitting down are just comfortable. It's normal to see students eat an egg biscuit for breakfast every morning. And chic-fil-a for lunch every day is nothing to make you sit up either. You clean your plate, and if it's fried it's good.
In fact, weight issues are apparently so commonly accepted down here, that I have had some really interesting conversations in the past few years. I've had students ask me if I've "always been this skinny", I've had people at meals tell me I need to eat more as I obviously need to fatten up, and people have asked husband-dear, after he lost about three pounds (of unnecessary belly weight), if he was doing OK, or if he needed to talk, since he'd lost some weight, which can obviously only be a sign of something baahaahaad. But last week I had a conversation with someone in the athletics department no less, that took the cake.
We were talking about a university-wide blood drive, and I asked if I could donate blood, as I have lived in Europe for more than 6 months.
"Sure, you're fine. "The man looked me up and down, "I just don't know if they'll let you donate because you're so thin."
"I'm sorry?"
"You have to weigh at least 108 lbs to be allowed to donate."
"Uhm, well, trust me, I do."
"Well, they may not let you anyway, because you just don't look like you could handle it."
"What?! Are you serious? I could outrun all of them."
"Yeah, " at least he started to laugh, "I know. But still, they want to make sure you're healthy."
Healthy?
Look, people, let's do the numbers here. My BMI is 19. According to the Department of Health and Human Services, that is considered a normal body weight. My cholesterol is in the normal range. My blood pressure is something like 110 over 70. I am allowed to consume 1600 calories a day to maintain my normal body weight. If I burn more by exercising, I eat more. On a long bike day, I can consume up to 3000 calories a day, and I do. Trust me. I run, I bike, I swim. I eat. Lots and lots. Really. But because I exercise, it doesn't go anywhere. I get my daily vitamins, and if I don't, I take a supplement. I eat proteins, fat, and carbohydrates. I probably don't drink enough water, but I try to stay away from regular sodas. I may not have any belly to rest my arms on, but let's talk about that caboose I'm carrying around with me. You may not like me, but you may not call me unhealthy. Or skinny. As I am neither. I am healthy.
So I've made a pact - I'm not going to take it anymore. From now on, if anyone tells me I need to eat more because I'm skinny, I'm going to tell them that I am exactly where I need to be for my height and weight. If anyone asks me if I've always been this skinny, I'm going to tell that I'm not skinny, I am normal. And if they keep on pestering me, I'm going to tell them they're a bunch of thinists.
Take that.
Now excuse me while I help myself to a chocolate martini.
3 comments:
Hear, hear!
I hear you! I agree, my old town (your current) had tons of larger folks-pun intended. The South is heavy in general. And no, you're not skinny, you're slender- and yes, there is a difference, at least to me there is! ;)
OMG. I could have written this. I grew up in South, always short and always thin. I danced. I have a complete crack metabolism I would PAY to slow down. I also waited tables, so all sorts of comments were hurled my way. I almost went as far to tell people my eating disorder was really working for me (which is awful, I know, don't remind me) but mainly I gave them my best shit-eating grin (learned from other Southern women) and told them I ate whatever I wanted and just couldn't gain a pound. I think dropped their plates of lard on the table and walked away. Comments about my size, to this day, can bring me to tears. My current way of handling it is to abruptly end the conversation. I figure if someone is rude enough to talk about my weight and size, I don't want to know what else they're capable of mentioning. And by the way- does any stranger ever talk up an obese person? "Oh, yeah, you look large. Fat, actually. Do you ever not eat?" Of course not. FEEL YOU.
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