Body Image and The Voice
02/09/2010

Let’s make a pit-stop in in my brain. Here you’ll find the voice of reason and the voice that can’t be reasoned with.

People have been telling me I’m ‘tiny’. I certainly don’t feel ‘tiny’. 100 pounds ago I was far from tiny. Comparatively, I guess I am kind of tiny now. But I still don’t believe I’m small. ‘I could be smaller’, the voice tells me. I ‘feel’ happy and healthy. ‘I’m fit, not fat,’ I argue with the voice. Let’s be reasonable. I could go out and run 15 miles right now. I threw away all my ‘fat’ clothes. I wear running tights in public. But I look in the mirror and see a fat girl.

You can’t argue with facts — or can you? Today I am 5’5” but unsure what I weigh. I stopped weighing when it began determining my mood every day. I secretly wish I knew. The voice tells me it’s probably 150. My friends tell me it must be 120. I scoff at them, relishing the fact that they humor me. (The voice told me that’s all they’re doing.) I’m a size 6-10 pants and normally a medium shirt, but I can also fit a small or a large depending on where I’m shopping. I’m a pear shape girl, holding weight in my thighs and rear-end. The voice has convinced me that I’m squeezing into a 6 or a small because of vanity sizing or manufacturer defect. I don’t argue, even though I threw away every size 12 in my closet last year. The voice comes through in my actions: I measure my waistline to see if I’ve gained weight. I threw away my scale years ago but I have found a way to become obsessed with numbers using measuring tape and a spreadsheet. I have researched celebrities’ numbers to see how I measure up, only to feel depressed that my thighs are as big as their waistlines. I scrutinize pictures of myself to see if I have gained weight since the picture was taken, or if I’m any thinner than I once was.

I compare myself to my friends. I fluctuate wildly between being proud of them, happy for them, and supporting them in their weight loss journeys — and hating them because they’re thinner than I am. I check mirror all the time. I turn to the side and wonder if I look fat. I try on 4 different outfits in the morning to see which one is the most flattering. I obsess over the extra flab around my middle. I sulk in the fact that I’ll never wear a bikini or a sport top or want my picture taken having fun on a beach.

Reality Check However, with all the faults that I find in myself, I’ve grown in many ways as well. The kinder, gentler voice of reason is surfacing and stuffing the negativity down a little further with every accomplishment. ‘What’s my life like?’ I ask myself in my own voice, knowing that’s more important than how I look. I smile at strangers. I’m confident enough to speak to a room full of people. I am not afraid to go out and be social and befriend people. I take on challenges in the workplace. I ran a marathon. I share my story and encourage others to be the best they can be. I am starting to understand that it doesn’t matter what I weigh or what I look like. All I can do today is strive to be better than I was yesterday. As I reason with the voice, I am finding more reasons to live life to the fullest.