former fatty

I started hating my body when I was in third grade. That's the first time I remember being aware of "weight" and "dieting" and suddenly craving a different waist, different arms or legs. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Wilder, was a very open to her third grade students about her battle with weight and even shared how her sister was hospitalized because she threw up so much, she completely ripped out her stomach lining. Soon after those stories were told to the class, the girls decided to play a game every day in the bathroom. It wasn't really a game but more of a test. There were three sinks in the girls bathroom, each with maybe 3 or 4 inches of space between them. Two of the girls stated one day during our bathroom break if you couldn't fit between the sinks, you were fat. Somehow, those two little waifs managed to squeeze themselves between the sinks, however I couldn't; therefore, I was a fatty. Later I learned one of the girls got pregnant right out of high school and the other got a painfully obvious boob job.

For whatever reason, that moment has stuck with me. I remember the first time someone actually called me fat. I was in the sixth grade and it was a Friday. I was going to be checked out of school a half hour early to go shopping with my best friend Lindsay and her mom. When I was called to leave, I grabbed my things and hurried down the hall to get Lindsay and excitedly knocked on her homeroom door. One of the kids let me in and as I walked in the room, a lovely boy by the name of Kiev yelled across the room, "HEY! You were the hippopotamus in my band class today!" Everyone laughed. And a little part of me died. Of course my shopping experience for the day was ruined and that moment started an obsession with my weight and appearance which would last me a lifetime. Kiev of course turned out to be quite a gem -- landing himself in jail multiple times for intelligent crimes such as driving drunk and running into a mailbox. I guess sometimes karma really does bite you in the ass.

I think people who crave to be thin really crave invisibility. Or maybe the crave to be thin is really a craving to disappear. I wanted to disappear in middle school and felt invisible for those three long years. As I got older and into high school, I used to stand in front of the mirror before I got in the shower and stare at the areas I hated most on my body and criticize them. At times I would poke and pinch certain areas so hard I would leave a bruise. I felt if I hated my stomach enough, maybe it would go away. High school is somewhat of a blur and I don't remember a lot. However, I was very involved in things like theatre, chorus, colorguard and had a lot of friends. I hid the hatred for myself very well.

I ended up going to college for musical theatre and quickly learned of the importance of "look" when it came to landing a job in the business. The first show I auditioned for was "Chicago" and the director had us wear nothing but tights and a leotard and stand in front of him while he judged our bodies. I was cut immediately. Soon after this experience, I found myself eating only a bowl of cereal or a tiny can of dry tuna a day. Before I knew it, the weight was coming off and people were starting the notice. I also lost all color in my face, my hair and nails were dry and brittle and I couldn't get through a dance class without becoming horribly dizzy. But the dizzier I became and the more people told me how thin I was getting, the less I ate. I loved feeling hungry -- it was so powerful. If I went to bed starving, I felt as if I had accomplished something and I felt completely in control. I loved it.

This didn't last. I feel people who have a tendancy toward eating disorders go one of two ways -- either they simply get over it or they nearly die. I got over it. And while I started eating again, my way of thinking never changed. I hated myself every time I ate and felt guilty at every meal.

My weight has yo-yo'd a lot over the years. I look back at pictures of myself in college and see how beautiful I was -- and in no way was I fat. It's sad to think of all the time I wasted and all the experiences I lost out on all because I hated my body. I've worked so hard these last six months to change my thinking, and while I've come a long way, I'm not there yet. I suppose it took me 26 years to get this way -- it's going to take a little time to change it.

I feel the media has a HUGE effect on adolescent women and their body images, but that's another blog.