When I was heavier, I felt bombarded with images of thin, smooth-skinned, tall ladies as ‘beautiful’. If it was North American media, then tanned vixens. And if Bollywood media, then fair-skinned maidens. No one looked like me: pear-shaped, bespectacled, with frizzy unkempt waves & darker skinned… unless it was an actor who played an evil Bollywood mom. Or, was the star of a self-named comedy show (see posts on Tips 1-4, 5-8, 9-10). And I wasn’t any of those adjectives either!

And these thin women were portrayed as The Ultimate Show Ponies, dripping with confidence, promise, fulfilling lifestyles, happiness and sex appeal. Today, I say “Bravo!” to advertising and entertainment sectors for the deep ingrainment. They worked hard to get that image across.  At the time, it didn’t occur to me that I didn’t know anyone else that looked like that, either. Move over Manson² and Heaven’s Gate, Media is the Ultimate brainwasher.

Keep in mind, my teen years were spent poring over glossy magazines with shiny images, talking on the phone with friends, and watching TV. We didn’t have internet or cell phones. My escape was TV and staying up late reading books¹. So growing up with rigid ideas of what the perfect 2-D body looks like makes a regular 3-D girl feel less-than.

In all honesty I thought once I lost weight³, I would be happier. Things would magically fall into place. Of course this is real-life, not a fairy tale.

Happiness is something you attain. It is not bestowed upon you.

I had to really think about what would make me happy. I love reading, photography, the theatre

and writing. I love all kinds of dance. I am happy when beautiful things surround me: people, clothes, art, wine, food. And I am happy after I have challenged myself.

I try to do things to push my personal boundaries like co-writing this blog. (Yes, I love writing but it’s not easy to put yourself out there.) I’ve taken loads of pictures, in public. Then put up these up for you all to see.

And last week, I started a burlesque class with Kells. Yes, burlesque. I love how bawdy, welcoming, tongue-in-cheek, flirty, raucous it is. And we had no idea about its fabulously clandestine history. 

This is an intro class, with a lovely range of ladies across sizes, ages, shapes and abilities. About one third took the class to push themselves, have fun and become more comfortable in their own skin.  Some of the same reasons as N&K!

I would say I’m a happier person, having pushed personal boundaries and embracing all aspects of myself. Am I positive and happy 100% of the time? Of course not. Real life has ups and downs. But if you want to lead a more fulfilling lifestyle…

you gotta wake the F up. Self-evaluate and make a plan of change.

Don’t just chug along with life. Grab it by the horns and point it in the right direction!

Footnotes
1 Thanks Judy Blume, Stephen King, Danielle Steele, Isaac Asimov for keeping me up too late
2 Charles, not Marilyn
3 According to a female family member, all I needed to do in my teen years, was lose weight, get rid of unsightly zits and get toss the glasses. (She was unsure of this last thing, as presumably, there were attractive librarians with glasses.) This aunt was a solid support to me. She never lied. But, she encouraged my strengths and didn’t let me forget them. And I adored her. (She was the next best thing to sliced bread!) So when she gave me this unsolicited bit of advice, which came out of the blue, I was heartbroken.

So what exactly is this Labour Day business?

• Shorter work week
• Right to safety at work
• Right to parental benefits
• Right to unemployment benefits, etc.

We are incredibly lucky to have all of these rights in Canada.

Hmmm safety at work… many peeps think of this as only as physical issues.

Thanks to unions and Labour Day for keeping us all safe.

Don’t forget:  you have to do your part and take care of yo-self, N&Kers.

1 We are not making light of the very real physical dangers.  We are lightening this concept for easier reading. Probative value

Thanks to unions and Labour Day for keeping us all safe.

Don’t forget:  you have to do your part and take care of yo-self, N&Kers.

1 We are not making light of the very real physical dangers.  We are lightening this concept for easier reading. Probative value

Thanks to unions and Labour Day for keeping us all safe.

Don’t forget:  you have to do your part and take care of yo-self, N&Kers.

1 We are not making light of the very real physical dangers.  We are lightening this concept for easier reading. Probative value

Thanks to unions and Labour Day for keeping us all safe.

Don’t forget:  you have to do your part and take care of yo-self, N&Kers.

1 We are not making light of the very real physical dangers.  We are lightening this concept for easier reading. Probative value

From the age of 6, I was referred to as “fat”. I would defo agree with this adjective. But news non-flash! Being “fat” does not equate to a good thing in North America (borrowing Martha Stewart’s catchphrase). It’s mind boggling how pervasive that negativity is, surrounding the word “fat”.  It reminds me of the static electricity ball, where moving witchy fingers of electricity reach out and nip you when you least expect it.  It shouldn’t hurt but it does.

You heard of, read about or saw a flick about… That friend who is hesitant to go to her high school reunion. Her high school sweetheart is going to be there and she doesn’t feel she looks her best. But she attends, and comes back elated, stating “He has a fat and ugly wife!” Or “That celebrity-du-jour is looking real nasty, cause she’s gained so much weight.” Or (my fave) when people say “You would be so pretty if you weren’t so fat.”

Sometimes it feels that society says it’s ok to be a mass murderer as long as the murderer is not fat. Someone’s snarky behaviour is tolerated because it comes out of the mouth of a mini skinny.

Let’s not get all negative as there are some delights of being fat:

• People (often strangers) keep you honest by telling you that you’re fat. And, yelling out-of-the-blue if you’re supes lucky.  (Yes literally shouting out, “You’re fat!”)
• People have no qualms about sharing their pro-skinny opinions. As a kid, I was watching Roseanne.  When my cousin walked in, she immediately said, “Why are there so many fat people on this show?”
• People love to offer up free advice, which is always unsolicited. No hello, how-do-you-do or even come-here-often-? as a segue. No way. It’s the straight up dope.  “You know you should cut out ABC and then do XYZ.”
• You learn to be self-sufficient: as salespeople ignore you or people don’t engage in courteous behaviours like opening the door.

Going across L to R: 2001 Convocation, age 3, 2009 mendhi night, 2009 Wedding Day, age 6 and finally, present day dress & orange scarf!

The start of something.  In my 20s, I was working at a bookstore when a customer called to see if a copy of Susan Orbach’s Fat is a Feminist Issue was available. I was intrigued by the title and read it. And boom my mind was blown! I never considered “fat” as a tool of rebellion. I definitely didn’t feel rebellious but… was I?

Regardless of subconscious rebellions, “fat” as associated with “fugly”, who deems it “unacceptable” and who keeps perpetuating these ideas… I was sick of feeling shitty. I was tired (lethargic yes, and tired of letting other people’s constant fat remarks get to me).  I was physically achey, had a low mood & excessive anxiety.  I had gone on all sorts of diets and they didn’t stick. (The weight stuck, not the loss part.) I was just fed up, and mentioned it to me mumsey.  She suggested that I speak to our family doctor*.  So I did. And he said he could help but first he wanted to do a work up. I thought “C’mon man, let’s just get on with it. I’m in my 20s what on earth can go wrong?”

But they found something… After some more tests and a biopsy later, I was diagnosed with a chronic disease. I was lucky they found it early. Most don’t seek help till decades later, when it’s too late to change. So, with a weird feeling of oddly-displaced luck, I toddled off to see my newly-appointed specialist*. She told me I had to lose 115 pounds, and it would take a couple of years.

Oh holy Murphy c’mon really?!? How many times did I try to but I couldn’t even lose 10?!  This left me feeling mighty frustrated and hapless.

But then there came a point where I had to choose: to sit here and pickle in my misery, or to move forward.

So, I started by educating myself on the disease. And then I made small changes.

Please consult a licensed health professional prior to making changes in your life. What is beneficial to me may not be right for your body. And, things that the media depict as healthy may not be appropriate for your needs.

And just like that Miss Nals got her groove back!

. . . I started to exercise. . .     

Some of my enjoyable childhood memories were learning to dance with mumsey (including watching Arthur Murray Dance Studio videos!).  As such, Zumba beckoned me but I wasn’t quite ready to join public classes.  So I started pin-ponning along with YouTube videos 2x/week.  It took some time to find good videos.  But I eventually found Linda Edler, Sid Vicious and Shani McGraham-Shirley.  (Thank you, lovely ladies!)

. . . and I paid attention to what I was putting in my body. . . 

I looked at portions and nutrition labels.  This can certainly be overwhelming.  So, I’d suggest focussing on a couple of values at a time, not the entire label.  (Your focus is decided by you and your health team, not the media or your skinny friend or me.***)

To my amazement, my weight dropped and… holy frig it kept dropping! It was exhilarating.  Like a roller coaster… But uh … actually enjoyable.  (Sorry Kells I know you heart the rollers.)

My specialist said that’s a great start but you need to join a gym, missy. So, I reluctantly joined one**, and got hooked on boot camp. My awesome bootcamp leader Miss Martina (now at Train on Main) knew when to push me and when to back off. I was also inspired by her weight loss story.  And my fellow bootcampers, though all lifelong slim shadies, were very supportive as well.  Ohhhh this was spectacular!

And so my journey continues… Stay tuned for Part Deux.

The footies:

* I must give a shout-out to my fam doc, Dr. H. He was and is wonderful – always gentle, respectful and kind.  And of course a shout-out to my specialist Dr. S.  Both docs are slim, well-dressed and clearly smart.  But never judgemental.  So thank you to you both from the depths of my now-conditioned heart.

** I was reluctant to join a gym because I was anticipating judgemental attitudes.  At the time, there wasn’t a huge variety of gyms.  It seemed like only those who appeared in Jane Fonda videos were at the gyms that I checked out. I have also experienced people shouting out their negative comments to me while I was exercising. A good combo, these did not make.

*** What I mean by this is that we often hear about things like cutting fat or increasing fibre.  However, if you have an allergy or digestive tract issue, increasing fibre may be harmful. Don’t take what you hear at face value.  Find out the what-why-who-where-when before you choose to apply it to your life.

What are your experiences with weight dysphoria? Care to share? Please comment below!

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