We’ve all got a little personal hypocrisy inside

Posted on 21.06.2011


I was reading this article today in Salon, called My Tiny Hypocrisy, and I felt the need to share. I love that she’s writing about it, I love that she can admit to her own hypocrisy, and I thoroughly appreciate her honesty in this highly sensitive matter.

Someone once called me ‘the morals police’, and quite honestly, they were right in doing so. I am kind of a moral stickler, and I’m under the impression that my moral values, regardless of which religion I do or don’t subscribe to, are quite higher than just about everyone I know. And you know what? I’ve fucking earned that, after years of acting out and hurting others unscrupulously followed by years of introspection, meditation and actual therapy. I can call myself on my own bullshit, but can everyone else? I know when I’m rationalizing. Thanks, Erica (former therapist), for that.

So I felt like I should share this article with everyone and also share a personal story, as it’s one that I hardly ever talk about, and probably one you wouldn’t notice unless you read all of my writing and were looking for it.

I struggle with myself every day. My image, my weight, my height, everything. I’m not overweight. I was, but even then when I was scratching 155 on a 5’2″ frame, it still didn’t classify as the clinically termed ‘obese’ that people I know have dealt with. I wasn’t too big, I’m not too big, but at 155 I was the biggest I’d ever been, and it did a number on me.

I don’t even know why it upset me so much when I got to that point. It came after being at my lowest weight ever, post-medical-disaster-operation in 2003. I was literally trying to eat the weight back on, and it didn’t hurt that I had a boyfriend that lived at Burger King and TGIFriday’s. I’m sure a lot of it had to do with the fact that I didn’t have the insane soccer body that I had going into college, going out of it. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I couldn’t afford new, bigger clothing, so the weight seemed a LOT more obvious.

I’m also sure it just stemmed from always being bigger (read: more muscular with an amazing six-pack even at 14) than all of my skinnier or taller friends. Even at a normal weight, I was always the ‘big girl’. So maybe I don’t understand what it means to be literally ‘fat’, but I definitely understand the mental anguish and self-hatred that comes with not being able to borrow clothing from your fashionista friends and having the biggest ass in the room (thankfully, I’ve grown to accept my large ass. That took a lot of time).

I’ll always be the first person to tell you what kind of superset crunches to do. I’ll always be the first person to tell my friends who are dieting to make sure they are being safe, and not shooting for unrealistic goals. I can spot an eating disorder a mile away. But even when I’m busy being your healthy, fitness-nut friend that’s always looking for new ways to shake up my routine, I’m fighting with my mirror and how I see myself every day.

I’m not above any of the dysmorphic issues, not at all. But I do know that the best way to combat those thoughts (all of the negativity, the self-consciousness, the urge to starve myself for a day or so) is to think better and healthier, dress myself like a stone fox at any weight, and keep reading the right things.

We’re all capable of getting past our issues. We have all of the tools at our disposal. We just have to admit to ourselves that even when we talk a big talk (and generally tend to walk it, too), that we are first and foremost, human. And even if we lock ourselves in our houses and try to turn off the world, there’s always going to be someone more attractive or ‘better’ in some way than us. Even the Guinness World Record champions. Lance Armstrong won’t be #1 forever. There’s always going to be someone doing it ‘more’. We just have to be able to move past that, and stop competing.

As ever, we should only ever be competing with ourselves. Not the girls in the magazines, not the people on the street, not our family members. As Drew so rightly said, ‘there is no finish line’. It’s a constant battle. And we can never let off, not for a minute.

Cheers, to being human. And sexy, at any weight:)