(no subject)

I hate hate hate the phrase “Lose weight until you feel better/good” and all off-shoots with that same basic idea. It's subjective, and it's a polite-company phrase generally used by strangers in order to have something to say when a person reveals that they are losing weight. It's vague, and often unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary advice coming from a person who hasn't bothered to ask why you're losing weight or what your goals are, and doesn't give enough of a damn to do so. But, in bullet points, here is why I dislike it.

1. It's making an assumption.

    By saying “Lose weight until you feel better/good”, you are making the assumption that you know why the person is losing weight. Did you ask? Do you even care? There are actually many reasons to lose weight! Even more amazing, not all of them have anything to do with immediate benefits! For example, I do not notice any particular difference between my energy levels now and when I was in high school and 50 pounds lighter. If anything, I have more stamina now because I'm around more tall people who won't slow down and I have made concerted efforts over the years to exercise. I exercise more now than I did when I was thinner. At my own pace in comfortable shoes, a forty-five minute walk is fine. I spend all day on my feet with clients. I can lift a 6-foot man out of his chair, or roll a heavy-set woman over in bed when she's decided to be dead weight. I am flexible enough to bridge my back, or touch my nose to my toes. To follow this advice, I wouldn't be losing weight at all.
    It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with self-esteem, either. Yes, there is the possibility that my self-esteem will go up as my weight goes down. But hilariously, if you ask me what my mental picture of myself is, I would draw you a picture of someone much much lighter. It's not that I'm unaware that I'm a big girl. It's that by and large, my weight is one of the few things in life I don't worry as much about (note: “as much”. Which is not to say I don't worry, but that in the list of things that affect my self-esteem, it's not very high). I watched my mother struggle desperately with her weight for years, and decided when I was a kid that I wasn't going to make myself miserable like that. Also, it's important to realize that losing this weight is not going to magically erase 26 years of living with my parents. It's not going to change years of not being good enough, or pretty enough, years of being told that my hips are too big, my hair is too plain, my boobs are too small, I'm too old to be loved, too weird to be liked, or too much of a hassle to be around. I do not want to get to the end of this and go “MAN WHY DON'T I FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF NOW?” because it's just not going to happen. I hold no illusions that this will magically fix my self-esteem or make me more confidant.
    I am not actually losing weight for any immediate benefits. What I am actually losing weight for is my future. As I've told other people, my family history implies that I will live well into my nineties. Even if I don't, I want my eighties and seventies to be good years too. I work with the elderly; is it any wonder that I've noticed a correlation between people who maintain a lower weight/stronger muscles and people who remain mobile and active longer? I'm at a point in my life where losing weight is easier now than it will be later in life, and I want to take advantage of it. Also, I've found an inexpensive device that lets me exercise while I sit on my ass in front of the TV. Which means I don't have to give up any of my TV/videogame/after-work relaxing/internet time. So it was also a bit of a whim. But truthfully, honestly, when I started on this, I went in with the attitude that the primary benefit that I am looking for is future health, not current stamina or self-esteem.

    Saying to me “Lose until you feel good” tells me that you don't know me, you don't know why I'm losing weight, and you're not going to bother asking me to find out because it's simply easier to continue with your blind assumptions. It annoys me with perfect strangers, and I expect more from my friends.

     2. It's vague.

    “Lose until you feel good/better” implies that there will come a time when you have a sudden epiphany. HUZZAH, I AM THE PERFECT WEIGHT. And you know what, I'm happy for those of you for which that works. But I don't really see a difference in my activity levels now versus when I was younger and thinner. I don't feel slower, or bloated, or sluggish. For those of you who know me in real life, I'm still just as likely to squeal like a small child and jump up and down and run around in circles because I'm too excited to sit down. I haven't gained any weight since I went to NYC, for example, and I was running all over that city OMG THE TRAINS. I haven't gained any weight since I went to Seattle, and I walked all over the place there. So for those of you who notice when you gain 10 pounds, good for you. Unfortunately, I'm still at approximately the same energy levels I was when I was in high school and college, except that I'm no longer consuming gallons of caffeine and thus I'm actually sleeping most nights. If losing weight gives me the energy I had when I was consuming gallons of caffeine, I must say that I'd prefer to stop right now.

    It may seem completely foreign to you, but I'm not actually aware of a difference in my weight now between my weight when I was thinner. Which means that this kind of vague wishy-washy advice that seems so straightforward to some people only tells me that there's no way to know when I should stop. If I don't notice a difference between now and when I was thin, how am I going to know when ten more pounds is too much? If I get down to 130, how will I know that 120 won't make me feel better? And if 120 makes me feel better, 110 should make me feel great, right? How am I supposed to know when is the right time to stop? I'm an incredibly obsessive person, having to have all of whatever it is I'm collecting, be the best at whatever it is I'm doing, getting to my goals and my endgame no matter what, even if it makes me the most miserable person ever. This is how I managed to graduate college. Because I was too stubborn to drop out even though by the end of my tenure there I hated the professors, I hated the degree, I hated where I was, what I was doing, had lost all my friends to transfers, and was getting intentionally screwed over by my advisor for her petty revenge. I don't see what, in that vague statement, is solid enough to prevent me from going overboard and developing an eating disorder.
    I dislike vague. I'm not good with vague. I like set goals and distinct boundaries for success. I want and need to have a point where I say, “Okay, I've reached my goal. I'm done.” In case anyone cares, the goal number I picked is based on my memories of how much I weighed in high school, how much I needed to lose then, accounting for my body frame, and what I think is a realistic number for me to be at. While I am being rather obsessive about BMI charts and website numbers and so forth, I did not use them to formulate my final goal because I know they are all bullshit. I simply need something to obsess over to occupy my mind so that I'm not having fits and refusing to eat.

     3. It's a polite-company response that is assumed to be a universal truth, despite the fact that no one goal can work for every person out there.

    Honestly, I'm very glad for other people for whom a simple, “Wow, I feel great at 104.5 pounds, I think I'll stay right here,” works. But I think it's presumptuous and arrogant to believe that this thing that works great for you is going to work for everyone if you just tell them it will. But you know what? I feel great at 212. I've found clothing that fits and flatters, and I feel sexier, prettier, and healthier now than I ever did when I was thinner. In fact, since I've gotten up to 212, I haven't had a single hip spasm. My leg has never once given out on me and left me sprawled on the floor unable to bear weight. I used to have them regularly.
    However, I don't think 212 is healthy for my future. And that is why I'm losing weight.




    So the next time I'm annoyed at something, the next time you disagree with me, instead of doing exactly what I've said I'm annoyed by and telling me I'm wrong in my thought process... Ask me why I think the way I do. I expect perfect strangers to not give a shit about my reasons, and I expect my friends to ask questions, try to understand, and try to be supportive. You don't have to agree with what I say or believe, but respect that I know my body, I know my mind, and I know my particular neuroses well enough to know what will and will not work, and respect my right to be annoyed at something that is not a universal truth, and is, in this case, incredibly subjective and personal.