I'm still going by the mindless eat whatever routine... it's not great, and I settled in at 187.0 lbs this morning. But I'm in high gear today with house tidying and such and will get a meal plan together for next week so that I can get myself back on track.
I had an interesting experience the other night. My husband, Nick*, and I went out to meet some friends and play pool. I ended up being the only girl there amongst 4 guys. That's not unusual; we've all been friends for over 10 years (high school was a blast with these guys) and there were usually few girls in the group. Spike* was home to visit, having moved up north this past winter. We had some laughs, I lost a few games of pool and we enjoyed each others company. And, boys being boys, they ogled the scenery. Which I am used to, and often encourage their opinions. But for some reason it was different this time. I'm used to the comments about some girls rack, or how tight her ass is. Two of them started discussing the attractiveness of a girl across the hall. She was wearing a tank top that cinched right under her chest, then flowed out from her stomach. The boys were undecided as to whether or not she was attractive because they didn't know whether the shirt was poofing up because it was just that kind of shirt or because she was fat underneath and attempting to hide it. It made me sad that someones attractiveness hinged on whether or not they had a flaw to hide. I rationalized it by saying they are boys, that's just what they do, judge women purely on how the look. Don't get me wrong, my friends aren't terrible guys, nor do they treat women badly or anything like that. They had no intention of actually speaking to this girl, just looking from afar. But I felt bad for her, then realized I really felt bad for me. If my friends were talking about other girls, then most certainly so were the other guys in the place (or any other place for that matter). And if any girl was free game (earlier they had made fun of the two overweight and unattractive girls at the table next to us with younger guys) then so was I. While my own friends don't make comments about me, maybe other people around us do. And while I would never likely hear them, I hated knowing that somewhere out there, there was likely somebody commenting on my fat stomach or my wide ass. I felt exposed and vulnerable, all because of this stupid armour of weight I seem to insist on carrying around. And it's not doing me any favours.
Don't get me wrong, I'm no saint either. I make critical comments about people all the time, likely because of my own insecurities. As I said, I often ask the guys their opinions on particular girls, just out of curiosity of what they think is hot and what isn't. But I've never internalized it so much before. Maybe that girl really does have some self-conscious issues about her stomach. Maybe she was pregnant. Maybe she has great abs and just really liked the shirt. Maybe she does have a bit of a stomach and doesn't care! Who knows what the situation is. But I end up feeling like the victim. And it's over things that I can change about myself if I really try.
* names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent
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