I've been heavy for several years now. I was a whopping 185 pounds on the day that I got married two years ago. I've lost 15 pounds since then by no other means then going "Holy crap! Pizza bad. Pizza very bad." I seriously lost 15 pound in the matter of weeks by not eating out.
That was two years ago, so I find myself wondering why I'm suddenly trying to figure out what my target weight should be. I've asked doctors. I've checked with any number of BMI calculators. I've received a distressing variety of answers from: The doctor who told me I should weigh about 125 pounds (Even though I was skin and bones at 120), the physical trainer who said that I should aim for 20% body fat which would be about 145 pounds (Which was my original starting weight which had me labeled as 'thick'), all the way up to the various calculators that told me I should weigh 160 but because of my bone structure and body type I would forever look fat and generally duck shaped.
Why do I suddenly hate my own skin so much? I've lost 15 pounds, but I feel way more self conscious now then I did at 185. Losing weight hasn't made me any happier about myself.
I read somewhere that the problem with social commentary on body image is that hurtful statements are remembered more often than complements are. Deciding to preform some covert psychological (or would it be cognitive/behavioral?) experiments with my own head, I proceeded to make an exercise of looking in the mirror at myself and trying to remember nice things that people have said about how I look.
I remembered my husband telling me that I "look nice." I smiled and said "Thank you." But then I immediately thought "But I never know if your telling me the truth."
This all stems from a conversation my husband and I had several months ago. Keep in mind I didn't at the time, and still don't think that the conversation I'm about to reference was in any part meant to hurt me or make me feel bad.
We were idly talking about the crazy, stupid things we think when we're angry at each other. I said I contemplated dumping chili pepper in his can of coffee to get back at him once. He told me, "I thought 'I don't know why I put up with her, she's not even that physically attractive.' Then I stopped and said 'That's not fair. She's only like that because she was eating what you were eating.' "
I'm proud of the fact that I didn't burst into tears. I don't know what was worse, the fact that my husband told me that he doesn't think I'm physically attractive, or the fact that it being his fault is the only excuse for it.
Now granted, I'm sensitive about my appearance and tend to make a mountain out of a mole hill, but that really smarts. Every time he compliments me I think about that comment. I'm wary of his praise and doubt it's sincerity.
I find myself thinking illogical things like "That's why he won't hold me. That's why he never has time for me. That's why-" I know that's not the case. We work two different shifts, he has the kids 3 days a week and the only time he gets to see them is the only time that I'm awake since I work night shift. We're tired, bone tired all the time. Yet for some reason it just seems easier to blame him for all of my insecurities.
Currently I'm of the opinion that I have to stop finding a source, and actually deal with my body image issues. Like much of the country I can't afford a therapist, and all resources on the net are geared to teens or completely untrustworthy.
I figure I will develop a healthy body image, work on my confidence, and figure out what makes me happy before I worry about him thinking I'm attractive. He's a non entity on this subject. His opinion should mean nothing if it isn't good, so I'm going to set that aside as I focus on my real problem: Me and my own opinion of myself.
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