#15 – Write an Anti-Diet Manifesto
You don’t get my kids, too.
Too many years, you had all of me. I gave everything to you. All that wasted time and energy. For what?
To fit in a smaller size?
To fit in?
To ‘feel good about myself?’
What if I had just skipped the self-hatred, the restriction, the weighing and measuring, the money spent on this or that program, the shakes, the prepared meals, the books, and just went immediately to the part where I loved myself?
Losing the weight was never magical.
It never made me
better, smarter, more successful, more compassionate, more confident, or more beautiful.
It was always this slippery slope. Sure, it felt good to slip on something smaller, to see my cheekbones, to feel lighter. It was nice for a moment.
But it was always followed by unhealth: weight regain, binging, self-loathing.
I got off that rollercoaster a few years ago – just in time to see my children facing the same damnable cycle. Surrounded by their bone-y friends, they feel bad for their healthy, round faces, their sweet, soft bellies. And no matter how many times their mom tells them they are so very handsome just as they are, I can feel their pain and worry about being different, too big, too much – because I carried that pain and worry for most of my life, too.
My dear boys –
food is good.
eating is good.
Movement and strength is good, too.
Treating one’s body well is all sorts of things
but never is it:
the stingy, self-focused, miserly way of living that is “dieting.”
I will never diet again. I chose this years ago and life finally feels like life.
I choose to eat.
I choose movement I love and to enjoy every meal God gives me.
My worth, your worth, is not defined by the number on a scale.
Diet industry – You don’t get to have my kids, too. I will protect them from you with every ounce of energy I have in this strong, perfectly-sized body of mine. I hate you for the time you stole from me and for how you fuel a culture that tells my children or anyone that they are somehow flawed because of their God-given appetite.
For the Next Fifty Years: Always: More living. Less dieting.