I was born a healthy baby tipping the scales at a nice eight pounds. Yes, I was a semi- fat kid. But I was one of those husky, strong specimens.
“Give the bat to Meredith, she’ll hit a home run,” my dad would tell the softball coach. I would put down my doughnut on the bench and proceed to bat. (I kid.) The strong, fat thing was tossed around quite often around me. “She’s strong!” they’d all say. But really, rarely (never) did I hit a homerun. [However, I could punch the catcher in the face and then hit the local Dairy Queen for a large Blizzard if the day called for it.]
The truth of the matter, however, was that I really was strong. I was big and strong and I hated it. I felt like crap about myself even at a young age. I was miserable and that misery caused me to eat more. I was lonely, so I ate. Then I was fat, so I was mean. Food was my friend, my enemy. I learned the fear and comfort of food from a very young age.
I think back to age eleven when I went on Weight Watchers. I know my mom was trying to help me. I was getting fatter by the second and back in the eighties no one knew you weren’t supposed to put your kids on diets. Especially with the new fat-free craze. So my folks did the best they knew how to do, and I entered the world of six carrot sticks, a bowl of cottage cheese and water for lunch. When I got home from school, starving, handfuls of Ritz crackers were stuffed in my mouth for snack – stuffed so tight and so fast into my cheeks that my mouth would bust open and I would “poof” crumbs everywhere. I was just so hungry. The parents would go to sleep and I would creep to the kitchen for chips and cookies. Eat, eat and then I’d cry, cry, cry – a perpetuation that continues to this day.
Still, I lost weight and I entered middle school weighing 125 pounds. But the time the boobs appeared (at age 11), I was 5’6” and 155 pounds. I really wasn’t that fat. I played sports, was getting some exercise. But I believed I was fat, because I had always been fat.
Fat was what I knew.
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| (And crazy) |
… all I thought was fat fat fat.
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| I’m am NOW 4000% certain that this is not fat fat fat. |
Now, that I am in my thirties, I am blown away by the intensity of fatness I felt at a young age.
Where did it come from? Why was “fat” even used? What kind of kid, at eleven, is even worrying about weight, and figures, and looking good?
I fear this body image epidemic is even worse now. Our daughter is three. Any reference towards “piggy” or “chunky” in our house, and I’m taking someone to the mat. I am trying to shield her from any reference to her body image – good, bad or otherwise – for as long as I can. I am not sure when I lost my body-image innocence.
But one thing I know is that when the body image innocence was gone – it was g-o-n-e. It has never quite come back.
Even at 70.3 Miami, I remember running down the finish line chute trying to avoid the crowds (good luck with that) and thinking, I’m the fattest one here, I’m so big.
Imagine: working so hard for a goal and whining about your size just minutes before the finish.
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Stupidity.
Then, I experienced this sadness just yesterday after an hour and a half on the bike. In all of my openess and honesty about the weight battle, I am still struggling. I am eating well and I am slowly (slowly) losing – I’m down about 2 pounds. All good things.
Anyway, as I was changing in the locker room yesterday, a svelte looking runner asked me, “Do you do triathlon?” I glanced down. She saw my Swim Bike Mom shirt sitting on the bench. Crap.
“Oh,” I said, “Yeah sort of.”
I was embarassed that she, the very nice fit woman, asked me that question. Obviously, I was so embarrased that I said “Yeah, sort of.” I was embarrassed because I was standing in a towel and thinking, I don’t look like a triathlete. You do. I don’t feel like one.
WHAT in the bloody hell?
My screwed-up body image is (yet again) spilling over into my ABILITY IMAGE. Forgive me for yet another post about this.
What I am capable of doing is being clouded by the size of my arms. I hate this about myself. My heart and soul knows better. I know better…
…And I need to do better for my daughter (Little Jackie O.).
Sending you positive thoughts and hugs from the UK. xxxxx
Preach, preach, preach.
I remember the kid on the school bus who told me I had chubby cheeks. I was in kindergarten.
I remember when my mom took me to the nutritionist. I remember her pinching my arms to measure body fat, and showing me on a scientific-looking chart just HOW FAT I was. I remember, because of a nutritionist appointment, proudly telling my class I had lost a pound, and the kids laughed at me. I was eight.
I remember wearing huge clothes in high school because I thought I was so fat. I was maybe 155. Today I'd kill to be that weight.
I'm 33 and I still sneak food when I'm around my mother. I eat because I'm sad, I eat because I'm angry, I eat because I'm bored. I have never in my life been able to have "just one" cookie or bite of ice cream.
For as much as I've struggled, I am desperate to avoid installing this particular neurosis in my children, especially my girls. When we talk about food or exercise, we talk about making our bodies strong and healthy. We never talk about attractiveness or self-worth. And when my MIL starts talking about her own body issues in front of my kids, I LOSE MY SHIT.
We can't protect them forever, but we can do our best to start pushing the healthier message as much as we can, right?
Another great post that I could totally identify with! I was nowhere close to being fat as a kid. Sure, I had my chubs phase at one point, but I was your average sized kid. But, my mom has always been overweight and I remember her diets, her diet shakes, her diet candy, her binge eating a bag of M&Ms, etc. She was always making jokes about her size and calling herself fat. At the age of 11, I remember comparing my thighs to those of a super thin girl at school. I thought my thighs were enormous..I still do. I look back at pics of myself in high school when I weighed 110. Back then I thought I was a cow. Jeeze, to be that size again! And with my daughter…I don't think I've even used the word fat in front of her….even the times I’ve taken her with me to buy a new swimsuit. I was looking in the mirror and cringing on the inside. 🙂 But she kept saying, "Mommy that's a beatiful color” or “That one looks so pretty on you". When it comes to food, we talk about eating the right things to give us energy and make us strong. Kids are so mean to each other theses day, she doesn't need her own mother adding to all that and giving her a complex!
Honestly, I actually respect you and your triathlon efforts MORE because you aren't stick thin! Us "bigger" girls have to work a LOT harder to swim, bike, and run than the super-thin. Which makes our accomplishment all the more rewarding. Looking at what you have accomplished gives me hope that I'll be able to do those things someday. For now, my chunkiness is trying to master my first open-water sprint length tri. Thanks for speaking up for the rest of us!
I grew up on a diet. I don't ever want my kids to have to feel like I did. Sneaking and binging on treats that they aren't "supposed" to have or looking in the mirror and feeling like a lard butt at 11. I remember when my 6th grade class went to Rock Eagle, and this girl said I was heavy when they lifted me through the big spiderweb thing. I was heartbroken, and barely ate the rest of the time I was there because I was heavy.
It is sad that kids can have such a distorted body image at such a young age and it is such a battle to make it go away.
This weekend, I was at the nutritionist, and She measured my body fat with one of those machines. I have lost 20% body fat, and I sat there and complained about my stomach and fat arms. How to change this behavior? I have no idea.
While I don't have children, I have often said, "when I have children, I am going to …(insert some specific food behavior or non-behavior here)". I know striving to be a positive example to my future kids is a motivator. I know feeling better about myself is a motivator. I think maybe just reminding oneself of that is a good start.
Personally, I think you look pretty freaking fabulous. I know I haven't seen you in person in a while, but your pictures tell a tale.
The other thing I do know is no matter what people tell us, we have to look in the mirror at ourselves. We have to be happy with what we see. But, I think too, making sure what we want to be happy with is realistic is important. That is my problem right now. In the meantime, I keep saying, I can run a race, I can do….. instead of beating myself up.
Sorry for the long comment (Novel), I could just totally relate!
I've always been the fat kid. Always felt like the biggest person in the room. Swear I've always been on a diet.
I know that look I get (or think I get) when I tell someone I'm a triathlete. The "she's too fat to do that" look.
I had a total breakdown on Saturday night because I couldn't fit in to the wetsuit I'd gotten as a hand me down. All I kept saying was I'm a big fat failure. I've completed 6 triathlons, had ridden 25 miles earlier in the day, but I couldn't see it in myself. Thankfully, my husband can and does. He, and others, are the positive voices in my head. The ones that make me try things I think I can't. They were the voices that got me out of the house yesterday and supported me when I actually jogged for the first time in almost 2 years.
Just know that when you don't believe in yourself, I believe in you. You are one of the positive voices in my head telling me I can do this. So, when you tell yourself you are fat, I'll be the voice that yells back "you are NOT fat, you are awesome!"
I ran a 5k this weekend and the first words out of my mouth were "worst time ever" anf then I basically yelled at the photographer to please not take my picture. last night I looked on the site & sure enough there's my picture several times – front, back & sideways. I was upset to say the least & wnet to be trying to figure out how I could delete them from the site!?
Today I realized one things for certain – I have a distorted body image to say the least. I lost 50 pounds 4 years ago & have kept it off. I spent this past winter managing a blood clot in my foot. I have permanent never damage in my toes. And all I can see is my big fat arse in those pictures.
You my dear go out every single day and move your body, you are beautiful Don't let anyone ever take that away from you, least of all yourself. I had a very wise woman once ask me "Would you ever say the things to a friend about the way they look that you say to yourself in a mirror?"
Unimaginable right? So stop being mean to yourself & start being as kind to yourself as you are to others
I don't know what to say, because this is a horrible thing to struggle with.
But you should totally spend more time naked. The way I look in clothes never makes me happy, but I look and feel damn good naked. No matter that I could stand to lose fifty pounds.
My two cents.
Growing up, I was not fat – but my dad thought I was. He called me "Miss Piggy". Raised his eyebrows if I wanted seconds. I went through anorexia and bulimia trying to gain his approval. In college, I started binge-eating and stopped purging and gained weight. Then, when I was trying to lose it (on Weight Watchers) he came to visit and asked me if I really "needed" to eat all those baby carrots, because calories were calories, after all. (No dad, I don't want the carrots – pass the freaking brownies, will you? And then let's go get some ice cream.)
My whole life I have struggled with my weight, my self image, my body image. I am embarassed of my size at marathon expos when I am surrounded by skinny runners – but I have come to realize that we are all going the same distance. It is no easier for them to run 26.2 than it is for me. My thick thighs get me across that finish line just fine. I don't think less of anyone bigger or smaller than me who is out doing the same thing – I actually think more of the bigger people, because I think it takes so much more mental strength to fight those negative thoughts and get out there, and while I will always be jealous of the smaller people, I know they have their own issues and for the most part, they are all struggling and working hard too.
You went 70.3 miles. In your body. No one helped you or carried you – you did it. That was all you. Own it. Be proud of that. Thick thighs, arms, belly – whatever the physical issue in your mind, the reality is that your body did that distance, and did it awesomely. You are an athlete, a HIM finisher, a fit and healthy woman who struggles at times – but who doesn't?
Glad (and sad) to know I'm not the only one just waking up to the fact that I wasn't a fat kid – I just thought I was. I actually have gone many years not even trying to lose weight because I thought, heck I'm just the fat one, why even try. I hope we can find ways to not pass this on to the next generation…
Meredith,
You have a gift for striking a chord. This hit so close to home for me and obviously for many others. I used to get "you could be so pretty if you would just lose weight". Every job I ever got was judged by my mother on the merits of whether or not it would make me skinny. I was discounted as an athlete not for my talent but because my mother knew fat girls couldn't do sports. Never mind that I cleaned up at every swim meet. Never mind that I loved it more than anything and worked my tail off. It wasn't making me skinny enough so it wasn't important.
After life totally broke me down and left me raw, I started to heal and accept myself on my own terms. It's a work in progress but for the first time in my life, I am doing something totally for myself. It has freed me from the need to apologize for it. It is liberating and I am finally shedding the pounds, but it took accepting myself (this is always in a state of flux) with all the extra weight to get there. Honestly, you are a part of that journey because you sometimes say the things I am feeling before I have quite figured them out. You have a gift for writing and a love for triathlon. The result of putting those two together has been pretty remarkable. You can do anything you put your mind to. I completely believe in you.
I was average size growing up…but always thought I was fat. Looking back, I was just plain crazy to think that. A girl once told me if I could pinch an inch I was way too fat, there were times I could pinch 3 (sometimes more) inches, today is one of them. What a downer.
My father thought the reason I was engaged after only 6 months of dating was because I was pregnant. When I assured him I wasn't he said, "Oh, I just see that you've gained some weight." It was honestly one of the worst days of my life…and that was my engagement party. I know he didn't believe me and I'm sure 9 months later was expecting a call to come meet his grandchild. Thanks Dad.
I've been able to lose 60 pounds of adult weight and keep it off for 3 years and still think I'm fat because I can pinch 3 inches on my stretch marked belly. I've done 7 triathlons and still compare myself to every hard body out there on the course. I qualified for a cycling challenge and in the finals round got it in my head that I would never win because I was double the size of 7 other women out there. Because of that lack in confidence and my inferiority complex my time was 3 minutes worse than my qualifying time.
Women of every size accomplish great things everyday. The reason is not our size, it's our attitude. Confidence and persistence brings us a long way.
So how do we break the cycle and teach our children what it is to be healthy and happy? We show them by example. We don't get disappointed before we leave the house because the pants we are wearing don't fit like they used to. We assure them everyday that their day is what they make it, and encourage them to dream big. We show them that despite what someone looks like, everybody has a purpose and everybody is capable of great things!
SBM, you are amazing! I too have been embarrassed to admit to some people that I tri. Because of this post, I'm changing my attitude. I will no longer come down on my poor swimming and running abilities. I will attack each event with a bad-arse attitude and say, "I've come a long way, it's time to take this B down!" My children think I'm AWESOME for tri'ing…time to show them the spirit of competition.
Keep up the good work! I hope to see you out on a course someday!
When I completed my first 1/2 iron distance and got the professional race pictures in my email, all I saw was how fat I looked. Imagine! Here I accomplished something huge – and all I saw was the size of my arms and legs. I did't see the stregnth or the determination or the hours of training. I saw a few extra inches. Stupid. I have a 9 year old daughter. She is fit, strong and thin. I will do everything I can for her to NEVER look at her race photos and ask "Do I look fat?" How do we change this in our society?
As usual I can relate. Whenever I mention anything about running to others I almost immediately regret it. I'm just certain that they are thinking something along the lines of "You? Run? Really? Good one!"
So how do we change that skewed, negative mind set that we have??? That's the million dollar question!! Why can't we see ourselves the way others really see us? ….because really, it's not about the fat. I may assume someone is looking at me thinking, "man, she's fat!" but what that really translates to, is me telling myself "you're not good enough!". If only we could get rid of that stupid inner voice!!!
FWIW I met Chrissie Wellington yesterday at a book signing and I felt the same way when she asked me if I was doing any racing this year ("uh, a couple of sprints…") This will pass!
Oh the things we do to ourselves, and our parents do to us (even though they mean well!)
I was a fat kids (not really, but I thought I was), and for me, at 15, yogurt, milk and an apple was my lunch – and I lost the weight. Then I gained it back. Then I lost it… you get the idea.
My son is 15, and "thick". He's not fat – but he's not fit either. But I refuse to let him call himself fat, and I will NOT refer to his weight as anything other than healthy. Why? Because he IS within a healthy range. He's a good looking, healthy kid. And I don't want him worrying about that.
Thank goodness I don't have girls… my obsession with my weight would have ruined them. 🙁
"What I am capable of doing is being clouded by the size of my arms." Yes! Thank you for voicing what I struggle with every day. I too long for the day when I have one race photo I like. I also measure my body against everyone else's when I'm at a race. I am embarrassed when someone asks me about doing tri's because I imagine they are thinking, "she doesn't look like she is an athlete," but what they're really probably thinking is, "wow, I could never do that." I don't know how to stop this negative self talk, but I know what helps – having kids. I never ever voice any of these negative things out loud in front of my kids. Instead I tell my daughter how much I love my strong arms, and I tell my son how proud I am to have finished a race. It doesn't completely get ride of the bad talk but it sure does quiet it. Perhaps by saying positive, self affirming things out loud I'll some day believe them. I wish we could all see ourselves for what we really are; strong, amazing, athletes.