I'm watching a documentary titled "America the Beautiful" (2007). It chronicles today's fixation on appearance. The narrator follows various people in the beauty in-crowd and asks them, "are you accountable for anorexia, bulimia, and general low self-esteem of American women?" The answer is a resounding "no." It is as if the disease of self-obsession entered society as a mysterious fog that invaded our lungs simultaneously---nobody is to blame, and nobody can escape.
Few escape the fog. Those who do are mostly the people who are not able to critically think. Then again, if you're running on a handful of romaine lettuce, how can you think at all?
To be honest, I spent today worrying about how many blueberries and packets of splenda I dumped into my plain yogurt. Was I serving myself too much? I didn't want to go over my limit of 1300 calories.
My grandfather died last week. I have been on a semi-diet since then, reducing my caloric intake from 1700 calories to 1100 one day, 1010 the next. Grief made me think less critically about what I'm doing to my body. I have become obsessed with a number: 161, and how I can't make it drop more than 2 pounds below 161. Rather than feel pride that I've already lost 25 pounds since this April, I feel shame for my current weight. Rather than think about what my grandfather would have wanted---to be healthy, I started to procrastinate on my University term papers and closely monitor every portion of food I ate and every beverage I drank. I wake up, check the weight, make a food menu (vegetables with coffee, with some stuffing since it's Thanksgiving), and spend my days thinking about how I'm going to prepare that zucchini. I think about how I'm still sitting on the BMI fence between overweight and obese at 161 and 5'1 or 5'2. I think I can't stand another day of flabby belly and thunder thighs.
My research on linguistics sits untouched by my bed as I sit at my computer, mindlessly playing "Top of the World" by the Cataracs and wondering why I can't look like the Viddie girls. Then I started shopping on amazon dot com for movies on getting thin. I stumbled on "America the Beautiful" and I watched the trailer, thinking it would be another marketing movie that plays up the worth of vapid, egotistical supermodels and sends a message of hate and contempt to the everyday woman. Instead, I found a poignant, moving, and often disturbing view into our society and our drive to obtain a Western ideal of beauty.
Something dawned on my as I clicked the "rent now" button on amazon dot com: I'm not getting paid to give a shit about how I look. I'm getting grant money to write papers and learn the theory of linguistics. The real reason why I'm suddenly unhealthy in my diet is because I did horrible on several home-work assignments which I had to complete while my grandfather was in the morgue. First, I lose the only father-figure I have. Next, I lose my borderline A grade in two of my classes. I'm not afraid that I won't be able to lose another 25 pounds. I'm afraid I'll fail out of college and break the vow I made to my grandfather when he was on his deathbed. I'm fixated on weight and beauty right now because I feel like I failed in the part of my life that actually matters: my education.
Thank you, "America the Beautiful", for putting my priorities back in order. I am not what I look like, I am what I accomplish in life with my mind and my actions.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have some homework to complete. :)
Few escape the fog. Those who do are mostly the people who are not able to critically think. Then again, if you're running on a handful of romaine lettuce, how can you think at all?
To be honest, I spent today worrying about how many blueberries and packets of splenda I dumped into my plain yogurt. Was I serving myself too much? I didn't want to go over my limit of 1300 calories.
My grandfather died last week. I have been on a semi-diet since then, reducing my caloric intake from 1700 calories to 1100 one day, 1010 the next. Grief made me think less critically about what I'm doing to my body. I have become obsessed with a number: 161, and how I can't make it drop more than 2 pounds below 161. Rather than feel pride that I've already lost 25 pounds since this April, I feel shame for my current weight. Rather than think about what my grandfather would have wanted---to be healthy, I started to procrastinate on my University term papers and closely monitor every portion of food I ate and every beverage I drank. I wake up, check the weight, make a food menu (vegetables with coffee, with some stuffing since it's Thanksgiving), and spend my days thinking about how I'm going to prepare that zucchini. I think about how I'm still sitting on the BMI fence between overweight and obese at 161 and 5'1 or 5'2. I think I can't stand another day of flabby belly and thunder thighs.
My research on linguistics sits untouched by my bed as I sit at my computer, mindlessly playing "Top of the World" by the Cataracs and wondering why I can't look like the Viddie girls. Then I started shopping on amazon dot com for movies on getting thin. I stumbled on "America the Beautiful" and I watched the trailer, thinking it would be another marketing movie that plays up the worth of vapid, egotistical supermodels and sends a message of hate and contempt to the everyday woman. Instead, I found a poignant, moving, and often disturbing view into our society and our drive to obtain a Western ideal of beauty.
Something dawned on my as I clicked the "rent now" button on amazon dot com: I'm not getting paid to give a shit about how I look. I'm getting grant money to write papers and learn the theory of linguistics. The real reason why I'm suddenly unhealthy in my diet is because I did horrible on several home-work assignments which I had to complete while my grandfather was in the morgue. First, I lose the only father-figure I have. Next, I lose my borderline A grade in two of my classes. I'm not afraid that I won't be able to lose another 25 pounds. I'm afraid I'll fail out of college and break the vow I made to my grandfather when he was on his deathbed. I'm fixated on weight and beauty right now because I feel like I failed in the part of my life that actually matters: my education.
Thank you, "America the Beautiful", for putting my priorities back in order. I am not what I look like, I am what I accomplish in life with my mind and my actions.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have some homework to complete. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment
No spam or hate mail, please. Thanks for your interest!