Weight loss, constant improvement, and other terrible reasons to exercise
I was going to write a post about how I started and stuck with an exercise routine, but I have fallen off of it for a few weeks now. I was doing pretty well keeping up with it for about a month or two, and I felt the benefits: feeling stronger, more confident, more energetic. I think I stopped, at least in part, because I broke my own rules.
Going into the routine, I had to set boundaries. I have a history of body dysmorphia, and I knew that if I measured too many things that I would get obsessive about it, and it would do more harm than good to my mental health. I told myself I would not weigh myself, measure my waist, or count calories.
It was my mental health that this exercise was for, after all. Again, the body dysmorphia was and is a problem, so I did not want looks to be the primary focus of this exercise. A moderate exercise routine is good. Period. Doesn't matter what you look like before and after.
Of course, setting these boundaries did not stop me from looking in the mirror and hoping my arms got bigger and my stomach got smaller. It didn't stop me from trying to do my workout faster or with more reps each time and feeling defeated by how worn out that made me feel. That last part, I think, was the primary reason I stopped. I just substituted one arbitrary number for another in the calculation of my worth.
I do not want to be the kind of person that derives value from numbers or looks. I don't want to be the kind of person that glances at people and instantly decides how "disciplined" they must be from that glance alone.
We are currently in the midst of a Y2K fashion comeback, and with it, the return of absolutely absurd standards of skinniness. And, with the "miracle" weight loss drugs out there, it feels like there is an unspoken obligation to take them--not for medical reasons, but for aesthetic ones.1 There is always the unspoken rhetorical question, "If you can afford it, why not take it?" There is seemingly no such thing as too skinny.
The lowest weight I have ever been at my current height was 110 pounds, in high school. That was probably ten years ago now. I was so skinny that I stopped getting my period, which was something I didn't know could happen until that point. I had been working out every day and minimizing calorie intake whenever I could. I don't want to be there again. I scared myself.
The highest weight I have ever been at my current height was 178 pounds, a year or two ago. Within the span of a few months to a year, I had gained about 20 pounds. The kicker is that I had already felt insecure about my weight at 155. Losing weight doesn't take away the anxiety.
I am lucky enough to have friends and a partner who are also exhausted by the bullshit narrative of "skinny=good and fat=bad no matter what", which made it easier on me. That being said, it was hard not to feel shitty about gaining that weight anyway. I don't think I've ever seen a piece of media in which gaining weight was not framed as bad. It's an extremely difficult thing to unlearn.
I have lost those 20 pounds since then, but not fully on purpose, so I don't know how to feel about it. My doctor said I was healthy then, just a little high on bad cholesterol. I changed my diet a bit to help with the cholesterol, but honestly, the main reason I lost all that weight was because I (involuntarily)2 stopped taking testosterone and had less of an appetite. It wasn't a conscious decision.
My weight is on my mind way more often than I want it to be. I have enough other things to be anxious about that I really don't need another. I want to be the kind of person who is understanding and welcoming. I have listened to fat activists.3 I have heard the absolute vitriol that people receive just for how they look. If you think about the way society talks about fat and fat people for even a second, you realize how shitty and hypocritical it all is. Logic and empathy both go out the window.
I, personally, like body neutrality. It's sort of like body positivity, but it's less "every body is beautiful" and more "every body carries us through the day." It removes the moral judgement from one's physical appearance and acknowledges that it's really fucking hard to find yourself beautiful sometimes. But you know what? Your body is yours. You don't have to do anything with it. You don't even have to accept it as it is. But it exists, and it is yours. Do with that what you will.
I want to start up that exercise routine again, because it is good to exercise, especially since I've been struggling with depression. Maybe this time I will concentrate less on exactly what I do while exercising and more on the fact that I do it at all.
Notes
I want to be clear that I don't hate people who take these drugs for any reason. Those who take them for medical reasons are doing it for, well, medical reasons, so that's fine. And even those who take them for aesthetic reasons are responding to a ton of outside pressure from media and friends and family. I would not blame an individual for that. I blame society for instilling in us that it is always good to lose weight.↩
As soon as I can afford T again, I'm going back on it.↩
I think people who hear "fat" as a neutral descriptor for the first time kind of recoil, but consider this: we have so many euphemisms (plus-sized, big, etc.) to describe something that is just another part of the body, like your skin, bones, or muscles. We only make euphemisms for something if it is bad or uncomfortable to address. Why does fat fall into that category? Calling people skinny, bony, or muscular does not elicit the same visceral response as calling them fat. Why?↩