Have you read Kate Harding’s amazing piece on the fantasy of being thin? (Sorry, I can’t remember whose blog directed me there.) It’s two years old now, but if you haven’t read it, you should. I can make myself a cup of tea while you’re doing that.
I always thought I didn’t buy into the fantasy of being thin. Sure, I’d like to lose some weight, but it isn’t something I think about all the time. Or even half the time. But after reading Harding’s piece I realised that my little daydreams about my future always involve me looking thinner. Sexier. In a pair of awesome boots. Because I’ll suddenly know what I want to do with my life once I lose 5 kilos. And I’ll find a job that is intellectually stimulating if I can fit into smaller clothes. I’ll also find a great pair of jeans, despite the fact that I’ve not seen a great pair of jeans on anyone since bootcut actually meant bootcut. (Don’t believe anyone who says curvy women should wear jeans with stretch in them. It’s a lie perpetuated by thin fashion editors to make you look like shit. Stretch in denim will make your jeans scream THIGHS!)
Besides, when I lose 5 kilos, my PhD will write itself.
And I’ll be able to sing like Deborah Conway.
The thing is, I’ve been thin. I’ve also been really thin and there still wasn’t any lightbulb moment. I just looked unwell.
All of these things I can do without losing 5kg. (Well, apart from singing like Deborah Conway. Even if I lost 10kg that’d never happen.) I’ve just gotta get off my arse and stop thinking my arse will fix everything.
So, I’m in the market for some motivation. Anyone got some?