diet culture

To take care of myself in the months preceding my wedding I had to make a conscious effort to not dive into dieting. Wedding weight loss was off the list of things for me to do, or to even attempt.

For me, eating is like going to the dentist. I know I have see the dentist, but I don’t enjoy it. Eating three meals a day is like going to the dentist three times a day. For other people, a good meal is something to look forward to, and eating is a pleasure. For me, it’s work, it’s anxiety-inducing, and it’s not even sort of enjoyable.

Fat activism is one of the few branches of social justice in which fellow activists seem to feel entitled to comment, degrade, harass, and otherwise police the bodies of their peers.

Right before I had a baby, two years ago, I was happy (enough) with my weight. I ate what I wanted. I walked a lot. I felt strong.

I know that not everyone has the same appetite for The Vent, but when it comes to doing work around diet culture and fatphobia, venting is a powerful tool. For people who are in the process of healing from diet culture, we are often wading through an enormous ocean of misinformation, gas lighting and dirty ol’ lies. Without access to venting, our emotions and thoughts occur in sort of a vacuum where we can easily talk ourselves out of what may well be very astute analysis.

Here’s the dilemma I find myself facing pretty much every time I think about fat/weight/diabetes/bullshit sold to us by the media/mostly Weight Watchers: What is true?

I thought I had dealt with my body issues before I decided to do this shoot, but it turns out I was wrong.

I thought I had dealt with my body issues before I decided to do this shoot, but it turns out I was wrong.