So I have had the idea of this blog rolling around in my head for about a month. I knew it wouldn’t have much of a central purpose because my thought process is not put together enough on most days to talk about one subject consistently.
Last week when Kate Harding published this post I had so much to say I waited a full day to comment and tried to make it brief because I knew most of my thoughts were rapidly approaching a tangent and I didn’t want to derail the thread too much. So I decided to go ahead and sign up for my username and begin with my thoughts on the fantasy of being thin.
As it stands it’s taken me a few days to get this put together. The Fantasy of Being Thin goes so deep and is so connected with everything else that it’s hard to pry it out and examine it.
When I’m thin I’ll…
Run a marathon
Backpack in eastern Oregon
Make myself up every day
Go to the clubs
Run a Marathon: I’ve never been a runner, not when I was a skier, not when I was a dancer, not when I was a cheerleader. Sometime, somewhere it got in my head that I would be “thin enough” if I could run a marathon. I’ve taken up and dropped running in the past because it didn’t make me thin enough. Right now The Boy and I have started running a bit a few times a week. I am making a very very conscious effort to make this about being fit and in better condition than about losing weight or dress sizes. This is hard.
Backpack through eastern Oregon: I love the mountains in eastern Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness. We used to camp there when I was a kid, they are empty and peaceful and truly wild. I am not in good enough condition to backpack through there for several days without completely wimping out. In my head this has translated to “I need to lose 30 lbs before I can do this” instead of “I need to be physically able to carry around a 30-50 lbs pack before I do this” so rather than try to actually condition my body to take on the feat I’ll be asking of it, I pitied myself for not losing enough weight.
Strip: I don’t know what to say about this. It’s more of a sexual fantasy really like “when I’m thin men will give me money to see me naked because I’ll be so hot and sexy” Intellectually I know that I would not like to wrap up my self worth (and actual monetary worth) in the level of desire men feel for my body which, seeing as it’s a real human body, will never be perfect.
Dress Better: I’m what I guess the fatosphere calls an “in-betweenie” or whatever because I’m not generally plus size, and I can usually make skirts and dresses work in straight sizes (I’m a 12-14). I don’t really have fat as an excuse for dressing like a slob for several reasons 1) women much fatter than me can dress better than I usually do 2) I can 80% of the time fit into the largest straight size at normal (not boutique or designer) straight stores. 3) I can sew and adjust patterns to fit me. So clearly what keeps me from dressing as classically professional and put together as I’d like is not my fat. I suspect it’s because I’m too lazy to sew a whole wardrobe and too cheap to buy nice clothes that I like and too lazy to put together interesting outfits.
Make myself up every day: This is loosely related to Dress better, but even less related to my size since there is no known link between fat and the ability to do ones hair and makeup. The sad cold truth is as much as I love doing my makeup and hair and being really satisfied with my appearance there is very little I will ever love more than sleeping as late as possible. The End.
Go to the clubs: I can go to the clubs, look fine, dance and get all the male attention I could want just the size I am. When I want to be I have a really visible confidence that people are attracted to and that makes going out a lot of fun. BUT I still sit there moping and hating the skinny girls out on the dance floor taking up no space with their skanky outfits and… *sigh* yuck.
So, there it is, my fantasy of being thin. I feel kind of naked having laid it all out there like that.