Hi! Welcome back to Jamie AF. It’s been a little over one week since my layoff and hoo boy, it’s seriously crazy getting laid off. Would much rather be getting laid!!!!!
OK. Sorry - let’s get this thing going.
First of all, apologies if you feel you’ve landed here under false pretenses but this is not going to be about what I eat in a day. It is going to be about eating though, which for me (and many people) can be a totally deranged experience.
I used to get a thrill when I managed to go a day without really eating a whole lot. It didn’t happen often and was always by accident, when the work or school day had gotten away from me or I’d been distracted by one of the other things I have a fraught relationship with -- like shopping.
“You didn’t eat enough,” someone would say, dopamine hit ensuing. Because what’s the point of eating/not eating at all if there’s not someone around to complain and/or brag about it to?
(Credit: okmoviequotes.com to which I say no quote from “Clueless” is just OK.)
If a weight-obsessed woman manages to deprive her body enough to get a glimpse of her ribs when she sucks in her stomach in front of the mirror that day and no one hears about it -- does it make a sound?
I felt that familiar swell of pride, thankfully far less familiar these days, in the shower last week. Things at work had gotten busy around lunchtime (this was pre-layoff) so I ditched my big plans for food processor tuna (if you’re not making your tuna in a food processor, really what are you doing? I found my go-to recipe after searching for “tuna salad that tastes like it’s from a bagel shop” ) and hastily scarfed a handful of dried roasted chickpeas washed down with leftover lukewarm coffee. Yum!
Now it was 5:00 PM and I was recounting, as we so often subconsciously do, the things I had -- or rather had not -- consumed.
My dog Joni was the only one around to hear me talk about it this time, and she quite simply cannot relate. She doesn’t care what she eats in a day so long as there is plenty of it. Also she is a dog.
I felt good, then bad for feeling good. Then proud that this feeling had become sort of foreign. Then cold (I’d turned the shower off). And then suddenly I felt like Kylie Jenner: just realizing stuff.
One year ago I’d been a regular at a group fitness class near my office downtown. Every morning (OK, almost every morning) I’d roll out of bed and out the door with minutes to spare and hustle to make it to my spot before warm up at 8:00 AM. It was an intense class, billed as a full mind and body experience. I’d trudge through it, pushing myself to the limit and beaming with pride at the end of every 50 minute sweat soaked class.
And wouldn’t you know? I still hated my body. Still congratulated myself for missing a meal. Still silently punished myself for indulging.
It didn’t make sense. I always felt great directly following the class, staring at my reflection in the steamy mirrored room. I’d been an advocate for “body positivity” since before that word made most people want to gauge their eyeballs out. I’d proudly remind everyone around me that exercise has just as many benefits for your mental health as it does physical. And I did feel strong -- and less anxious -- on days I worked out.
But — not skinny. So, still not what we’ve been conditioned to believe is attractive. So, still single. So, still not succeeding. So, still not “worthy.”
What in the ever loving fuck, right?
Are you surprised to hear that it took me until recently to shake this narrative? I was! To be clear — the above sentiment is not how I feel. But when you strip it down, look at the decisions you’ve made and the underlying reasons behind why you’ve made them (or, in my case, your therapist does), it’s impossible not to start questioning your motives.
What I realized, standing there waiting for my in-shower moisturizing oil to dry (this stuff is amazing) is that all of these things, all of my “efforts” to spread self-acceptance, all of my hours spent exercising -- weren’t for me. They felt like they were. But really, they were efforts to make other people (ahem, my grandmother, for example,) happy.
Even if I had awareness that the above was not true, I don’t think I really ever believed it until now. It took me this many years to realize I don’t even want to be “skinny!!!” I want to be strong! healthy! happy! The narrative has not been mine for a long, long time.
I gained about 15 pounds over the course of the pandemic. A number that would -- and did! -- send me into a shame, out-loud panic spiral when my doctor (who had survived severe COVID last year, by the way) broke the news. I’m, uh, not super proud of the way I handled hearing this news delivered from a man who spent days in the ICU fighting for his life.
See, I’d always been terrified of gaining weight, and equally fulfilled by inquiries as to whether or not I’d lost any (I have this theory that when you’re a fat kid people remember you as fatter than you are, so every time they see you they think you’ve lost some.)
I spent almost a year by myself during COVID before I realized I was never really alone. I was in my phone, distracting myself with a DIY project, on my phone some more. When I made a conscious effort to turn inward, be still, especially as it pertains to my relationship with health and fitness, the weight (whether it be up or down) my body -- all of it -- I, for the first time, started taking care of myself. For me! What a concept.
Now I do a low impact workout that doesn’t make me look at the clock every five minutes. I feel stronger than I felt killing myself every morning. I ask myself if I want to do that form of movement that day and if the answer is no, it’s no. Maybe that means it’s a run or long walk instead, maybe that means lifting weights at the gym (someday), dancing around my apartment. Maybe it’s nothing.
This is not a knock at boutique fitness or pushing yourself or working hard to achieve your fitness goals. I had wonderful experiences in that class and met great people who I felt real community with. It’s about questioning why your fitness goals are what they are in the first place. Or that’s what it was about for me.
For so long there was a disconnect between what I thought I was supposed to do and what I actually wanted to do: working out like a maniac but not thinking of my body as a place worthy of taking care of. Scrolling Instagram endlessly instead of working on something creative that I’ve been putting off (for the record I definitely still do this). Forgetting to take my goddamn vitamins -- they’re emblematic of the same theme: not feeling worthy enough to be good to yourself.
It took one shitty ass year (well, it really took 32 years but that’s a story for another time) to see the glaringly obvious. You are worthy of eating the foods that make your body feel good and doing the movement that makes you feel good, neither of which are a punishment or for anyone but you and neither of which are living beings that have feelings and/or emotions.
The truth is, we tell ourselves and others we’re not worthy in myriad ways. When we say yes to something we don’t have the emotional capacity to take on, when we put off writing a newsletter, when we drink and drink and drink (just me? Not judging, but definitely me) we are sending the message that we’re not worth the time and energy it takes to take care of ourselves in a meaningful way.
But once you see it, you can change it. What do you want to do today, eat today, consume today? Much like the “quarantine weight loss” pitches I was getting regularly when I still had a job, the rest of it, the external validation, can fuck right off.
So, uh, yeah. This wasn’t about “what I eat in a day.” But here are a few things I’ve been eating, drinking & loving as of late:
This Jacques Torres chocolate chip cookie recipe.
And this Mediterranean pasta salad recipe that I definitely did not find on TikTok.
Melissa Wood Health’s low impact workouts.
Lunar Hard Seltzer (flavors include lychee, yuzu & plum. Come on).
This Lumene CC cream (my skin is the worst it’s been in a long time but friends recently accused me of “glowing” while I was wearing this).
And my new ring light (It’s from Amazon, sorry, but it’s GOOD).
I promise these won’t always be so heavy, or long! And I’d love to know what is -- and is not -- working for you. About this newsletter, but you know, also in life.
Love,
Jamie AF
I have never felt more heard or seen by an essay from the deeply vulnerable thoughts around our relationship with our body, to what we "should" be / do / have, to the cultural references to Kylie Jenner - this was incredible!
Makes me feel less alone