It’s hard for most people to accept the idea that I may not want to change my body – that I may not want to spend my day racking up steps on a FitBit or use up six months recovering from a tummy tuck or commit to “losing the last 20 pounds” or spend 60 days doing some shred/cleanse that will help me “shrink the evidence” massive weight loss has left on my body. But here’s the thing: even if my body composition was something I could control (🙄🙄🙄can’t wait for the health and fitspo trolls to come after this one), even if dieting DID work (🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄), even if I could restrict my food without a massive psychological implosion – why should I have to? So what, because my body is not the ideal, I have an obligation to make my body my primary project for the rest of my life? I have to sacrifice my mind, my energy, my time, my schedule, my relationships, my plans, my goals, my dreams in pursuit of a flatter stomach and better toned arms? What if I say no? What if I decide I have more important things to worry about – like writing a book or going back to school or finding love and filling my life with adventures? What if we chose to stop “perfecting” our bodies like it’s all we’ve got to offer the world?
It's Complicated: White Women, White Men & White Supremacy