Okay, leave it to me to follow up my feminist rant with one about my weight. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bug me that after a week of eating well, avoiding alcohol, and doing yoga nearly everyday I actually gained a pound. Yes, we went all out last night for Erich's birthday (pecan crusted goat-cheese balls with red pear, thai steak, and devil'sfood cake w/vanilla bean sauce), but I know better than to think one meal can have that kind of effect.
Anyway, what I'm taking from this week was that I felt good all week-good about my food choices, good about avoiding alcohol (I'm pretty sure my poor liver appreciated it) and good about the yoga. Slowly but steadily I will make the choices that lead to a stronger, healthier me. It's a fine line, because often there's often the implication that a feminist shouldn't care about her weight-but that's a fallacy. It lends to the stereotype so brilliantly propagated (by those who benefit from women's oppression) that feminists are man-hating, fat, and ugly, and their real beef is that they can't get laid. If we were prettier we wouldn't be so pissed off. My mind and body function as a whole, and the sharpening of my intellect coincides with the sharpening of my body. If I'm feeding myself crap, not only does my body suffer, but my mind slows and becomes clouded.
Of course we all know how much I like wine. But with the unfailing support of my husband I'm changing my life (which I'll write more about as things progress). I don't so much feel like I'm changing but finally respecting myself enough to live the way I want (need) to instead of how I have told myself that I should.
"Suppose you had the revolution you are talking and dreaming about. Suppose your side had won, and you had the kind of society that you wanted. How would you live, personally, in that society? Start living that way now!"
Paul Goodman (1911-1972) Author and sociologist.
Kind of obvious, right? Yet sometimes I'm oblivious to even the simplest things.
1 comment:
Do it for a month, then weigh yourself. One week isn't long enough for you to notice a difference. I ran across the same thing in Baghdad; I weighed myself after two weeks and found I had actually gained weight. I made adjustments (starting eating even more vegetables and even fewer carbs, and by exercising even more), and before long, I was losing weight like crazy.
And I'm a dude. If an old sergeant like me can obsess over losing weight while deployed to a war zone, you can too. No feminist implications in that, as far as I'm concerned, as long as you're doing it for yourself.
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