Learning to See the Avoided Fat Body

Me now.

In the last few months, I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror. That’s an old behavior. What is new is that I now look at all of my body, instead of the few inches of which I’m not ashamed.

I don’t remember when I stopped looking at my body, or if I ever even started. Like many women—especially fat women (or those afraid of being fat)—I’ve long judged and avoided my body, and considered it (and myself) ugly. I long ago learned to look selectively. Even as a skinny kid, I would only look at my face (and just the parts of it, like my eyes and cheekbones, which I considered less ugly) and avoid the rest. I lived from the neck up long before I’d ever heard that phrase.

Being a survivor of sexual abuse was a part of it, certainly; I rejected my body because it had not protected me in my time of need (and had betrayed me, too. Long deprived, I always hungered for any kind of physical contact). A therapist once assigned me the task of looking at seven-year-old girls, the age of the first sexual abuse I remember. “You’ll see how small little girls are,” she said, “and so helpless.” She was right, of course. (Even years afterwards, I’d still turn away and cry whenever I’d just glance at one of those small faces atop a set of tiny limbs.)

For decades—the skinny ones and the fat—I didn’t know what my body looked like because I didn’t look; I was afraid to look, and I was ashamed to look. I wore poorly-fitting and shapeless clothes to camouflage what I did not want to see. I ordered clothes by mail for convenience and to avoid the visibility (and potential shame) of shopping in public. The idea that I could wear clothes to highlight or accentuate my body was an unknown concept. Of course I preferred to make love in the dark, and struggled to accept the slow caress, the lingering, tender gaze.

Exhibit A: Shapeless clothes (2010)

For the last several months, however, I’ve been using mirrors, cameras, and a tape measure to learn myself, a kind of training in seeing. It is as if I am seeing myself for the first time, seeing what I actually look like, compared to the image I carry around in my head. I also now know that I've spent years seeing myself from outside, as one viewed. I am learning how to see myself and my world from behind my own eyes.

One of the benefits of this training is that I can now tell when I’m doing a “perfect parts” self-gaze, versus simply seeing my body. Also, I no longer measure my appearance based on others’ attention because I now have my own base of knowledge. I know, too, that there is a difference between how my body feels to me and how it looks. Because of my increased muscle tone, for example, I feel (and am) sleeker. I am still carrying excess fat, however, so am still bulgy around my stomach, upper thighs, and butt. 
I can’t (yet) say that I love my body, but I am becoming familiar with it, have learned to see it, and do so with diminishing shame.

From Here to There: Photos (NSFW!)

Today I compared two sets of back/butt photos I've taken since making major changes to my food in March and re-starting weightlifting in May.
I find a couple of things interesting: (1) the weight difference is small (only 11 pounds), but the size difference (particularly in my hips, butt, and arms) is quite noticeable; (2) I would look even fatter if my arms weren't raised in the first photo; (3) I eat about 40% more calories now than I did at the beginning; and (4) I never realized how square my butt was!

 

The original photos were fuzzy as my forward-facing phone camera is only 3M pixels,so I sharpened and slightly lightened both photos w/Microsoft Picture Manager. They're still not great, but better. Those were, however, the only changes.

The Looking

What happens when I add a much-increased awareness of my electrolytes, regular weightlifting , and eating (mostly) clean and low-carb? I am feeling better, physically, emotionally and mentally, certainly. I'm about 9 inches smaller, though have lost little weight. I am also aware of others' gazing at me, and my own increased satisfaction when I look at myself.

From www.hellobeautiful.com

In the past, I would feel anxious and unsafe if I felt I was attractive to others. I would frequently disassociate while emotionally fearing a risk of harm, particularly sexual assault. (Not surprising, of course, for someone who survived childhood physical and sexual abuse.) I would either (a) stop taking care of myself and absent-mindedly begin to eat in ways that didn't serve me or (b) absent-mindedly get in a relationship--with someone else.
Today, I don't have that low-level anxiety and fear humming inside me; I know I can protect and care for myself. Being attractive is no longer about being at risk.
I came to this place, I think, over the last couple of years. For example, last year I bought more attractive and dressier clothes--even had many of the pieces tailored. I believed that I was worth the expense, and was pleased with how good I felt in those clothes and how attractive I looked (and look) in them.
My current sense of well-being and attractiveness, then, has a foundation of self-satisfaction. Years ago, I would be focused only on how others saw me, not at all how I felt about myself, or what I thought of my appearance. I'm so glad that's changed.

Updated: Should I Eat Sucralose While Low-Carbing?

The answer, for me, is no: sucralose makes me hungrier and less satisfied with the food I eat. I also feel swollen when I consume it.

In my recent review of Dr. Bernstein's The Diabetes Diet, I mentioned that he was a big user of artificial sweenteners, and that they--particularly liquid sucralose--featured prominently in several of the book's recipes. I like sweets, and am trying to keep my carbs low, so bought a smallish bottle of liquid sucralose (the powders, such as Splenda, contain a small amount of dextrose, a sugar; the liquids, such as DaVinci syrups, do not) at a local discount store. 

This was not my first time at the sucralose rodeo. I used it last year, mostly in cups of tea. At the time I was eating a fair amount of carbs, so I didn't notice whether the sweetener (which the body does not digest) was affecting my weight or the way I felt.

Da Vinci syrup.

Artificial sweeteners are a contentious issue among low-carbers. Here, the Hardcore Chef (in a bit of a glib manner) lays out some of the pros and cons; note, especially, the reports of sucralose's effect on gut flora. Sucralose, even in a flavored syrup, tastes nothing like sugar, and the taste isn't particularly satisfying. My mouth feels cheated whenever I consume an artificial sweetener ("But where's the sugar?!?" it seems to be saying).

This week, I've used sucralose in tea (again) and an avocado-based mousse (which is normally sweetened with mashed dates). I've already noticed several changes after I started using it. First, my body seemed congested, swollen, as if I was having some systemic inflammation. And I was hungrier and not (as I have been) satiated by medium-fat and -protein meals. In fact, I craved carbs. Yesterday, I exceeded my daily carb limit (but about 15 grams). I've also not lost any weight.

I trust my body: No more sucralose for me.
6/22 Update: Ack! I forgot that I made a recent batch of salad dressing with sucralose. After just 4 bites of the salad (and mind you, I used less than 2 tablespoons of the dressing on it) I started getting a headache and--this was weird--begin feeling like my body was swelling or thickening. Then my stomach began to get funky.
This was all very curious--until I remembered the Hardcore Chef's mention of headaches as problem for some who consumed sucralose.
So, down the drain went the salad dressing. I drank a lot of water, took some taurine and B-vitamins, and will soon be eating some sauerkraut to boost gut flora likely decimated by the sucralose.
I'm especially pissed, however, as I'm doing my weekly weighing tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure the news won't be good.

Getting More Hardcore with Carbs

Lowering the amount of carbohydrates I consume is a major part of my food changes, primarily because of the link between sugar and diabetes, a family history of diabetes, and an A1C (blood glucose test diabetes) level of 5.5. As well, I am and feel bloated, sluggish, and sometimes ache when I consume lots of carbs.
My definition of "lots of carbs" keeps changing. Two years ago, I regularly consumed 400-500 grams of carbs daily (if not more--easy to do with the mounds of rice and oatmeal I ate). Even when I cut back and started tracking my nutritional intake, I never really measured all of the carbs I ate--I didn't count the ones in vegetables or coconut milk, for example. (And then I just stopped counting carbs at all...)
Carb Consciousness: Take II
I'm again back to being conscious about what and how I eat, and have been slowly edging toward getting my carbs down to 40, and then 30 grams daily.
That is a massive, massive change. I've been aiming in that direction for the last few days, and it is very challenging.
Now I'm asking myself, "Why? Why 30?" It is, of course, to get myself into losing weight more quickly by triggering ketosis, and burning fat. Now, I've lost 9 pounds in about 5 from going to the gym (kind of) regularly, eating lots more vegetables, boosting the protein a smidge, and cutting back (but not eliminating) fruit and chocolate. That rate of weight loss must not be enough for me. I want, no crave--more, faster.

For the last couple of days I've been using Ketolog, a great, simple and free Android carb-tracking program. The information I've gleaned is eye-opening. I tracked the carbs for everything I ate in my first meal of the day, including the spinach and garlic and eggs. Those, plus 4 ounces of sweet potato, got me to 40--in one meal.
So, for now, I'm just going to focus on a goal of 60 daily grams of carbs, and call it good.

What's Going Well

I think I've been a bit unbalanced in my self-reporting.
Several people (including strangers!) said I'm excessively self-critical. I admit I do have tendencies in that direction.
So this post reviews some of the benefits I've received from the changes in my food, myself, and the process of change.
I am much more conscious of the food I eat.  Tracking my food, observing how my body responds to the food I do eat (and, in some cases, when I eat it) has provided me many pluses. For example, I:

• Recognize much more quickly when I am eating for avoidance/to numb out versus easing hunger.
• Eat smaller quantities of food than before.
• (Usually know) when I am hungry and what it is I need to eat.
• Generally eat a lot less compulsively and inattentively than before.

I am feeling physically better than I have in quite a long time. Until I made major changes to my food (I'm referring here to letting go of dairy, grains, most sugar, peanuts, and most roasted nuts) I had no idea how many of the limitations I'd grown used to were related to food. Since then, I'm:

• Much more flexible. For example, I no longer lean on something while I bend down to put the cat dish on the floor, and no longer need to do a 3-point, 2-position maneuver to stand up after sitting on the floor.
• A whole lot less bloated.
• Digesting my food more completely.
• Feeling a lot less congested in my body.
• Haven't gotten sick, and heal much more quickly from cuts and scratches (from my cats).
• Carrying around a much smaller belly.
• Much more conscious and happy with my physical self.
• Feeling sexy and attractive in ways I've not in quite a while.
• Feeling a lot less self-conscious (which is a great match with the previous bullet point, yes?).

Boosting my protein intake in the first half of the day has really helped my memory, recall, attention span, stamina, and work output,, while reducing brain fog. Who knew?
I now eat around 100 grams of protein daily, always in the first two meals of the day. When I don't, I see a clear drop off in my recall and memory first, and then the attention span gets shot to hell (it's still a challenge, but gets even worse without sufficient protein).

My experimentation and spirit of inquiry has made it possible for me to now judge much less harshly my process, weight, and myself.  A speaker at a 12-step meeting I attended recently used a phrase that has stuck with me. "I was locked and loaded," he said, "on a fixed idea."
That was me--with my food, my concept of what I needed to do, and how I was going to do it. My original goal was to go nearly or completely all-raw, with my protein from nut and other plant sources (e.g., soy). I was not going to eat sugar, and I certainly saw no need (and had zero desire) to track, much less measure, my food. And I certainly was not going to weigh myself for at least 90 days. In fact, for months I didn't care to admit that weight had anything to do with why I was making changes.
Now I'm hammering 3 eggs and 2 pieces of meat daily. I don't eat soy. I'm testing  to see whether or not I can have some sugars (e.g., agave, honey, and cane sugar). I (generally) measure and write down the food I eat (I'm now writing it down before I eat it, to see how that affects the volume of food I eat). I weigh myself weekly, and write that down, too.
There is a wonderful ease and acceptance I've gained. I put on 1.5 pounds last week (and a pound the week before that), yet I'm not freaked out, I'm not muscling myself; I'm breathing and being with ease.  I realize I haven't been eating nearly the amount of vegetables I was last month, so I've eaten more this week. I'll weigh myself next Tuesday, and perhaps make adjustments. I might, for example, see what happens if I reduce the amount of coffee (and the coconut milk I put in it), or not eat any sweeteners.
My point is:  I'm not acting out of shame or fear (nearly as much); I'm much less reactive, too. What freedom.

Bearing Witness

Talking with and hearing other inquisitive, seeking women on the path to body and food health and sanity is quite the gift.

For the last few months, I’ve been privileged to attend a Women & Food Group organized by my friend Jill (over at Sober Truths: The Making of an Honest Woman). We meet monthly at meetings that last 1 ¼ hours (though the more loquacious types like me could easily go on for twice that time). Today we had September’s meeting.

Usually there are 4-6 of us. I’m in a writing group with two of the women, knew another many years ago, and was brand-new to two others. We talk about food and food challenges, but each of is on a different food and eating paths. We are all different sizes and weights, and within 10-15 years in age.

The meeting mechanics are simple: we say our hellos, then settle down (and in). Jill rings the chime, and says a short centering invocation (today’s including thoughts for those who did not have enough to eat, and for those who eat too much). Next, we each check in, review progress on the intention(s) we set the previous month. For example, I set four intentions last month, including getting Martha Beck’sThe Four-Day Win: End Your Diet War and Achieve Thinner Peace, and writing a list of 50 pleasures. 

I did write the list (on the bus to the meeting!), but didn’t do the others. There’s no shaming about what we do or don’t, whether we add intentions, change our minds, or anything else. Usually there’s no commenting on someone else’s check-in or intentions. If there is, it’s usually of the general variety.

We then have a general discussion (most of the women are reading and doing the exercise in Beck’s book, so that’s a common topic), and close with setting the intentions for the next month. 

The Gifts

The group provides several benefits to me. One is that I get to hear myself outside of my head, talk about where I am with my body and food. Today, for example,  Shannon talked about how she eats better—prepares better food, eats more regularly, and more appropriate portions—when people are staying in her home. We all had similar experiences, and discussed why we don’t give the same care and attention to good food for ourselves when we are alone.

I talked of a different difficulty: taking care of myself when eating with others. I’d previously mentioned how I over-ate “good” food at a Chinese restaurant (even though I’d planned to take half the food home). Today I talked about making dinner (tofu curry) recently for my friend Michelle. I didn’t make anything for myself (significant as I am not now eating soy), and ate the curry (which was good). It caused a bit of “gastric distress.” I also have been measuring my food and logging the info, and I didn’t do either one that night.

I was aware of all that before the meeting. What I didn’t recognize until the meeting, however, was that I haven’t measured or recorded any of my food since that meal (the last three days), and have been snacking a lot on nuts (especially cashews).

In the telling, I got to see the string—what followed that experience of not taking care of myself. I didn’t have to get into or create a story of the why. The meeting gave me the opportunity to be again awake about my food consumption. I started measuring and recording my food after tonight’s dinner.

Having others bear witness to my changes is another gift of being public with the same women about food. Lily mentioned she is getting a new, smaller refrigerator (to replace the 30-year-old one that is now “talking” at night), and how she’s now comfortable with seeing less food in it—and her pantry—after years of having them both well-stocked with food (and being fearful at the prospect of them not being so).

I mentioned it was easier now for me to look in the fridge and not be anxious at the smaller amounts of food inside. Jill reminded me what a change that was for me. True that. A few months ago, I would never have imagined being able to look into a near-empty refrigerator with anything but anxiety and a sense of loss.

A big gift, of course, is learning from each other. I usually jot notes down at each meeting—nothing extensive, usually phrases or ideas that resonate for me or are ideas I want to explore. Today, for example:

• It is OK to be small
• Doing a 4^th step inventory on my body (Stephanie Covington, A Woman's Way Through the 12 Steps)—inventorying beliefs, behaviors, attitudes
• Changing eating is not about food, but being happy and satisfied in our lives
• Pathways to reducing attachment disorder

We also share resources. Today Jill loaned me her copy of David Kessler’s The End of Overeating:Taking Control of the Insatiable American Appetite. When I finish, Pam will get it, and then Shannon. In between meetings, we sometimes email one another with links to resources.

 

Adjustments

I don’t prepare much before the meetings, and now see that I can both make better use of them and learn more about myself if I do. For example, both Jill and Lily generally come to each meeting with observations about themselves they’ve made over the month. In contrast, I fly in there with ideas I’ve gathered on the bus ride over. As I want to be even more conscious (more awake) about eating and myself, I’m putting weekly check-in appointments (just 7 minutes) on my calendar. I’ll see how that goes.

So Consider

Jill invited me into this Women & Food Group, but the model is a simple one that any group of women (or men) could easily adopt (and adapt). I would encourage anyone getting conscious about food to consider participating in or starting one.

Update: How Now

It's been about 3 weeks since I radically changed my food and how I eat (again). This post details what I'm doing, what's happened, and how I feel about it.

What I'm Doing Now

• I eat about 100-120 grams of protein a day, mostly at breakfast and lunch (I usually don't eat dinner as the large volume of protein pretty much carries me through the day). I also now eat about 70 grams of carbohydrates (either pinto beans or lentils) daily.
• I eat a lot of eggs and meat--a lot. Breakfast is usually 3 eggs with a 4 oz hamburger patty and 1/2 cup of pinto beans. Lunch is either another 1/2 cup of beans, more hamburger (or seafood--I really like salmon, but also eat cheaper fish and scallops. I don't eat farmed seafood) and lots of vegetables--I was eating loads of raw spinach, avocados, and tomatoes for quite a bit. Now its more zucchini (cooked), or tomatoes and sprouts (raw). I feel a broccoli phase coming on, though...
• For some reason, chicken doesn't "work" as well for me as a protein source as beef, so I don't eat it (and I stopped consuming soy products a while ago as I don't tolerate them well).
• I've (mostly) stopped eating fruit (except for blueberries and dried mulberries) as I seem to be extra sensitive to sugar (and more so as I walk this food path).
• I am now drinking coffee again. I'd stopped as I  hadn't found a good (nondairy) milk replacement, and un-milked coffee is hard for me to take. I now use coconut milk (but religiously check the label, as some brands contain rice flour/powder, and I'm not eating rice.)
• I've been able to add back small amounts of goat milk products, which is great. I sometimes use goat milk in my coffee, and have been eating a little goat cheese, too.
• As you can see, the range of food I eat is quite narrow. That is not unlike my food pattern before starting on this path, but the foods are quite different. I'm fine with it.
• At the end of August (and in spite of earlier protestations), I started capturing in my food journal what and when I ate. I write down the amount of food. It's pretty simple because I'm generally eating the same things most days. 
• I've set up an Excel spreadsheet, and am slowly entering the journal info. The spreadsheet which automatically calculates (for each food I enter) the protein, carb, fat and calorie counts.
• I'm now weighing myself weekly. I've logged the info in my food journal these last 3 weeks.

What's Happened

• The protein and the volume of food have really made a difference. That crushing, aching fatigue is nearly gone, as is the brain fog and sluggishness. I am now marveling at how much I was able to do (not at all well, of course) feeling as shitty as I was for so many months My stamina has improved, too. The ADD also is less dominant. It's easier for me to stay on task, to complete projects, and I get frustrated a lot less easily. All good.
• My weekly weight loss has ranged from 2.4 to 3.7 lbs in the last three weeks. From July 1 and 30 August I lost about 25 lbs, an average of 2.4 lbs a week. 
• It's too soon to tell if my food changes are/will affect the rate of weight loss (and I may even gain weight). 
• I stopped working out at the gym (even walking very much) in July-early August as I just didn't have the energy. I'm pretty sure I'll go back next week as I'm feeling a lot stronger.
•  The look of my body has changed. My belly is protruding a lot less, my upper arms are smaller, and I could carry a coupla rolls of quarters in each bra cup now. I also am losing fat from my face, so it has gotten saggy. Why does this surprise me? Yet it does. Now my neck looks bigger. Odd. 

 How It Feels

•  I'm pleased that I'm now more flexible on this path, much more so than when I started in June.
• The food "data capture" is emotionally challenging. I'm glad I'm doing it (for a lot of reasons, mostly to ensure I get the protein I need), but I miss the alluring fantasy always available in the not knowing. There, I can fill the future with hopes, without having to be so awake, so conscious of the results of my choices. So there's a thrill that's gone, a lost expectation of some kind of future magic awaiting me.
• As for the rest (and related, surely), most of my meals and days are full of a  feeling of plodding along, and who wants to plod?
• I feel disappointed (and, curiously, ashamed) that I'm spending time in data capture, particularly about my weight. I want these changes to be about my health, damn you, not the weight. I don't want to be concerned about my weight, would like not to be, but am. And I hate that. But why do I think I am immune--unlike millions of other people--to our culture's praise of/fawning over skinny women, and shaming of the fat ones like me?
  Eleanor Kohlsaat (at the Make Friends With Food blog) captures it well when she writes,

I’ve talked with a lot of people who say health is their number-one priority, but when it comes right down to it, weight loss is what they care about the most. And this is not surprising: in our culture, we equate thinness not only with happiness and success, but also with health. That’s the message we get from our friends, our family, TV, the Internet, and even the medical community. Weight loss will make us healthy. Weight loss at any cost.

So that's where I've been, and where I am.

197.6: What Kinda Call Number is That?

 http://www.artdetoilette.com/

That's the most recent (Tuesday) reading on my scale. And I cannot believe all of the ways those digits affect(ed) me.

• I was pleased to weigh less than 200 pounds. Why? What was/is of significance about that number? I didn't even know, until then, that this was a line of demarcation I'd held and valued. What do I think is on the other side of 200? It must be my shame number, my embarrassment number. Curiously 198--just 2 pounds lighter--isn't.
  I absolutely hate that my sense of self and value can be turned on and off like a light switch by something so insignificant. And yet that is the truth for me today.
• I had the strongest urge to "double down," to "muscle" myself to faster weight loss, in spite of what I've recently learned about this form of self-betrayal and self-harm. And that, of course, is about willfulness, one of my (many) character challenges. 
• Memories of past laxative use to lose weight passed through my mind. 
• I got a surge of fear about being stuck at this weight, and that not being a good thing.

Off My Chest

For much of my life I've walked around with almost the weight of four, 5-lb bags of flour strapped to my chest: my breasts. And I've always loved breasts--mine, and other women's.
However, I haven't loved the way men have stared at me, or freely commented about them. I got my first dose of that when I was 15. A man with a greasy smirking face walked up to me one summer day and asked, "Have you been sick lately?" "No," I said. "Why do you ask?" He could barely contain himself. "Because your chest is all swollen!" And then he stood there smiling, while I couldn't understand why big titties was a sign of ill health (and I

Resting the Whip Hand

 Pema Chodron is a Tibetan Buddhist, teacher, and explicator (with a wicked sense of humor). Recently I've been listening to her teachings on learning to stay--to stay present, and not get hooked by the urge to turn away from this moment, using food (or anger, or judgement, or alcohol, etc.) to do so. 
She talks, too, about being gentle with ourselves as we look at what we do and learn to live differently. She says,

It has to be done in some way that you equate it with loving kindness towards yourself, friendliness and warmth towards yourself, rather than equating it with some kind of straight jacket that you're putting on yourself, because then you get into the struggle.

 This really resonates for me. In the past I believed I had a defective body and eating the "right way" would change it into the right (and more acceptable) one. I would grab somebody's diet plan, weigh myself constantly, and work it. I was a Kitten With a Whip, one I used on myself. It was not about living differently, but discarding the unwelcome. It was not about the gentle touch, but punishment and shame.
Some people have asked how much I've lost. I don't know; I'm not weighing myself for three months. I really want (and need) to make these changes not about weight, or fat, or size.
I'm not on a diet; I'm putting down the whip, learning myself, and how to stay.

My Plan

So what, exactly, do I want this food transformation process to be?
My plan:

1. Eat as close to 100% raw food as I am able (emotionally, socially, physically). 
2. Keep it simple, and focused on 24 hours.
3. Remain flexible and avoid absolutism and compulsiveness.
4. Avoid a focus on my weight.
5. Avoid judgement of myself and my process.
6. Avoid judgement of (a) other fat people (b) People Who Don't See the Wisdom of My Way and (c) People Who Judge Me and My Food Path and Just Have To Tell Me All About It (this group will be the most challenging).
7. Not make raw food into something its not--no faux breads or cheeses, for example.
8. Be free.

Not My First Time at This Rodeo

Like many of the fat, this is one of scores of times I've attempted to change how I eat. Usually it's been because I wanted to lose weight, sometimes to lose myself in a new project. Sometimes to fix myself.
This time, I want to avoid (1) a race to the scale and (2) compulsiveness or absolutism in any form. I don't want to become a food/nutrition hard head or blowhard. I want to remain flexible. I want to learn how to live this, and not focus on arriving--at a certain size, weight, food path, or philosophy.
I also want to avoid, as much as I can, judging others--especially other fat women--against my image of who I want to be, who I am. I do both quite a bit.
And I'm including blogging in this process because I want to be more public (while knowing, of course, that there will be the wonderful anonymity of being one of a bizillion blogs out there) about this process. And to let other fat people, especially other fat women like me, know that, though this is hard, it can be done, that we're not alone, that we can bear witness to one another's transformation.