Body Dysmorphia

When I was in college, I walked around the city for 1-2 hours a day for at least three times a week. Often, I'd carry a 40 lb. "art portfolio kit" around my shoulder where I kept all of my supplies. During breaks, I'd walk across the street to the local Whole Foods and buy fruit or soup for lunch. I avoided complex carbohydrates like bread; my weakness. I avoided dairy due to my intolerance and how my body has a harder time digesting it; my other weakness. I made a conscious effort to make fruits and vegetables a staple in my diet.

I ran 3x a week for long distances of 4-5 miles. 2x a week, I'd concentrate on sprint drills with orange cones as distance markers for a duration of 20-30 minutes. I did lots of yoga, and lots of Tae-bo DVDs, often double stacking them to get more workout. I lifted dumb bells 2x a week for 20 minutes. All in all, I consistently worked out for about 2 hours a day, six days a week or more, breaking them up in the morning and night. I was down to 100 lbs. and still thought I was fat. I hated the way my lower belly still pooched or the way I could start to see the lines of my ribs; counting one, two, three... The ribs freaked me out but I still thought I looked fat. Always unsatisfied with the way my midsection looked.

This lasted all but one month, before I gained my weight back. Clearly, my body isn't meant to "maintain" at 100 lbs. Even so, I kicked myself for being so close to perfection. I had a low enough body fat percentage that you could start to see a slight four-pack which I had wanted to work my way towards a six-pack. My boyfriend at the time encouraged me to lose five more pounds. Just 95 lbs. and you'll be perfect...

But I wasn't perfect. I was anything but. Amidst this strict exercise regimen, I was constantly eating my thoughts away towards my next meal. The foods I would avoid. The "bad" foods I couldn't have. How many calories of fat are in this frozen meal. How many calories I must be burning. How my body changed. How I looked. Always hyper-aware of how I looked. I couldn't ever notice when my body had changed. I became obsessed with the tape measure and the scale. 100 lbs. 25" So fat! Can't I go down to 24"? When will it say 95 lbs.? Is 93 lbs. ok? My mind was a mess of self-consciousness. No matter how much I weighed or how I looked, it was never enough. I hated that. So I rebelled. My mind rebelled and I stopped the dieting, and the exercise and gained back my weight. I was made to feel a failure both by myself, and my boyfriend. "You were doing so good." "What happened."

My sanity happened. I can't live a life imprisoned by food and weight. There is more to life than this.

I didn't feel sexy. No matter how much he chimed that I was looking sexy, I felt disgusting. I felt bony and fat all at the same time. I knew I was doing this all for him (despite how much I insisted it was for health!), and the pressure to look a certain way for him made my feminist-minded stomach churn. You see, back when I last visited the Philippines, I was at a "healthy" 120 lbs. I came back apparently looking like I had gained even more weight, he insisted, and then lectured me on diet and exercise. I got the hint. I tried so hard to maintain 100 lbs. for him, easily losing 20 lbs. after my trip. I wanted approval and affection but Inside, I felt crazy. I had dizzy spells regularly when I wouldn't eat for 5-8 hours at a time. This is perhaps the closest I have come to an eating disorder. My mind was ruled by food; dreaming of the chocolate and ice cream I could never eat out of guilt.

My weight fluctuated back and forth from 100-120 lbs. during the time I was with him, and continues to fluctuate today. When I was 115, I still felt gross and unattractive because I could hear his silent thoughts thinking me so. Or maybe that's projection, I don't know. I hated how obsessed my mind got when I was so thin, yet I hated how I looked when I was 115.

The truth is, feeling comfortable in my own skin is a lie. Add a boyfriend in the mix, and my insecurities amplify, because of the thought that I am being judged, or eventually going to be seen naked. It takes a lot for me to get there with someone. I never felt beautiful.

But, here's a secret. I wish I were 100 lbs. again. 100 lbs seems to be my magic number of "success" in my head. Maybe that's crazy but it's how I think; ingrained since high school. I miss my four-pack and how skinny I was, but I don't miss the obsession. I have never had a healthy relationship with food. And I don't know how to have a healthy lifestyle without becoming obsessed. Physically, I feel like I'm at the best shape of my life; able to do three pull-ups and come down to within 4" of doing the splits. But I want to look in shape. When I try to button pants that once fit perfectly, I am disgusted. I refuse to buy a new wardrobe one size up. Yet I am disappointed with the weight I've gained this year that I can't seem to lose thus far.

It's sick to want to go back there again. I am disgusted that 100 lbs. seems even remotely ideal in my mind.

Whenever I am disgusted with myself I tend to take pictures. Through a camera, my body dysmorphia calms down and I realize I don't look so bad. And so, I become "comfortable in my own skin" through pictures (as long as I suck in...), but not through life. Through a mirror, I pick apart every imperfection, glad that I am the only one who sees myself naked.

How do I exercise without becoming obsessed with my looks? How can I lose weight without measuring my waist for self-worth? I carry my belly weight for protection. I carry my belly weight to go against the idea of 100 lbs. perfection because it feels disgusting to me, yet I look in the mirror and still feel disgusted. I can't ever win. I hate that I am not above all this. I know I am perfectly healthy as I am now. The physical fit look, as far as I'm concerned, is plainly aesthetic because I know I am physically fit. Feeling comfortable in my own skin shouldn't have a weight attached to it. Yet if only I could lose 10 lbs...