I don’t want to do this.
I realise nothing is forcing me to either and that, if anything, makes this harder. I’ve had this slip of paper in my possession since Monday and I’m horrified at the information it shows.
Somehow, even though I know all the information it contains, it’s worse to see it printed from a machine that can’t lie and that has no interest at all in being mean/cruel/kind/gentle. It just is. And these are the facts:
Date: 14 September 2015
Weight: 19st 13lbs (126.9kg)
Height: 5’7.7 (1.72m)
Body fat: 44.3%
Body fat mass: 56.1 kg
Right. Okay. Not so bad.
The interesting part, is how that makes me feel. Or rather, how sharing that information so publicly makes me feel.
Weight, overeating and obesity are such social stigmas that I know there are folk close to me who will be horrified that I’ve put this data on the internet for all to see. It’s ‘bad’ to be fat, it’s ‘unattractive’ and ‘undesirable’ to be anything more than a size ten (or even a size 2 in the US?), especially if you’re a woman. I’d be lying if I said wanting to be slimmer wasn’t a contributing factor to this mad quest of mine, but I’m starting to realise and believe (gradually) that no one else actually cares about my size or weight. That’s my insecurity projecting onto other people. Other people who, truth be told, are probably stressing about their hair/skin/scars/freckles/stretch marks/skinny thighs/small boobs/large hands/bubble butt/whatever.
Everyone stresses and panics over what they believe other people see of them. Most of the time they don’t need to.
So yes . . . I’m scared and no doubt, if this blog gets any sort of public traction, there will be people out there ready to troll on my efforts. But I don’t know them and I don’t care. This blog is for me, because I want a record to show that I put my mind to something (other than writing) and eventually achieved it.
That, more than squeezing into a pair of size 12 skinny jeans, will be a tremendous (and necessary) boost to my confidence and self-esteem.