I can’t believe how much body and diet talk I hear every single day — at my job. Politics are inappropriate because they are so divisive, but trashing our bodies? Yes please, lots of that. We can all agree on hating our bodies.
The billion-dollar diet industry has made bodies, especially female bodies, a topic of discussion, dissection, dissatisfaction. But not mine. Not today, satan.
What the heck am I supposed to say in those awful, awkward diet culture moments at work? I wish I knew. I’m still working on that. But this is what I want to say:
I have drawn lines around myself. I decide where they go. I get to decide who is allowed to cross them, and under what circumstances. My body isn’t up for debate or discussion. My terms, my terminology.
I don’t want to talk about how much I ate, or didn’t eat.
I don’t want to answer questions about how I exercise, or don’t.
I don’t want to talk about how my body looks or looked or could look.
It’s no one’s business but mine.
I can’t believe I have to say this out loud.
I will not match other people’s negativity as a show of solidarity. I will not spend another day on that sinking ship, but please — join me here on solid ground.
I spent too many years thinking I was too big. Now I just want to think.
I spent too many years trying to be smaller. Now I just want to be.