Tag: fat girl

Halloween Costume Mania!

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I dress up for Halloween every year. Usually it’s just to hand out candy, but even if I did nothing, I’d probably still dress up. It’s my thing. As a Halloween purist, I find it to be a fun challenge to attempt to make a costume without spending more than twenty dollars. That means I try to use as much as I already have. I’ve been quite successful at it.

Here are the costumes I put together for the last five years (also photographic evidence of my weight fluctuation over the last five years if you’re into judging me for that sort of thing). Three of them cost me nothing. The other two cost me less than twenty bucks. I’m pretty proud of all of them.

Halloween 2006: Mercenary
Halloween 2007: A Teenager
Halloween 2008: Belly Dancer
Halloween 2009: Madeline Westen from Burn Notice
Halloween 2010: The Perfect Housewife
Halloween 2011: Patient Zero

Happy Halloween!

Fat Telling

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

So a viewer emailed a news anchor in LaCrosse, WI to let her know that she was fat and as a someone on TV it was her responsibility to not be fat in order to set an example to the young people.

That’s my snarky summary. You can read the whole thing (and see video) here.

The whole incident brought up the topic of bullying, but that’s not why I’m bringing it up. That topic is best left discussed by people who are not me.

I’m bringing it up because this is actually a common occurrence for fat people. You don’t even have to be on TV to have it happen. For whatever reason, people feel it is not only acceptable but also their DUTY to tell fat people that they are fat.

I’m not talking about the assholes that scream “FAT ASS!” across crowded malls and streets. I’m talking about the people like this gentleman who sent in the email. There’s nothing overtly offensive in his email. He just felt that perhaps this news anchor COMPLETELY MISSED THAT SHE’S OVERWEIGHT AND SOMEONE SHOULD POINT IT OUT TO HER. She addresses that in fact.

You might think it’s stupid (and you’d be right), but there are people out there that think I don’t know I’m fat unless they point it out to me. Seriously. They think I might have been trucking right along in my life thinking I was normal or average or worth a shit and it totally escaped my attention that I was FAT. And if that person didn’t tell me, I’d just continue living my life in some sort of oblivion.

Well, allow me to put a lot of minds at ease. Fat people know they’re fat. And there’s also a good chance that fat people understand the health implications of being fat, the HUGE societal implications of being fat, and every diet in existence. You don’t have to tell us. We know.

But see, that’s not REALLY what it’s about. It’s not that fat people live in some sort of ignorance that they don’t realize they’re fat. It’s that people think that if they don’t remind fat people that it’s WRONG to be fat, we might forget and continue being fat.

That’s what this guy was doing when he emailed the news anchor. He was reminding her that it’s wrong to be fat and because she’s on TV it’s EXTRA wrong because she’s now displaying her fatness to more people. And somehow, because she hasn’t changed her fatness, it’s poisoning the minds of the young girls by letting them know it’s OKAY to be fat and, as society is quick to point out, BEING FAT IS WRONG.

Thin people might have to deal with strangers telling them to “eat a sandwich”, but it’s not implied that their existence is in violation of the Universe. Mine is.

I don’t need you to tell me I’m fat. I know. And I’m not going to change just so you’ll feel more comfortable. Changing my appearance might make me visually less offensive to the rest of society, but I’m afraid my personality will remain just as revolting and vile to you. I could lose 150 pounds, but I’d still be a “fat bitch”. Like the lovely news anchor said, there’s more to me than a number on the scale.

I know I’m fat. Do you know you’re an asshole? Tell me I’m fat and I’ll return the favor.

Fat Health

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

What scientists call "Overweight" ch...

In the course of the past week I saw two good articles about fat people and health.

The first pertains to a doctor denying to take a woman on as a patient because she’s fat.

The second is about the “thin paradox”: how thin people get diseases that only fat people are supposed to get.

Now, in regards to the first article, I’ve never been told by a doctor that they can’t treat me because I’m fat. But I know that it happens and I’m not surprised by it. The disdain for fat people is palpable beyond the mall and fast food joints. I’m taking up too much space with my rolls and it disgusts people no matter where I go. I’m not surprised that it disgusts doctors, too. After all, they are people. Worse, they’re people with years of medical training that has educated them to believe that fat, any and all fat, is bad.

Which leads me to the second article. If you’re fat and you do find a doctor willing to see you, then the automatic cure for whatever it is that ails you is to lose weight. High cholesterol? Lose weight. High blood pressure? Lose weight. Painful menstrual cramps? Lose weight. Sinus trouble? Lose weight.

If you’re thin and you have these problems…I guess you get actual treatment? Because if you’re thin then you must be really sick. If you’re fat…well…you’re just fat and that’s the cause of all your trouble.

So, let’s review…

If you’re fat, you don’t necessarily deserve a doctor’s care because if you’re fat then you clearly don’t care about your health and would just be wasting the doctor’s time. But if you want a doctor to see you then you should lose weight first, then you’ll be worth the appointment. If you can find a doctor with reinforced tables and whale scales and Paul Bunyon blood pressure cuffs and whatever else it is that doctors think they need to treat fat people, then whatever your complaint is can be cured if you lose weight.

Gee, fat people. I guess we can save a whole lot of money and cut out the middle man if we just lose weight.

Reasonable, right? Sure.

I know of someone who is a size zero, doesn’t exercise, and makes mention of eating once or twice a day and that consumption might be a candy bar or a cupcake or a diet Coke and some pretzels. Meanwhile, I’m a size 20/22, exercise five days a week (most weeks), and make a conscious effort to make my meals somewhat healthy in both content and portion size and number. However, based on the two articles I linked to a doctor would be more likely to see her and more likely to treat her better because she’s thin.

Doctor’s perpetuating the myth that thin=healthy is a huge disservice to the masses (pun intended). Fat people are being led to believe that weight loss will cure everything and thin people are being led to believe that they can’t possibly be unhealthy. It’s criminal bullshit, really.

With all of that said, I’ve never had any of this happen to me. I’ve never had a doctor refuse me because I was fat. The only doctor I’ve had that discussed weight loss with me was the plastic surgeon that did my breast reduction surgery. He asked if I tried to lose weight to reduce my breast size. I wasn’t insulted by it. He wanted to make sure I’d explored other options before surgery. (FYI: I did try to lose weight to reduce my breast size. I lost twenty pounds. None of it came off of my chest. When I gained it back, it went to the boobs.)

Granted, I don’t have a lot of doctor experiences in my adult life. Not because my fat keeps me from going, though. For me it’s usually lack of insurance/short on money/I don’t go unless something is hanging off by a thread because I’m pretty sure it’ll be fine in a day or two even if it is the plague that keeps me from going to the doctor.

But that’s another story.

The point is I’ve never personally been doomed to ill-health by a doctor that refused to treat me because I’m fat or by a doctor that thinks weight-loss will cure whatever ails me, and I don’t think anyone else should be either.

Fat doesn’t make people unhealthy. Doctors that don’t take fat people seriously do.

Fat Acceptance

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

A link to this tumblr post came across my Twitter timeline last night. I’m still not sure what tumblr is or how it works, but thankfully I have friends that have mastered it so they can pass along things like this. And thankfully I’m literate so I can read what they pass along.

If you’re too lazy to click the link and read, I’ll sum it up for you. Researchers have discovered evidence that fat acceptance blogs and sites actually can actually have a positive affect on some people’s health.

Go ahead and read the link. I’ll wait.

I didn’t lie, now did I?

The misconception of fat acceptance is true. Accepting fat is a bad thing because nobody wants to be fat and you’re not supposed to be fat. Being fat is bad. No one wants to be bad. By accepting fat, you’re accepting bad.

Except that’s not what’s happening.

Fat acceptance means that you accept that your fat and that the number on the scale is not an indicator of your worth as a human being.

Being fat doesn’t mean that you’re not caring, intelligent, funny, generous, sympathetic, passionate, beautiful, and/or supportive. Being fat doesn’t mean that you can’t be active, sexy, fashionable, confident, desirable, healthy, successful, and/or loved. Being fat doesn’t mean you can’t have a life. And it definitely doesn’t mean that your life is worth less than someone who weighs less than you.

Fat acceptance promotes a healthy self-esteem. And that in turn promotes a healthier view on life, which leads to healthier choices.

Shocking! Who knew that making someone feel good about themselves instead of running them down and making them feel like a worthless piece of shit could have a positive effect?

I’m sure to the guys that like to moo at women in the mall and the girls that give fat girls a dirty look while they eat their Cold Stone, this is of no consequence and won’t change their minds in the least. We’re still all disgusting fat pigs that don’t deserve anything good in life and certainly shouldn’t waddle our fat selves out in public where we inflict our gross body mass on society.

But to the people who need the support, it’s a life-saver. It means not being shamed into not doing things that you want to do just because you’re fat. It means not being afraid to live just because you’re fat.

It means knowing that you have value no matter what the number on the scale says.

You know the old saying, “worth their weight in gold”?

It applies to fat people, too.

Get My Good Side

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

English: A photo of a Voigtlander Vito II came...

I’m writing this post because I’m in the mood for a new Twitter avatar. I like to change it every couple of months. It alleviates boredom.

You would think this would be an easy task, however, I am one vain little fat girl. I want to look as pretty as I can in my pictures which isn’t always easy.

First of all, I’m limited with what DNA gave me. Filters and cropping only do so much. I’ve got what I got. And while I am fat and acknowledge that I’m fat, I do my best to make that fat look good.

Second of all, with this DNA configuration, I’m not exactly photogenic. You know those people that you can photograph while they’re wearing sweats, no make-up, haven’t brushed their hair in six days, and they’re hungover, but they still look really good? I am not one of those people. I’m also not one of those people that can’t take a good picture to save their life. You know those people. The ones that everyone says they look much better in person no matter when, how, and where the picture was taken or how much work the person put into their appearance prior to the picture being taken.

I’m somewhere in the middle. Some days I’m quite photogenic and with little effort I can take a pretty picture. Other days, it doesn’t matter how many pictures I take. From every angle, I’ve got only badness going on.

Then there’s the kind of picture I want to take. Am I in the mood for playful or serious or sexy? Do I want a solo shot, or do I want to pull a group shot from Facebook and use it? Much of the time, the picture I want to use is the picture I don’t have. Then when I try to take the picture I’d like to use, it doesn’t work out.

Sometimes I settle. Sometimes I wait until the timing is better. Sometimes I’m impatient which leads to frustration. All over a tiny little picture that most people don’t really pay attention to.

But I can justify a little bit. My Twitter is my main forum. Yes, I have a blog and a Facebook page, but Twitter is where I’m most active. I have over 700 followers now (what?). If I was going to brand myself, KikiWrites would be it. As such, the face on that profile is kind of important to me. It’s representing me. So I kind of have a right to be picky about the picture I put out there.

On the other hand, if I could let go of a little of my vanity, this would be a whole lot easier and I wouldn’t get so unnecessarily frustrated.

It’s not easy trying to be presentable.

The Many Hair Colors of Kiki

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

You saw my many faces, now you get to see my many colors.

In my early 20’s, I decided to break out of the norm and go wild. I needed to express myself and I did it through altering my appearance. I wore a lot of heavy make-up, mostly purple as it’s one of my favorite colors. Purple eyeshadow and purple lipstick were the norm (away from work; I didn’t wear make-up there). Black eye liner and black mascara. Sometimes I’d do glitter designs on my face. Before it was all done, I’d had my eyebrows pierced five times, including three times on the left side (the other two done on my right were done at two separate times because the first one ripped out) and had my nipple pierced (I’ve got a fun story about that, too, but some other time).

And then there was my hair. It was long then and I did a lot of things to it. I’d braid it in pig tails, braid it in tiny little braids and then put ribbons on the end, fashion spiky buns, give myself what one lady called “turkey feathers”, but mostly I wore it in a pony tail.

I was about 20 when I started coloring it. I eased into it, having a professional do it first, then I became the professional. I got really good at coloring my hair myself, bleaching it and then dying it with Manic Panic. I used gloves and a brush and ruined a couple of shirts and a bathroom rug. Sometimes my tub would be blue or purple or red for days. I dyed my friends’ hair. I became the go-t0 hair dye expert.

I worked at Wal-Mart at the time. A lot of customers would come in to see what color my hair was that day (I changed it every six weeks to two months). Only a few times did I get a negative comment. When our HR lady complained, my district manager gave me special permission to keep my hair any color I wanted. I don’t know if it was because I was good at my job or what, but I appreciated it.

Once I quite my job at Wal-Mart, the hair had to go back to normal so I could get a new job. I dyed it burgandy for a few months while I found and got a new job. Then I colored it with the goal of getting it back to my natural hair color. I’d wrecked my hair bad with all of the dying and bleaching and coloring and I wanted a break. That was over ten years ago. I haven’t colored my hair since.

So here are some (not all!) of my hair colors over that time period.

To get a feel for where I was and where I ended, this was my hair before I colored it. My natural color now is actually much darker and I love it.

This was my first color combo: black, purple, and blonde. The blonde and purple hues are very subtle as I had this professionally done and she didn’t get too wild.

I think this was my first go on my own. I ended up with blue, green, and black. Note the purple make-up and the glitter tears. I wasn’t kidding when I said I did that.

Red and black. I loved this combo. I also loved to wear my hair like this. And yes, I did wear this outfit out of my house to places like the mall and the movies. I still have the dress and the jacket.

I bleached my hair A LOT in between dying so the color would take better. I was never blonde for long, though, because I HATED being blonde. The longest I was ever blonde was a week and that’s because I had to have my hair a natural color because I was working at another store. Also, that’s my first rat I’m smooching, Zero. I’ve had a total of five of them.

This is what happens when you want to dye your hair, but don’t have enough dye to do one color. I used the leftovers. Not one of my favorite looks. It didn’t last long. You can also get a sense of how large my chest was. Pictures never really did it justice, though.

I loved the effect of this color combo with the blond bangs. It was really cool. But you can see the damage starting to take its toll on my hair.

Blue and purple. Another combo effect that I really liked with the blue bangs in contrast with the rest of my hair being purple.

My last wild color combo ever: pink, orange, and blonde. One of my co-workers called it Tequila Sunrise.

Hair colors not pictured: Purple and black; orange and yellow; pink and purple; blue and blonde.

I’m not going to lie when I saw I miss some of these hair colors and there are days when I wish I could dye my hair purple or red and black again. But looking back on that time I realize part of the reason why I did it. I was trying to find a way to be pretty. I knew then, with my wide ass and my huge, non-perky boobs and my extra weight that I had no chance to be conventionally pretty. But I still wanted to be pretty. So I made a different way to be pretty.

People have said that I did it for attention and you know, maybe I did a little. But my main goal was I wanted to be pretty, to feel pretty. I couldn’t compete with the little blonde things that men always drool over, but when my hair was green and my eyebrow was pierced, they couldn’t compete with me. I owned that look like they never could.

I was pretty on my own terms.

And I still am.

Fat Business

~ Kiki Writes ~ 4 Comments

Someone I follow on Twitter retweeted the following tweet:

Am I the only one that gets angry and wants to yell when I see fat people eating junk food?

Well, I can definitely say that no, you’re not and yes, people actually do.

I also invite you to come up and yell at me while I’m noshing on a corn dog and see if it’s not one of the more ill-advised decisions you make in your life.

Because the first words out of my mouth are going to be, “WHAT FUCKING BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS, SKIPPY?”

It seems that in this society being fat is everyone’s business should you venture out in public. Like a pregnant lady constantly getting her belly felt up by strangers, it seems to be no breech of etiquette to confront, insult, and/or shame a fat person for being fat.

Now, I can’t go up to a thin person and tell them that they should be eating chocolate or tell them they need a burger. I can’t tell a thin woman that she has the body of a pre-pubescent girl with implants. I can’t tell a thin man how unattractive he is because he’s thin. That’s rude.

But for someone to come up to me and tell me to put down the Ho Ho, that’s fine. It’s perfectly fine for a thin woman to call me a fat bitch. It’s completely acceptable for a thin man to moo at me. I deserve it because I don’t fit society’s ideal standards.

Well, ya know what? Fuck off. It’s none of your business.

No, really, it’s not.

You cannot possibly think that I don’t know that I’m fat. Believe me. I know.

You cannot possibly think that I don’t know the implications of being fat. Believe me. I do. I’m shunned for my size and treated badly because of it. I’m disrespected for it. It’s more socially acceptable to be a heroin addict than a fat person because, hey, at least the junkie is skinny.

And I know the health implications, too. Actually, I probably know MORE about that health implications than a thin person because they’ve been shouted right at me. I’ve also learned to read between the lines and take my health into my own hands because people are so quick to say that I’m unhealthy because of a number on a scale.

Did you know it’s possible to weight over 200 pounds and have good cholesterol, blood pressure, and sugars? It’s true. It’s been done. Hell, I’ve done it. And so have other fat people. Those are actually better measures of health than weight. Why? Well, because thin people can have shitty cholesterol, high blood pressure, and be diabetic. Wild, huh?

Yeah, you don’t know my medical charts. You also don’t know my life. You have no idea why I’m fat, how fat I’ve been, or how fat I’m gonna be.

You don’t know my diet and can’t judge it by one cheeseburger. Maybe that’s my weekly treat and for the rest of the week I live off of salads and water. Maybe I was in a hurry, like you, thin person, and had to grab something quick on the go when I’d rather have eaten a balanced meal. Maybe all I eat is McDonald’s. How do you know? That’s right. You don’t.

Did you know you can be fat without eating all of the time and eating a lot? It’s true. There’s no telling how much I eat. I might graze all day. Or I might go back for seconds. Or thirds. I might only eat one big meal a day. I might eat three balanced ones. Again, how can you possibly know?

Did you know you can be fat but still work out? It’s true. You have no idea how much I work out. I may sit around the house all day. Or I might run 5K’s. I might walk every day after dinner. I might do yoga every morning. Maybe the only exercise I get is lifting that cookie to my mouth. But you don’t know, do you?

Heaven forbid I insinuate that all thin people are workout anorexics that puke after every meal. That’s rude! It’s generalization! It’s not fair! But, it’s perfectly fine to think all fat people are unhealthy, lazy, gorging slobs. That’s not a generalization! It’s a truth!

Well, fuck your truth. Stick your truth straight up your ass. Replace it with this truth:

I don’t hate you for being thin. I hate you for disrespecting me for being fat.

And if you have such an issue with me smashing a DQ Blizzard, then please, come up and say something. We’ll discuss it.

I’ll set you straight.

The Many Faces of Kiki

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Kiki (1931 film)

I have this weird single-minded aspect to my personality.

I like to think that what other people think about me doesn’t matter, but in a way it does. Not so much the harsh criticism and insults often hurled my way, sometimes verbally, sometimes only mentally. I mean if you bother to think that I’m a fat, ugly, stupid bitch of a human being, I’m pretty sure I’m not associating with you much for that to be a really big issue.

I guess I’m more concerned with what people think about me in terms of how people think of me in relation to the way I present myself.

If you ask me what I am, I’ll tell you that I’m a writer first and foremost. That’s me. That’s my career (as unsuccessful as it currently is). It’s a big part of my identity. But it’s not my ENTIRE identity. I know that. I’m sure other people know that. And I don’t think that way about other people. But for some ridiculous reason I’ve got it in my head that if I present any other aspect of my identity, then people won’t take me seriously as a writer.

Crazy, right?

It’s like this. I know that most people don’t consider writing a real job. I don’t get a regular paycheck. I don’t go to an office. Hell, I don’t even have to put on real pants. Because I can’t support myself, it’s not real work. It’s hard enough already to be taken seriously as a writer because I’ve yet to publish a book and/or I’m not a best-selling author (yet).

Now, you take that insecurity and couple it with my other interests and I’ve created a great dilemma for myself. For example, I make and sell jewelry. I like jewelry. I like to make jewelry. It’s another creative outlet for me. Selling it gives me a little more money towards making the ends meet every month. But I’m afraid that by promoting the jewelry I make and sell people will think I’m not serious about my writing.

And thus a big part of my identity is negated.

I hate that.

Now, I realize that most of this is all in my head. Not everyone makes their work such a big part of themselves. Most people don’t think of themselves as one thing, so they don’t think of other people as one thing. They probably don’t even bother to break it all down. They don’t think of me as a writer and a jewelry maker and a fat girl belly dancing and a rerun junkie and a baseball floozy and a t-shirt enthusiast and a lover of horrible things. They look at the sum total instead of the parts and it either makes up someone they like or someone they don’t.

It’s my paranoia at play. I know that and I do my best to shove that squirmy thing back into it’s aquarium and lock the top and just let it go and be all of those things. But it’s not always easy. I’m not always able to do it.

Ah, the joys and pains of being a constant work in progress.

Picture of a Fat Girl

~ Kiki Writes ~ 8 Comments

Hey, look! That’s me! I am that fat girl in the picture. When I usually post pictures on the Internet, it’s usually just a head shot because, come on, I have a gorgeous face. Upper body shots are usually designed to highlight the breasts because I paid for them and they look good in the right bra/shirt combo. I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m fat; I tell people that all the time. I just try to put up the most flattering picture I can because, hey, I’m just as narcissistic as the next person.

I know I’m fat. However, when I look in the mirror I don’t see the same fat girl everyone else sees. It’s like the opposite of those skinny girls that look in the mirror and see a bloated cow. I don’t necessarily see a super skinny chick, but I don’t see a girl as fat as I am. I see someone more voluptuous, with curves in all the right places and some of the wrong ones.

But I’m not out of touch with reality. I know that what I see and what other people see aren’t the same thing. At Casino Night last week, waiting for the elevator, I had two stereotypically beautiful women in evening wear give me a disgusted once over before turning away. I know what they were thinking. How dare a fat girl wear a short, tight, black dress?

Even at the end of the night with no shoes, I looked good.

Well, I dared and I looked good.

And that’s the thing, isn’t? I know what I think about myself, but I don’t let it cloud the reality of what society thinks about me.

I make jokes about myself. I make harsh, truthful statements about my weight, too, and it tends to upset the people who know me. That’s because they don’t see me as “fat” because “fat” is bad and they don’t think I’m bad. I’m Christin! I’m Kiki! I’m Chesh! I’m Skitz! I’m good, not bad!

Well, I am fat. It’s an accurate description of my physical state. And I get treated differently (often poorly) because of that physical trait.

Scroll back up and look at that picture. You see those hips? There’s actually not a whole lot of padding to them. I have naturally wide hips. And those shoulders? Not a lot of fat on those, either. I’m built to last, baby. The point I’m making is that I could improve the perceptions that people have about me by losing weight, except I’d never be able to lose enough. I’m not built to be a size zero. I’m not sure I’m even built to be a size 8. I could starve, exercise, nip, tuck, and suck myself as thin as possible and it still wouldn’t be enough to make me acceptable by society’s standards.

I’d also look really gross. I’d have to lose all of my body fat and most of my muscle mass to even get close and even then, my bone structure would render it all for naught.

For the most part, despite society’s best efforts to change my mind in various abusive ways, I’m good with the way I look. I can work with what I’ve got and come up with something pretty damn good looking. Do I want to lose weight? Yeah. I’ve got about 35 pounds I need to get rid of to get back down to where I was. But this weight loss is motivated by feeling better. The reduction of my ass size is just a bonus.

I’m a fat girl. I will never not be fat by society’s standards. Now you all can see exactly how I am fat. So when you read something I write and enjoy it, or retweet me on Twitter, or like a Facebook post, or buy something I’ve written or made, you’re enjoying and supporting a fat girl.

I hope you can handle that.

Food Math

~ Kiki Writes ~ 1 Comment

Being fat most of my life, I’ve been made aware of most diets. I know a few people that have lost their weight by counting calories or through Weight Watchers by counting points and it always made me wonder why anyone would want to turn a meal into math?

Now I find myself doing that exact same thing.

I’m working on trying to lose the forty pounds I gained after I lost it the first time. This, of course, involves exercising, but it also involves me trying to change the way that I eat. Actually, I don’t eat too poorly compared to some people, but I could always make improvements.

In my quest for better health knowledge, I stumbled on a site that calculates how man calories you should consume during a day given your activity level to lose weight. I thought it might be a good guideline for me, not that I wanted to obsessively start counting calories or anything, but if I had a general idea of how much I was consuming, it might help me lose weight.

At first, it was an interesting educational experience, especially when it came to serving sizes (really, how many people use 1/4 cup of syrup on their pancakes?) and just how much you could eat on a certain number of calories a day.

Now understand, I didn’t exactly limit myself. I just adjusted my choices to a point so the math would work out. It all worked out for the most part.

And then the guilt started creeping in.

Guilt attached to going over my “limit”. Guilt attached to still being hungry after I finished my serving. Guilt attached to that second cup of coffee.

I have a good relationship with my food. I’m not much of an emotional eater (though I will eat because I’m bored, but because I’m aware of it, it doesn’t happen very often). The self-esteem issues I have with my weight (which are intricate, complex, and contradictory) are separate from anything that has to do with food. Food tastes good. Food gives me energy. Food nurishes my body. And that’s it. I am on good terms with my food.

Which is why when the guilt started creeping in, I put a quick stop to food math. I’m not going to have a bunch of numbers ruin my relationship with food for the sake of fitting into a smaller pair of pants (or turn me against algebra). Food is not math. Food is food and needs to be treated as such.

I’m still looking at the calories and serving sizes (Really? A 1/4 cup of syrup?) of what I eat, but in a very different way. It’s not just how many calories I’m consuming, but what kind of calories I’m consuming. You know what? Sometimes I want 250 calories from a sandwich. And sometimes I want those same calories from two cookies. Neither choice is wrong and I shouldn’t make myself feel like I failed a pop quiz because of it. Being conscious of the choice and the reasons why I’m making it is more important.

There is nothing wrong with wanting a cookie now and then. There’s nothing wrong with having one.

The numbers can still add up.