Fat & Happy (mostly)

I talk a lot about body diversity, health at every size, body love, body acceptance, and any numerous things about loving your body. I pontificate about it pretty much non-stop. I do it even when it's hard to believe my own words. I want people to be happy and healthy and weight has nothing to do with that. It's taken me a long time to realize that, embrace that, and continually I struggle to believe that. It's hard. It's a struggle. Some days I win, some days I don't. I win more than I struggle, but I think it's important to talk about struggling.

I went to a workshop during our campus' Love Every Body Week -- which is our celebration of Eating Disorders Awareness Week -- where we focus not only on eating disorders, but the wider spectrum of wellness, health, body image and body love. The workshop was hosted by the author of Embody: Learning to Love Your Unique Body (and quiet that critical voice!), Connie Sobczak. The workshop was several hours and explored many topics but one of the activities we did was draw a flower or tree that was emblematic of our body stories. The roots were supposed to be the messages we got in our youth, primarily from our family, about our bodies. The trunk or stem was supposed to symbolize how we feel about our bodies now, and the flower or leaves were supposed to express something about how we hope to use our bodies to  shape others in the future (I can't remember how exactly she phrased it). This was my drawing:

I love sharpies. So although we had a range of art materials to pick from, I picked the shaprie. I don't know what it is about sharpies that I love...maybe because I love the sharp, harshness of black, maybe I love its permanency (I'm not so good with change), or maybe because sharpies always seem so damn serious, like "oh shit, she just brought out the sharpie, shits about to get real!" (and that's kind of how I think about myself a lot). But anyway, I chose the sharpie.

I chose a palm tree. I've always loved palm trees, but I've loved them even more since my therapist used an analogy using a palm tree. My therapist is the friggin best with analogies and metaphors. It's one of the things I love most about her. We were talking about strength and flexibility and she compared an oak tree and a palm tree. Oak trees are strong, hard woods. But in a tornado or major storm an oak tree will snap in half. A palm tree is also strong, but it's extremely flexible. In a storm a palm is much more likely to bend and then bounce back after the storm is over. Most of my life I've lived as an oak tree. Trying to be strong and impenetrable, but ultimately that strength is my weakness. When the storms of my life or OCD come blowing, I snap and break. Instead I should try to be like a palm tree and learn how to be strong enough that I can stand tall but flexible enough that life can push me around without breaking me. And if that isn't fucking beautiful I don't know what is. So when it came to drawing a plant, I drew a palm tree.

At my base I had two simple statements: You are more than your body & all bodies are beautiful. These are true statements. One of the best gifts my parents gave me was the gift of growing up in a home where bodies were not only NOT shamed, but were really not mentioned at all other than our bodies do lots of magnificent things for us. My mom is an artist and so we saw lots of diverse bodies through art. My mom also grew up in a home with intense body shaming and regulation and she didn't want to pass that on to her children. My feminist father was raising 3 daughters so he made sure to a) follow my mom's lead and b) embrace all facets of human diversity. I also grew up in a hippie beach town where we had no qualms about stripping down at the beach on a whim or running naked through the yard. It wasn't really until we moved to Indiana and I entered the tween years that I even really realized that bodies were something that people valued, berated, etc.

I made it through the teenage years slightly better than most, but not without the constant pressure from the outside to hate my body. I've always been on the larger side of my peers, but of course when I look at pictures of my teenage years the difference is negligible.

In my early 20s my sister and I joined a gym together to "get healthy" and "lose weight" for her upcoming wedding. We decided to try running on the treadmill together and gradually progressed to wanting to run a couple 5Ks. At the same time I started using a Fitness/Calorie counting app on my Palm (oh how I loved my Palm). It started out ok, but over time I became obsessed (this should not be shocking to you -- though it was to me in hindsight). I was running 3 miles a day 6 days a week and maintaining a 1200-1500 calorie diet. I felt like YES! I'm doing this! I'm doing what society tells me to do! I lost 30 lbs!

But I hated getting up and going to do something I loathed. I kept waiting for that runner's high to hit me. Or thinking that as I ran more it would get easier and I would learn to like it, maybe even love it. I didn't. Ever. I hated every single second of it. The only thing I loved about it was hanging out with my sister every day. That's the one and only thing. We bonded, we laughed, we had fun together in spite of the running. I wouldn't take any of that back for a second.

I hated counting every single calorie. I hated being a slave to my fitness app. I hated all of it.

I hated it even more when I plateaued at 30 lbs of weight loss. I hated that I pushed myself for so long and so hard that I fractured my foot from the stress of running and the lack of nutrition I was getting. I hated that even after 30 lbs of weight loss I was still fat.

And then it hit me...health is only one part physical. An equal and valid part of one's health is mental. I was not happy. In fact, I was miserable. I was miserable and still fat and now had a fractured foot. Was dismal mental health worth the so-called physical health I was achieving? Was my physical health really all that better or was I just 30 lbs lighter? What would happen if I participated in fitness I enjoyed and ate sensible meals without worrying about calories? This started a long period of self-reflection. That reflection continues to be on-going. And I continue to find new and well-documented information to support my feelings.

EVERY body is a GOOD body. Every day we wake up and our bodies do amazing things for us. We only have one body so we might as well make the most of it. It's much easier to learn to love your body (not that it's easy) than to hate and try and transform your body. Trust me, I've been there. 

So the middle of my drawing is who I am now. I am a (mostly) solid message of body love, and I try to spread that whenever and wherever I can. It's not easy. All those arrows up there? External messages trying to tell me I'm not ok as I am. I've had to build my bark up thick and strong to keep those messages out. It's not always easy. Sometimes arrows get wedged in-between my layers, but I just keep on growing layers around those arrows. I grow through activism, I grow through heavily editing and considering what media I expose myself to on a daily basis, I surround myself with other people who share my beliefs, I follow the tenets of the Health at Every Size movement, and I forgive myself when icky thoughts sneak up on me.

My branches are my desire to spread this love and awareness and sense of self to everyone around me. I may not change the world, but I will damn sure try.

365: Resolutions

Ange and I have resolved to eat less and move more this year. We aren't really new year's resolution kind of people; we're just doing it for ourselves. We've had some tumultuous couple of years (in a mostly good way) and we've just gotten out of good habits lately. Since we got back from Indiana we've been trying to work in daily walks when possible, even if they are only 10-15 minutes. We figure if we can squeeze in small walks a couple times a day, most days of the week it will do wonders for our health. Tuesdays are Ange's early days at work so she got home early enough that we could squeeze in a longer walk before it got dark. We ended up exploring our surrounding area for about 45 minutes! This is just one shot of many that I took on our walk.

Getting Old

I'm not one to spaz about getting old. I turned 30 this year. I have generally felt exactly the same as I have for the past several years. Everyone around me was asking me if I was sad and/or spazzing and/or other morose adjectives I can't think of at the moment (Alzheimer's? Not so much). Uh no. 30 isn't old. My grandma B is 83 and my grandma G is 79. I have more than double my life left to go until I get that old. Calm down people--you are way more concerned about this than I am. I had a blast on my birthday weekend and then I promptly forgot all about turning 30. Until recently.

I lost 15 pounds while I was in Nigeria (go me!) and I have managed to keep it off since I've been home. I've been trying to continue my health kick by joining the gym, going back to healthier eating and trying to stay in a healthy frame of mind. My sister and I have been going to the gym about 3-4 times a week (at 5:45 am!) and then I've been supplementing that by walking the dogs with Ange when we can. My goal is to do a minimum 30 minutes a day and more if I can. When Leslie and I hit the gym we usually do 35 minutes on the treadmill. I started out with just walking but have added in some short jogs (1-2 minutes at a time). Ange and I have been walking the dogs in two local parks, one is mostly flat ashpalt paths and the other is wooded trail walking. We much prefer the trails not only for the nature aspect but also because the unevenness of trails and the many up and down hills throughout the park help to give us a better workout. We've even done some light jogging on the trails though I have to be careful with that due to my spazzy falling down and tripping over air condition. 

This past week I've started to feel a weird feeling in my right knee. Not pain, but weirdness. Like maybe I could blow out some very important part of my knee. I'm trying to decide if it's just me being more than paranoid (very likely) or if I should do something pro-active to prevent any blowing out of important body parts. Like I said, it's not painful so I don't feel like I'm in any grave danger (and trust me, if it hurt I'd stop), but I just get worried that I'll be running and my leg will give out and I'll fall off the treadmill or tumble to my death in the park. I just feel like I need a little suit of armor to help my knee feel like it's got some back-up. 

So I thought maybe I need a knee brace. Then I did feel old. Only fat old ladies wear knee braces. Or super athletes who had a devasting injury. I am not the latter so I must be the former. Crap. 

Then I pull up Amazon.com and look for knee braces. God, I just aged some more. I did NOT need a bionic brace like this:

Like I said, I'm not injured! Just feeling a little paranoid about the ability of my knees to haul my big butt around for a few miles at a fast pace.

And then I stumbled on this:

Oh GOD. It's an Ace Brand knee brace. As in Ace Bandages. As in my mother is always wearing random ace bandages for her old lady pains. And I'm always making fun of her because A. seriously? Ace bandages? B. Like they really do anything. Some flimsy piece of cloth that you wrap a million times around something just to give it a little pressure? C. Only old people find Ace bandages to be of any use. And this is how I've determined that I am totally old now and apparently going down hill fast. I don't think my mom even started wearing Ace bandages until she was like 40-something. At this rate I'll be using a walker by 40. I'm doomed!

General Update

I've been posting mostly about cultural stuff and funny stories rather than actual my daily life so I thought I was overdue for one. 

I still have not received approval to start interviewing students which is of course frustrating. I've been here just over 10 weeks and I still have yet to meet with the committee who does the approvals and I'm not really sure if the entire committee has seen my documents. It's kind of hard to nail down exact answers. There are a variety of mitigating factors (various important events, internet at the University was down for several weeks, etc.) but I am getting really antsy. I don't want to run out of time and have to rush through my interviews. It's starting to turn into a scene from The Money Pit. I ask about approval from my contacts and the answer is always "Oh I think in the next week it should be approved." But I'm stuck in a sticky situation. Being able to do my research in this environment is a HUGE deal (both to me and in terms of precedence) so I want to honor my hosts (hosts both specifically & generically) but the bottom line is that I have a very limited amount of time left and every day that ticks by sends me into a panic. I've little by little been stepping up my check-ins and follow-throughs...trying to worry less about cultural politeness (though keeping it in mind) and more about actual facts of life. Hopefully I will have a happier update about this SOON!

I finally finished off my $11 box of Apple Jacks. They were excellent down to the almost stale last bite.

I have been doing lots of physical activity: walking, yoga, playing soccer with the teen boys on the compound, etc. I have lost some pretty substantial weight, though I'm not exactly sure how much. I don't want to feel disappointed so I've refused L's offers to use her scale. But my clothes are very loose and I can see a difference in the mirror. Let's hope I keep this momentum up and continue it when I get home. New me!

I am definitely integrated into the community as much as I will ever be short of living here for the rest of my life (which won't happen EVER). I get scolded for not following social norms, people ask where I am if I don't attend an event (or if they THINK I didn't attend something), and people generally don't give me too much special treatment. There is some special treatments that will always remain (L still gets special privileges and she's lived her 8 years) but people are less likely to wear their "best white people" behavior when I'm around. I have some real friendships that have formed. I know a ton of people. Students wave at me when I'm on campus. Different market merchants know me. In general, life is as "normal" as it's going to be. 

I've applied to 21 faculty jobs so far. I have 3 more in the queue that are waiting for various deadlines, etc. Keeping my hopes up that more will be posted as none of the current ones are in places where I have family. There are a number of them that are very exciting and sound great, but really, I would take a job I was less enthused about if it meant I got to be close to family. We shall see how it pans out. 

Other than that I'm just living life and taking it day by day. I'm kind of in a lull right now until I can get going with my interviews. I'm staying busy by helping out with various non-research related projects that people have asked for my help with. I'm just trying to enjoy the little things before I get totally absorbed in my work and head home! I'll keep you updated!

I Don Tiyah*

*That's Pidgin for "I'm tired." I know, it's actually the same or more words to say it in Pidgin, but no one ever said there was a lot of rationale for some Pidgin words & phrases.

This is pretty much my mantra here in Nigeria. I don't know what it is or why, but I almost always feed exhausted here. In the US I am usually always on the move, running around, etc. I usually get 7 hours of sleep and feel refreshed. Here, I can get 9 hours of sleep and wake up still feeling like I can barely get up and that I could sleep another 5 hours. I mean, I think I know some of the reasons, but not necessarily all of them.

1. I am living a very superficial life here. In an effort to fit in with the community I have a very sanitized version of my life story, and basically I wear a facade any time I am outside of my room, which obviously is often. This is exhausting. I have to constantly be "on" and I rarely have time to vent or even just be candidly honest for fear of various repercussions (personal and research/professional).

2. My biggest foe in Nigeria is boredom. I know this sounds weird. I'm in a country much different than my own, I'm here doing work, I'm often busy and on-the-go, how in the world can I be bored? Well because the security situation in Nigeria is less than optimal, I don't really have much freedom of movement. I am limited often by transport and security issues. So this means I spend the majority of time either in the compound, at the university, or at Church. It gets tedious and monotonous. Being bored is natural and after a while, it is also exhausting. And sleeping also gives you something new to do to pass the time.

3. Stress. Due to the two above, I know my body is under a lot of stress, both consciously and unconsciously. One way that the body deals with stress is to shut down. If your body is too tired to do anything it is less likely to go places and do things that cause stress. So I'm battling not only circumstances but my own biology as well.

Luckily I recognize these things so I do what I can to maintain my sanity and push through the tiredness. I've been exercising a lot more lately (as opposed to none), trying to not take as many naps (even if there isn't much to do), and generally just being cognizant of this so I can take advantage of any opportunities to reduce the feelings of tiredness in my life. And thankfully, I'll never be in this position again so I won't have to battle it after 3 more months.