The answer to what, you ask?  Why, the answer to this, of course.

It’s only been a few weeks since I made the decision to start trying to accept (and eventually love) myself as I am, but already it’s made a world of difference.

No, I’m not saying that I’m suddenly “cured” of my depression.  But I didn’t realize until now just how much of my depression was linked into my self-hatred.  And a large part of that self-hatred was directly caused by fat-hatred. 

The best way to describe it would be like this: imagine two interlinked circles.  Each circle has a large area all its own; with its own issues and problems.  On the one side, you have my depression.  On the other, my self-hatred.  But in the middle, they overlap.  And that’s where the largest part of my problem lay.  I couldn’t see where they overlapped, and so I simply felt weighed down by the power of it.

Why the myriad doctors, counselors, therapists, medicine men, witches, druid priests (okay, so I didn’t actually consult medicine men, witches, and druid priests, but I was on a roll… sue me) I’ve seen over the past 20-odd years didn’t catch that one, I’ll never know.  (Yes, I’ve been in and out of treatment for a lot of things, but mostly my depression, for over 20 years… I’m 31 now… YOU do the math.)  You’d think these experts would be able to figure out why I’m as damaged deranged fucked up as I am.

I’ve found that the bad days now aren’t as bad as they were before – and they’re fewer and farther between, to boot.  They’re much easier to deal with, and knowing where it’s coming from makes it even easier.

This whole self-acceptance/fat-acceptance thing has got me really thinking.

My best friend, for example, is bigger than me.  And I don’t just mean her weight; she’s a big woman.  Like me, she gained weight after having her children.  Before that, she was thin – but still big.  She’s tall and big-boned.  She’d never be a size zero.  Could she have gotten down to a single-digit size?  Probably, but in order to be a size zero, she’d have to get something akin to osteoporosis.  But almost the entire time I’ve known her – over four years now – she’s always been happy in her own skin.  It’s never bothered her that she happens to be a large woman.  She has always been happy with who and what she is, and it seemed that nobody else was bothered about it either. 

It boggled my brain.  In my own self-loathing, I simply couldn’t understand how she could be that size and not want to lose weight.  It came as quite a shock to me.  Granted, she’s recently started going to the doctor to get on a program to lose weight, but that’s largely because she gets a discounted gym membership out of the deal.  If she’d have been able to get that gym membership any other way, she would have done that as well.  She just wants to exercise and be healthy, and the only way she knew how to get that deal was to join that particular program.  But up until now, she has never bothered doing anything to lose weight.  If she felt like having a salad, she’d have a salad.  But if she felt like having a cheese sandwich, she’d have that, too.  She simply ate what she wanted.  Like me, she had a tendency to not eat anything during the day and only eat at night, and she didn’t overeat; so she was just as mystified as I was at how we could eat so little and yet remain so large.  But it never really bothered her.

The ironic thing?  I stop trying to lose weight; I stop obsessing over what I weigh; I stop obsessing over what I’m eating and when… and what happens?  I start to lose not so much weight, but inches.  Over the last few weeks, without even trying, my stomach seems to be shrinking.  I haven’t “let myself go.”  I haven’t suddenly decided to eat anything and everything.  I’ve simply decided to stop obsessing over what I put in my mouth and when, and the ramifications of what that means. 

I have kept an eye on my weight, mostly out of curiosity.  My weight has remained steady, but when I step on the scale to see if anything’s changed and realize that it hasn’t, I don’t feel anything.  I’m not upset, I’m not surprised, I’m just… I’ve satisfied my curiosity, and that’s it.

It’s liberating. 

(I’ve started another blog to share my ups and downs with learning to accept/love myself as I am, as well as share my thoughts on the various fat acceptance movement discussions, and if you’re so inclined, feel free to join me there.  Same rules apply: feel free to comment, but remember your manners.  Your mother taught them to you for a reason.)