Friday, December 14, 2007

My moment of Genius

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Dear Body,
I’ve been rather hesitant about starting this letter for some time now. Several reasons flood through my mind in my ponderings as to why, but the predominant sentiment is a complete lack of relationship and linguistics that we might both understand. I feel as though for the last two decades we have mutually existed, in a symbiotic, parasitic relationship; my mind tormenting you and in turn, you tormenting my mind, neither of us able to achieve full fledged bliss because of our unslashable bondage.
In the past two years our attempts at integration have proved more faulty as we run headfirst, much like two trains, colliding in a resounding clash leaving us both for the worse.
Perhaps out hesitance to bond lies in the sheer pain that we have caused each other. Like two playground bullies, we have pressed each other’s buttons continually. You kept me from a normal childhood, from a normal life, but where the boundary and blame lay in outcome is rather unclear. Was it my fault, was it yours? I spent so much of my time perpetuating other’s opinions of you. I wrote about you on every page of every journal. You were the largest hurdle in my young life and I couldn’t simply jump over or walk around you. It was your fault I didn’t get certain parts, it was your fault I was teased, it was your fault I didn’t get to be like others, and it was your fault that I was tortured by my whole world, and yet, perhaps you are the innocent one as I pushed you to the point of causing those conflicts.
A bit over two years ago I staged what I would now term as the Resistance. I had been fighting with you for years, constantly in a tug or war, a give and take mentality. It didn’t work, you were simply too greedy, holding on to everything you could before I could get what I needed, what I wanted. I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I had tried everything in my bag of tricks and you simply couldn’t get it together. I decided that I didn’t care how you felt anymore. What mattered was how I felt. It was finally my time, and oh what a time it was. Helpful onlookers chimed in, informing me that if you changed, everything would still be the same, that it must be me that wasn’t okay, wasn’t happy. I chose to believe them, because, after all, they had what I was trying to get. However, as I was building up my ability to betray you, my life did get better. I was finally getting everything I wanted. I finally had everything I wanted and needed and life was grand.
That didn’t last forever. Every marathon must have an end, every play a denouncement. You reasoned eventually that if you weren’t getting what you wanted, you would simply stop functioning, stop supporting me. In an effort to undermine all that was good in my life, you started relying on our codependency to bring me down. I was fine with that for a while. It was acceptable. I would rather be satisfied ½ of the time than miserable all of the time. However, others started to notice, and it seemed that it was not okay with them. You alerted the authorities.
I didn’t have the power left in me to fight with you any longer, because as amazing as it was, you are a strong force. I was promised that if I listened to others, trusted, tried, that you and I could work together. I was hesitant, perplexed. I didn’t recall anytime in history where the Nazi’s and the Jews made amends, and why would we? However, unable to fight any longer, I caved. I knew my power now and after I was well rested, if all of these on-lookers were incorrect, I would once again have the energy to wage war.
So what am I really saying? What am I trying to accomplish here? Do I need to apologize to you? You to me?
Perhaps neither, perhaps it is simply best to acknowledge and dismiss the past as a truth. But what of the current time? In the past year we have made strides together. While an intrusive amount of sibling rivalry-esque antagonizing takes place, perhaps we have come to a mutual understanding. We have managed to fuse together as one as we step towards the future. We have a mutual understanding that we are not in our final stages of integration. In the following year, together we will go through many trials and tribulations, but the coming experience begs of us the mutual support that we have recently learned to provide. Perhaps it is a test, not merely of our ability to coexist or tolerate one and other, but of our ability to grasp hands and move into a deeper and more fulfilling experience of self.
I believe we are up for the challenge.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Spice girls ramblings

An amazing friend and I went to the Spice Girls Reunion concert in LA on friday night. It was a blast, and I dont think I have had as much fun in recent memory. It was lie reliving my preteen years, but without the preteen akwardness.
The disenhartening part about it was my direct association with the Spice Girls and their eating disorders. I recall my eating disorder flaring around the first time I saw them perform when I was much younger. Unaware of Geri Halliwell's bulimia at the time, I soon found solace in her auto-biography that outlined much of her struggle. Later, we were all made aware of Victoria's struggle and soon after, Mel C's eating and exercise issue. So as a woman in recovery who is very aware of culture and beauty standards at a Spice Girl's concert, I was sure to notice weight and behaviour. A few of them looked very thin. It didnt make me covet their bones, but rather feel sorry for the pain they must be in. Having thousands staring at you while trying to be in recovery in a dress that hardly covers your rear end has got to be sob-worthy.
What does it mean that most of the "girl power" group of my childhood struggled with eating and food? I believe it means, as a feminist who suffered for so long, that nobody is immune, we all feel pain, we are all human.
It makes me love them more.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

1958 Diet Pill Ad - Who in Bloomingdales Big Brown Bag thought/thinks this is okay?

Nice to see how far weve come in 50 years. *insert eye roll and sarcastic undertones*