So as most of you would have noticed. I’ve been losing a scary amount of weight recently.
I’ve been wanting to write about this for awhile, because this whole business bothers me a lot more than any of you think it does. So about a month ago, I think roughly the time we all got shit crazy with pre-University activities, a shocking number of people started commenting about how I’m becoming too skinny.
Like. All of a sudden. And with ferocity. Give or take three people a day (keeping in mind it’s the start of Uni and I’m re-meeting a whole bunch of people every day, so…)
The thing is, before that no one said anything about my weight and I didn’t notice anything myself either. So obviously the sudden influx of comments was quite surprise, and I’d confess it scared me a little.
Because if that many people were suddenly telling me something, clearly something was wrong.
I started getting immensely self-conscious and, mostly, worried. Started to notice that YEAH what the hell – my bones are sticking out and I can see my veins. Got myself a set of scales and I’ve dropped many, many stones since I last weighed myself half a year ago.
But, okay. After some Googling and making sure I haven’t caught on to some hybrid zombie disease the fear and worry wore off.
…the comments didn’t. Every. Single. Day. I have people telling me
“Eh you lost so much weight…”, “Why you so skinny? Eat more leh.” etc. etc. etc.
These are usually told to me in a concerned tone (for closer friends or family), or with a most annoyingly expectant trail off (for random acquaintances).
It doesn’t stop.
I know that some friends/family tell me that out of concern, and that they can’t possibly know that I probably had to deal with the same remark a few times that very morning, and I’m terribly sorry because it’s always to them that I lash out at.
The thing is guys, I don’t know – at all – how to respond to your comment.
I can’t say thank you, because both you and I know it’s not a compliment.
I’m not going to apologize for not being able to put on weight.
So effectively I’m just walled up in this fortress of awkwardness and even though I just bank out and say vaguely “I know…” and mumble something inconsequential, you guys have no idea how bloody, bloody uncomfortable it makes me and also how painful it is to have to go through the same thing again.
Some days it gets so bad I wish I don’t meet people at all so I don’t have to anticipate them going on about how I’m emaciated.
What everyone doesn’t realize is this:
It is as insensitive to talk about someone’s weight loss as it is about one’s weight gain.
Saying, “Woah you’re getting pretty fat recently” hurts as much as “Omg why are you suddenly so skinny?” Both makes the subject self-conscious about their body. Both carry no plausible or intelligent way of reply. It’s pointing out a bodily flaw of someone without intending a discussion, which in some circles can be considered pretty rude.
The only reason why we forget such a comment can hurt is because we assume the weight loss is deliberate, and desired by the loss-ee. But what if that’s not the case. What if I’m not a psycho anorexic but just someone who’s already terrified half to death of possibly having diabetes because of rapid weight loss.
So yes, my main point is – it’s easy not to realize, so I really don’t blame anyone, but it is insensitive.
Also it makes me very uncomfortable. Sometimes angry.
And since most of you are so concerned/curious, I’ll just explain everything here. Not that I feel like I need to justify myself, but – you know.
Firstly: Yes I do eat. And no I don’t starve myself.
If you knew me in my secondary school days, then yes I probably eat a lot less. For those of you who don’t – I was known to love my food and eat my food. Primarily, I ate junk and prided myself over consuming ONLY what was considered unhealthy. Everything fried, processed, saturated in salt and MSG, I inhaled. I didn’t eat vegetables or fruits. Or anything remotely healthy or vegan or organic.
The change was gradual, but even in JC I found myself starting to eat food that I’ve never bothered to try before. After graduating from JC, I expanded on my list of health foods, and started to scale down on processed/MSG-ed junk.
It wasn’t even conscious, and it was gradual. It began at the start of this year. On hindsight my diet has changed a lot. I eat fruits and vegetables and noodles and soy and I still love my meat but mostly steak and fish. The only thing I can’t wean off are chocolates and ice-cream. Neither can I get myself to enjoy rice. Because of Transience, I’ve also started exercising more because I wanted muscles.
Those are the only plausible explanations I can come up with more my losing a bunch of weight. Although it doesn’t make much sense because I’ve been on that since the beginning of the year and all the frenzied remarks came in only about a month ago. It’s probably, then, that I have diabetes. Who knows.
Besides getting caught off guard by those comments, there are other ways this whole shebang hugeeely affect my life:
1. People start to scrutinize what, and how much, I eat.
This comes from mostly my family, who are justifiably worried, I know. But meal times, which used to be highly anticipated by me, now has that extra element of stress and pressure and everything else. I can’t eat properly anymore without thinking everyone’s judging me for leaving that bit of rice behind (BUT I HATE RICE. It is MY RIGHT not to want to eat rice. LOOK AT ME CONSUME THAT PLATE OF PASTA AND STOP FOCUSSING ON THE UNEATEN RICE.)
2. …and they see only what they want to see.
I can be eating more than anyone in the family, but they don’t notice that I finished my portion of meat, they see instead that I haven’t had SECOND HELPINGS OF the meat. And they stress me about it, as if I’m starving myself sick for not eating an extra chicken wing.
Cases in point: I had an entire tray of soba, a medley of tempura, and ice-cream sundae for a meal. I offered a bite of noodles to my sister who likes soba. Everyone ignores the fact that I polished off everything else, but were very, very obsessed with how I felt the need to distribute food to someone else. It all points to how I wasn’t eating enough. Look, dad! I finished the entire plate of chicken spaghetti! No I would not like some more chicken off your plate. Yes because I refuse to I am therefore an anorexic.. who just two seconds ago ate pasta.
One more thing. I eat at a phenomenon speed. I can’t help it, there are just no brakes when I eat. Because of that every one in the family assumes that a) I haven’t eaten (because there’s nothing on my plate) or that b) I am not eating enough because amount should be quantified by time taken to eat.
3. …and they demand for me to eat more.
My grandma, in particular, keeps harrowing me to eat. One day I lost it and I told her, BUT I AM EATING. LOOK I JUST ATE EVERYTHING YOU MADE FOR ME. And she said, yes then EAT MORE. And I told her but why should I eat more when I’m already full and if I’ve already eaten the portion you intended me to eat? I mean it really doesn’t make any logical sense. I asked her, I am already eating, so what else do you want from me? She faltered for awhile before saying: “I want you to be fatter!”
Everyone: I’m not going to stuff myself even if I’m full, just so I can somehow fulfill your wish for me to get fatter.
Have you ever considered that I want to gain some weight as well? Have you ever considered that I’m eating an average human being’s intake of food (as opposed to a horse’s intake of food a couple years back), and that I’m just losing because I have a weird metabolism?
Because honestly. The only conclusion I made from everyone’s comments is that they want me to
a) Eat even when I’m not hungry/am full/don’t like whatever I have to eat.
…which I am not going to do. I don’t have to sacrifice my own comforts just to make others happy.
b) and/or revert to junk food eating habits.
…neither will I sacrifice my long-term health based on what other’s think I should be/should do.
People.
I’m not depriving myself of food.
I just have a different set of metabolic rate. And when I stop eating my obese American child food, and turn to healthy Asian child food, this shit happens. Okay?
Trust me, I had doubts too. And then I started observing everyone’s eating habits in my self-consciousness and although I no longer eat more than most others like I used to, I’m just eating the average person’s share… sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less, depending on how good the food is, or what it is.
I want everyone to know what this has done to me. I’m not being bitter or blaming anyone for anything, I just think people ought to know.
It has made me more than self-conscious. It makes me scared. Sometimes when I see my hands and they’re all skinny and stuff and I think “Eugh gross” and sometimes when I dance in front of the mirror I’m just like “Omg yucks my bones look disgusting” and every time you comment about how skinny I am I feel immensely ugly and deformed you have no idea.
It makes me dread eating with people because no matter how much I eat or what I eat, they’ll just look at my size and think oh she’s eating an anorexic kid’s diet. Maybe I just had a heavier lunch? Maybe the food is crap? Maybe I don’t like eating duck meat? I mean, give me a break. Seriously. Sometimes I feel the pressure to eat more just to show everyone I’m not disordered – but usually I don’t because I’m not the kind who needs to prove anything to anyone. More often though, I want to deliberately not eat at all just to spite anyone who’s around – but that kind of fails too because I get hungry and if it’s ice-cream I can’t resist ice-cream, and also it’s dumb.
It makes me reluctant to work out (even though I like doing it – YES I LIKE TO EXERCISE). Sometimes now when I feel the urge to run or swim I’ll think – but then I might lose more weight then die. So I opt instead to eat protein then hit the gym in a lame attempt to bulk up. Except I’m not the weight lifting kind. I actually enjoy running…
Look, I want to be a healthy weight as much as you want me to. I want to have more boobs and be able to sleep at night without my bones hurting and have clothes that fit better. But forcing myself to down what I don’t need, or want, is not the right way to do it. So stop thinking you know what’s best for me. Trust me I love my body too much to want to destroy it deliberately – I know what it needs or don’t.
Like Celine said, if I’m healthy and not starving and still alive then it’s okay, I don’t have to bother with what everyone says or thinks.
I try my best not to, but when you have a few people every day coming up to you about how you look like an African child, it’s kind of hard to ignore.
Q 