At 7:30 am, I was furiously peddling on a spinner to the rhythm of “I Gotta Feeling”. Sweat is dripping profusely down my cheeks and I was aware that a wet patch was beginning to show through my grey top (not a brilliant choice for gym wear by the way). My thighs were burning in hell but nothing could compare to the immense pleasure of seeing the calories counter going up.
Yet again, I have become frustrated that the scale is not pointing at the number I would like to see. Weight problem was once my biggest issue. Insensitivity of people commenting on my baby-fats when I was growing up (which is a profound understatement considering the scale of this problem in society) has planted this idea in me that if I was to be accepted by society, if I was not to be seen as a joke, then I need to be a certain number on the scale. So at the age of 13, I practically starved myself to get to my “ideal” weight. In the space of 8 months, I lost nearly 2 stone.
In hindsight, I was probably very close to developing an eating disorder: calorie countering became a daily chore; I was very OCD about number of exercises per week and the worst of all, food was a constant thought in my mind as too much restrictions only made them more desirable. However, I don’t know what pulled me back from that dark abyss and in the following years, I just gradually weaned off those dangerous obsessions.
Although my relationship with food has become somewhat normal now and I have since gained back a stone and a half, that episode in my life has nevertheless made weight a recurrent topic in my life, just like so many other girls out there.
This post is spurred on from the frustration I felt after that gym session. Frustration not of my weight this time, but of how destructive this problem is for so many people.
Now entering my ranting mode… Since female emancipation brought forward by the several waves feminist movement, surely people would have enough sense to think that women, after the riddance of corset, need not worry about being aesthetically pleasing to others. But look what happens now: the models on runway and front covers of magazines are forging a new frame in which all women should fit in. Also there are pathetic body trends such as Kim Kardashian on Paper magazine’s cover telling you that having a big arse is a talent( well in that case, anyone can acquire that talent…through the art of butt jobs). The most outrageous of all goes to the “ARE YOU BEACH BODY READY?’ advert by Protein World. I mean, how much profit are you losing that you have to exploit women’s deepest insecurity to sell your products?!
As a matter of fact, we are not emancipated from those circulation-cutting corsets at all. I find it both exasperating and upsetting that 1) we’re still not taking control of our own body. 2) we’re still letting the big corporations, who created this monochrome culture in terms of body image, making us into puppets and being manipulated by invisible strings of ideas that are ingrained in our minds. 3) the number on the scale or the cloth tag still have the ability to ruin a day and the list goes on…
Anyway, I better end this rant right now as there are more important things at hands (should really be revising for my A Level exams) but before I go I just want to say: Get yourself to a beach this summer, get your fabulous bosoms out and you have a BEACH BODY darling.