Okay, okay, I’ll cut the snark. What can I say? I have moments where the attention whore within leaps out. Actually, she leaps up and down, “Look at meeeeeeeeeeee!”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about writing more than actually doing it. To be honest, I’ve been really frickin’ busy so the whole reflecting on the goings-on of the day in my head while driving is the best I can do. It concerns me that I think so slowly and clearly sometimes as though composing neat prose with a quill in another era. Don’t you love my imagination? Because I sure do!

So, some news:

I reluctantly attended the annual law career fair at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre organized by the city’s two law schools and ended up having a grand time. I missed out on the free Häagen-Dazs bars and other sinful treats in order to talk to representatives from potential places of future employment.

And you want to know something? I was not bitter at all. My career is more important than ice cream!

So I’m being a little bit facetious, but I think that my complete lack of bitterness points to how far I’ve come in combatting my demons. For years, food was always on my mind. I’d want to eat something… but oh the guilt! Or I’d avoid something but obsess about the fact that I could never have it without packing on the pounds etc. etc.

The story’s more complicated than this, but it’s also that simple. I was food-obsessed. Obsessed with eating it; and obsessed with avoiding it. And those around me were often obsessed with my relationship with food too.

“You’ve had enough. That’s fattening.”

“Have some more! If we don’t finish it, it will just go to waste!”

“You’ve lost weight! You look great! Keep at it!”

“Oooh. Gained a bit of weight, eh? Is that why you’re sticking with the salad?”

ANYWAY. I looked through some old pictures last night in hopes of finding one that I could cut up for my new ISIC card. Even though I’ve known that I’ve been changing, I was shocked to look at old pictures and really see that I look like a whole new person.

I think that some people are like my scale and don’t really register the change. Sometimes when I’m having a fat day, I forget how far I’ve come.

I looked at the pictures from my trip to the Bay Area a few years ago that found me fighting back tears when my little pipsqueak of a cousin innocently called me fat. Her mother scolded her, but likely had the same thought. I was actually particularly upset by this because I had already started to change my body and kind of liked what I saw in the mirror.

It freaks me out that I look at those pictures and go, “Whoa. I was chubby.”, because that was how I felt at the time and it HURT. Chubby isn’t bad in and of itself, but I felt the anti-chub pressure back then!

My physical and mental development is palpable and heartening. Although this journey is tedious, I’m on my way and it feels really fuckin’ good.

I had a heart-to-heart with my best friend, Caroline, on Friday (another story for another day) and at some point I said, “You know. I sometimes look in the mirror and think, ‘I look normal!'”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m never shooting for normal. You know me, I like problematizing things like “normal.” Want to talk disability rights? 😉

This ease, this lightness. It is thrilling. I like being me: a little wacky; a lot driven; and all me.

This entry was posted on Monday, March 20th, 2006 at 10:06 pm and is filed under Love, The Sacred and Mundane, Wheee!.
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