Moving Forward Again

Dear World,
I got pretty angry at you last week. Now that we've had a few days to cool off, let's talk it out - what do you think?

I've had a crazy flood of messages come at me over the weekend, which is awesome (and really I was pretty overwhelmed at the outpouring of support so thanks again everyone) because my goal here is to call out the elephants in the room, to get people to notice them and acknowledge them and hey, maybe even start up a conversation and get some understanding going on both sides. Yes, I did mean for that double entendre to happen. Yes, it's a little offensive. But the shoe fits.

Here's the thing though, and a lot of you mentioned it - I dare say a lot more of you read my rant and thought it but didn't want to say anything - but don't worry, I was thinking it too:
Whose hang-up is this anyway? Am I just projecting all my own shit all over everyone? Is it my issue or everyone else's?

The answer is, it's gray area. (Okay, I'll stop with the double entendres now. Ha.) Of course lots of it came from my own head. Probably some of the people I ran into at the gym just didn't see me or recognize me...but it wasn't ALL me. There's no way. And this isn't just my problem, weight gain has a huge stigma attached to it, especially in the fitness industry...and I get why. I really do - and if I'm honest, I can't even disagree with it a hundred percent.

I'm reminded of a conversation I had recently with my boss: I was attempting to express to him my frustrations with being and feeling judged at work, that my current appearance isn't ME and I don't know less or feel like I should be worth less because I've gained 60lbs. After all, I didn't suddenly decide one day that to hell with this eating properly and exercising shit, I was just going to sit around and eat pizza and donuts...I developed a tumour which caused a hormone imbalance. I never stopped valuing healthy living,  it just LOOKS like I did.  His response (and he was matter-of-fact but not unkind) was that like it or not, as trainers it is our job to be paragons of good health, to be the inspiration, to model the lifestyle that we're selling. People judge based on what they see, I can't expect them not to and I have no real right to get angry about it.

So there's that. Here's what it really boils down to, though, and this is the conclusion that I've reached after stewing for days about how to deal, debating whether or not to even stay in this field, and wondering how to move forward in a body that doesn't seem to want to. Ready?

"After stewing in his emotions, emo veg comes to the 

conclusion that the root of the world's problems

 is that people don't seem to carrot all."

I could drive myself crazy trying to own everyone else's shit, trying to change the world and alter how people think and interact and function from day to day....or not. Instead I could just accept that all this body image stuff is my challenge to face, and just keep on putting one foot in front of the other. Either way, it's my choice, and I'm choosing not to make myself crazy. My efforts are better spent elsewhere - like on learning to feel like myself again!

So, dear world, think what you want. I don't have to know or care because the only opinions and prejudices I have to own are mine. It is not up to me to please you. I'm not sure where that leaves us but I think our relationship can grow from here now that we've re-balanced the power.

Growing Invisible

"Wow. WOW. Okay, you can step down from there."

Obediently, I stepped off the scale and sat down in the endocrinologist's office. The nurse had asked me to face away from the display on the scale so I had no idea what the damage was. Actually, that's a lie. I had some idea.

"Are you aware that over the last year your weight has increased more than twenty percent? TWENTY PERCENT!!"

Yes, I said, I am aware. That's a big part of why I'm here.

"OK. Well. As long as you're aware."

***

Dear everybody, I haven't written in a while...I've been in a not so good place.

See, I thought that getting fat was not going to change who I was. I thought that it wouldn't - couldn't - change how people who knew me saw me. I thought that having a solid professional track record would outweigh (pun intended) my appearance. How wrong I was about everything.

Apparently, if you're a trainer it doesn't matter what you know, who you are, or what your history is. If you get fat, you turn into a joke. Nobody cares why. It doesn't matter, because in the fitness industry it's all about looking good. If you don't look the part then you're a fraud.

But I knew all that. It's not a subtle point that's been driven home again and again, but something happened today that went a little deeper than usual. Gather 'round everyone, I have a story for you.

So three weeks ago, I turned to a well-known trainer's online coaching program. I'll tell you more about that in another post, but this program is a pretty extreme regimen - not at all what I usually preach to my clients, but you have to understand that I needed desperately to feel like myself again.
I was heavier than I'd been in years, I was fighting with awful side effects from the new drug the endocrinologist had put me on, my career was in free fall, and my confidence was at rock bottom.

But this morning, after three grueling weeks on my new program with a hard-ass coach in my corner, I was down eleven pounds and starting to feel better. I decided that it was time to make an appearance where I used to work...so I wandered into the old stomping ground and bought a membership - I wanted somewhere else to train besides my current studio and it was close by. Plus I thought it would be fun to see some familiar faces and catch up. Seemed to make perfect sense.

Now, in my current state, eleven pounds down is nice and all, but it's a drop in the barrel. I know there's a long way to go. But I'm still me, even if I look like I climbed into a sumo suit and can't find my way out. Or so I thought.

Because you know what happened in the gym this morning? Nothing. People I knew and would have stopped to talk to looked at me and quickly looked away. People I was happy to see and shared food and gossip with at social gatherings only a few months ago avoided eye contact so conspicuously it bordered on ridiculous. In the hour and a half that I spent there I didn't talk to a soul.

I didn't know how to feel. Invisible. Hurt. Angry. Seriously, people? Is it so awful to be seen talking to a chunky person? Or is it that the first thing that comes out of your mouths when you see each other is "oh my gawd you look so lean and gorgeous!" (or something to that effect) and you can't say that to me? Is it so hard to make conversation about something meaningful instead of an exchange of superficial banalities? Or are you just so horrified that you don't know what to say?

I debated what to do. Go hide in the shower and cry? No. Cut my workout short and go home in shame? Fuck that. I mean, don't get me wrong - the options that included cutting and running were attractive, but I didn't want to be that girl. I finished my workout. Then I went and cried in my car.

So dudes, here's the thing: I don't want to be a trainer anymore. I don't want to be part of this youth-and-beauty-worshipping poisonous bullshit factory that masquerades as an industry that's supposed to help people. I became a trainer because I thought I could help change that, but then I gained 60lbs and turned invisible.

Anyway. For the moment I don't know what else I would do. I love my job. It makes me so mad that I can't make a living doing what I'm good at because of how I look, that I'm sure I could shoot fire out of my eyeballs if I really tried hard. So for now the plan is this: I'm committed to my coach for three more months. If I can't find some mojo again in that time, I'm out. If I do, then freakin' look out, fitness industry, because I'm coming for you.