2.15.21 :: Crack!

Welp, friends. Florida is a bust, because...my tooth is busted! Another crack on another molar, meaning another visit to the dentist and doling out cash money for a deluxe crown that, unfortunately, is not as ostentatious as, say, a grill, but just as expensive. 

Another sign from the universe to slow down and, as one soul sister said, stop running away. 

I didn't think I was running away from my problems when I last posted. And I truly apologize to anyone I worried over my crisis. I try to speak candidly about mental health, because for so many years I didn't speak up and it snowballed into the inevitable solitude that anchors you to the bottom of the well. When I say I've had depression before, I'm talking about years ago. College. My parents' divorce. Very low times when I was drowning. This year has had moments of fighting against the current, but nothing in comparison. Especially when I can see the tide coming and know exactly how to swim back to safety--even if it's an ice cream- and pizza-laden slog.

Coming out of quarantine obviously made a world of difference. I spent the new year (gung hay fat choy!) in a new pod with an old friend, cackling over BTS reaction videos and chasing toddlers and taking an in-depth tour of a four-year-old's train- and candy-filled bedroom and it was glorious. It reminded me of my last visit to the dentist, actually, in December, when I was so excited to meet a new human I was a non-stop chatterbox and left the office on a first name basis with the staff, having exchanged hairstylist info.

Just typing that is making what I'm about to say come full circle.

On Saturday, I peered into my past lives. Aka, I met with an Akashic Record reader.

It was nothing as profound or intense or overwhelming as my hour with the medium, and I'm still not 100% sold on the experience, however, she said things that, even if they're a pile of baloney, can't just be tossed away:

• I thrive when connected to the earth and, when feeling unbalanced, should seek the outdoors.
• My past lives have mostly revolved around artistic expression--but never creating art for myself. This life is about breaking free to create for me.
• I will thrive in this life if I surround myself with women (hello, higher ed) and choose a path that will uplift them.
• My soul purpose for this life is to finally, unconditionally love myself.

That last one, even if she'd been wearing a hat that said SWINDLER, I could not ignore. And it perfectly aligned with another journey I've been on for a long time: shedding diet culture and fat phobia. 

There's an incredible podcast called You're Wrong About that unfolds the facts surrounding cultural touchstones we think we know, but probably got wrong. My favorites: upending the personas of saintly Princess Diana, dumb Jessica Simpson, and trailer trash Tonya Harding. Just the concept of this podcast has had me sighing at my own misconceptions of famous women throughout my life, ideas that were molded by the media and society, and have framed my own self-perception. One of the hosts also created a podcast Maintenance Phase--where, as they say, wellness and weight loss are debunked and decoded--with Aubrey Gordon, Your Fat Friend, and author of What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat. 

Now, I don't know about you, but I've never had a flat tummy. My thighs have always kissed (or been in a constant makeout session) while walking. I learned to count points and replace meals with shakes in middle school. I have always told myself "I'll do/wear/be/become/seize that when I'm thin." On the frontlines of a war with my willpower and DNA for almost four decades, I never truly realized that I will never win with the armor I've been given.

Until today.

Listening to Aubrey break down the science behind diet culture--studies that prove diets not only don't work they stall most people in the long run, shame campaigns that are built with good intentions but inevitably scar children and burden their self-image for a lifetime, the racist beginnings of the BMI, and so on--I was stunned.

I shouldn't have been. I'm not a sheep. At least, I don't think I am in a reasonable scenario. (Toss me into the Hunger Games and time will tell.) But scurrying along the icy sidewalk today, I finally realized I need to break the dam. I need to stop trying to shoehorn myself into a mold created by a society that upholds the thin as morally virtuous--when, as we all know, the majority of U.S. adults are not thin by BMI standards, thin people can be just as unhealthy as fat people, and the Thinnest of Them All is Skeletor reincarnated. 

It's hard to flip a switch overnight. To overturn millions of imprinted television, magazine, and movie images; conversations with friends and family and doctors; thoughts of self-doubt.

But, here are my Chinese New Year resolutions:

• Delete that goddamn Weight Watchers app.
• Get rid of the "aspirational" clothes in the house that are sucking up heat and air conditioning and would be better served at the Salvation Army. And change those aspirations from weight-based goals to life-, happiness-, and love-based goals. Like climbing the Trolltunga in Norway, eating tteokbokki in Seoul, or finishing that Sanditon podcast. 
• Stop talking about my weight. Full stop. Because it's no longer a focus. Health, yes. Endurance, yes. Strength, hell yes. Weight, no more.
• And most importantly: Unconditional love. Just do it. Just love yourself. 

Some of you probably think I'm nuts. Of course you should love yourself. But everyone's strengths are different, and I haven't always been the kindest, most understanding friend to myself. I hope you are--and making it through what looks to be another hurdle of a year. And if anyone wants some size 8, 10, and 12 LOFT pants, slide into my DMs.

Thanks for being you. xx