Early & Alone #22: The See-Saw
Last week, during a stretch in the afternoon when I was so sleepy I felt like maple syrup was sliding through my veins instead of blood, I almost signed up for a $200 service called FASTer Way to Fat Loss. I was taking a break from editing some dense documents at work, and had idly clicked on a link in a fashion blog, one of my most trusted escape routes from the world.
I’ve noticed this fat loss program mentioned on other bloggers’ sites before and had even clicked over to the website to investigate. Somehow, it didn’t matter that the women touting the many benefits of this program are the same ones who put together exhaustive posts of items they try on at various stores, listing the sizes of each garment, those sizes never reaching the double digits. All that mattered is that this program promised to be unique and effective and life-changing. And if there’s anything I’m looking for, it’s something unique and effective and life-changing.
Earlier this year, I visited a dietician bi-weekly over three months. I was hoping that seeing a dietician would help me work through my bad eating habits--treating food as a reward, stress eating, not paying enough attention to fruits and vegetables. To my mind, a dietician is someone who will tailor your diet to your body and specific needs. Instead, this dietician had me take photos of everything I ate and log them into an app, where she would make comments like “You need more green in that pasta!” or “Yum, cheat meal!” She told me the secret to weight loss was eating tons of fiber. I’d been looking for something life-changing, but in the end, I spent a lot of time and money to learn things I could have just read about on the Internet, for free.
Thankfully, I snapped out of my FASTer Way to Weight Loss trance (this happened when I clicked on the founder’s Instagram and saw many references to God, which didn’t seem relevant to carb cycling and macro counts) and didn’t sign up for the program. But it got me thinking about the way in which I’ve been living my life lately.
It seems that I’ve been on a see-saw, teetering between two extremes: obsessing over my weight and what I’m eating, following meal plans and vowing to cut out dairy and cut down on alcohol; and eating anything I want, whenever I want: ice cream, burritos, half a bottle of wine on a Monday night just because. These two extremes have corollary thought processes: the first is, “I hate the way I look, I’ve gained so much weight over the last five years, I can’t buy pants that fit me at J. Crew anymore, my life is over” while the second is, “I’m getting older, this is just what happens to women’s bodies, I’m probably the only person who even notices, food is sometimes the most joyful part of my day, life is short and difficult--is it even worth living if we have to count every calorie that passes through our lips?”
Life on a see-saw is exhausting.
The see-saw mentality isn’t limited to eating and body image though--it’s also pervasive in the way I’ve been thinking about dating. On the one extreme, I feel alone and lonely, desperate for a partner. In that mindset, I come up with targeted plans to make the most out of dating, swiping on the apps every day, and sending a quota of messages to potential matches. I tell myself to keep an open mind, swiping right on dudes who may not be my type, but….maybe? Isn’t it worth taking a chance? On the other extreme, I am tired of the entire dating enterprise, completely disenchanted with men as a gender (see also: every news story of the last 2 years), happy to spend weekends in solitude, reading and stretching out in my queen-sized bed, and prone to believe that there are just more eligible women out there than there are men, and in this giant game of Musical Chairs, there are destined to be losers, so I might as well find a comfortable perch elsewhere.
I find myself wondering, more and more, what it would be like to get off the see-saw and just live my life? To accept my body as it is, feeding it food that nourishes me and brings me happiness, moving it several times a week, focusing on being healthy rather than obsessive. And to really live with the notion of being single, to not spend so much time worrying about the partner who may or may not be out there for me. To write or read or make plans with friends instead of swiping through endless photos of men that blur together after a while, more and more meaningless as the months fly by.
I’ve been reading Glynnis MacNicol’s superb memoir, No One Tells You This, and one of the lines (among many) that have struck me is this one: “I knew I could be alone, but what if I gave myself permission to prefer it? What would that be like?”
New section!
What I’m Watching: I watched the entire new season of BoJack Horseman over a few days last week and it’s the best it’s been--don’t sleep on it!
What I’m Hearing: Honestly, I’ve been all about 70s rock lately, specifically Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, which never gets old. Also, the Forever 35 podcast is a delight--on the surface, it’s a podcast about “self-care” but it’s really a podcast about friendship and adulthood and learning how to be in the world.
What I’m Wearing: I swore I would never do this, but a couple of weeks ago, I bought jeans that have holes ripped in them, intentionally. They were very expensive, also. But they are SO comfortable and I’ve been wearing them pretty much nonstop ever since.
What I’m Reading: See above, but also, I’ve been reading Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff, about the early days of the space program, and it’s not only interesting, but also a master lesson in narrative journalism.