One of the things I love about the fresh food markets are the delicious smells that waft around me as I stumble through them. I’m usually barking out orders to the kids – “stay close”, “watch out, there are people trying to walk past”, “yes, I know that you are hungry and we can eat something when we get home”, “okay, you can eat some raw broccoli, you freaks”.
My favourite market food is a tasty curry. I love the smell of the spices, fresh coriander and of course, naan bread. Life is complete with naan bread. Walking past, I linger and inhale the delicious smells. But that’s as close as I get to the food.
It’s because, just in case you didn’t know, fat people can’t eat in public.
huh? but why?
Because fat people are judged by others all of the time. Fat person eats a doughnut, “Oh that’s why you’re fat”. Fat person eats a salad “Hmmm, diet not working out too well for you, huh?”
It’s judgement, pure and simple. Sometimes the judgement is silent. Sometimes it is overt.
But here’s the crazy thing.
Most of the time the judgement isn’t happening to you.
It’s coming from you. At least for me, it’s in my head. It’s my brain trying to fuck with me.
Our brains have enormous capacity for good. But fuck they can be evil little fuckers.
Take a typical morning tea at work to celebrate someone’s birthday. There’s usually a good spread – biscuits, birthday cake, sausage rolls, cheese and dips. The exercise junkies usually bring in something healthy like fruit or vegetable sticks and dry-as-fuck crackers.
I’m judging myself from the moment I sit down at the table. I’m think that everyone is looking at me – silently noting down and judging what I’m eating. Usually I have to lie through my teeth about why I’m not eating much – “Oh, I just had breakfast” or “I just had a snack, I’m not really hungry”. Sometimes my body fucking sabotages me and lets out a huge roar of hunger pangs at that precise moment. “Gas” I mumble.
I usually stick to the ‘healthy’ stuff like carrot sticks. I’m hyper aware of my eyes. I really do feel like the fat kid who wants cake – my eyes are laser focussed on the chocolate gooeyness, darting between the cake and the person about to eat it. Like a game of fuck-you-over mind tennis.
fearing failure
Hi, I’m Bianca. And I’m a judgemental fucking asshole towards myself.
My problem is not that people that judge me. The problem is me and the never-ending judgement of me.
My own judgement creates superficial relationships with others.
My own judgement makes me very self-depreciating. But that’s not always a good thing.
My judgement suppresses my ego. Which you might say is a good thing, but you need a little ego to stand up for yourself and believe that you are worthy of time and attention.
My own judgement makes me afraid to admit to people that I’m looking after my health. Mainly because I’m afraid that I will fail. Then I will have to admit, to myself, that I failed. If I don’t set goals or tell anyone about my goals, and I fail then that’s okay. Because no one else knew and they can’t judge me.
But that’s bullshit. Because the only person judging me, is me.
moving from fear to love
I started this blog a week or so ago and I was determined to keep it a secret. I was (am) terrified of my friends and family discovering it, of being so exposed. So I decided to write a post about being judged by others and how to deal with it. When I started writing I realised that the judgement by others is not my problem. It’s me.
Yesterday, my Facebook friends who are on Instagram discovered my Instagram account (@thespiritdiary). I was in a meeting with my new boss and my phone was vibrating, receiving notifications that my friends were following me. I can’t even describe the pure panic I felt. I wanted to run from the meeting room, shout DEFCON1 and send my account into lockdown.
My friends, people I KNOW, are reading my website. They are reading all about me, the real me. Not the ‘everything is awesome’ me. They know my insecurities and fears. (hello to any of my friends reading this, gulp).
I nearly shut down my website.
Because now, because of this blog, everyone knows that I am fat. And that I’m trying to do something about that. And that I might fail.
Ridiculous isn’t it?
Now while this is terribly embarrassing, there is some good that can come out of this. Yes, I am losing weight (note the absence of the word ‘trying’) and yes I will probably fuck up. Because I’m human and flawed. But, if I can show other people that I can get back on that horse and keep moving tiny step, by tiny step toward my goal, well I might actually help other people believe in themselves too.
so what can we do, together?
Here is my action for myself.
If someone sees me eating a salad for lunch and asks me if I’m on a diet, I’m not going to feel embarrassed by that and internally, silently judge myself.
I’m going to say “hell yes”.
“But it’s not a diet”, I’ll tell them. “I’m looking after my health and I’m losing weight.”
And, if we get talking, I might tell them that I’m a little scared that I might fail.
It is so scary to open up to others and admit my vulnerabilities.
But it is also liberating. To not be controlled by my silent, internal judgement. To show love to myself, rather than judgement.
My jugular is exposed and I feel free for the first time in a long time.
