On the New Year

I'm having a lot of trouble reflecting on my year that's finishing. The word that keeps coming to mind is failure, and I need to explore why. 

Let me step back and say all the things that I didn't fail at this year.  I'm kicking butt in school,  with only two terms left to go.  I've grown at work and,  while I'm far from perfect, I'm pretty good at what I do.  Plus I get to marry the man I love.

But yet,  I feel like I'm not living up to what I should be. My health slid badly,  as evidenced by my knee and walking problems. And current size. I have neglected friendships and am currently not doing any volunteer work.  My house is a disaster and I'm unable to keep up.  I don't cook enough, eat out too much, and am not being good at being domestic.  And far too often this year I have let my anxiety win. 

I guess at the end of the day,  every year is a mixed bag.  I know areas I want to work on, and next year there will be different areas.  And others the year after that.  Because I guess this is how life goes.  And we keep going and keep improving. And sometimes slide back, but then just improve again.  This doesn't make me a failure, just human. And that's okay.

Second attempt, or relapse?

This morning I did something that was very difficult to do, and very painful (although I'm not yet sure why). I signed up again for the commercial weight loss program that I had previously used, in an attempt to try to get things under control again.

Four years ago (I would never have thought it that long!) at about this time of year I was diagnosed as pre-diabetic and signed up for said commercial weight loss program at the urging of one of my doctors. Over the next 18 months I lost a significant amount of weight, and it was quite the journey. By the end I was down almost a whole person, but was still fat according to society and hideous according to me.

Then grad school happened, and being in a relationship, and being in a different job, and many other factors. Plus the major factor of biology and the metabolic changes that happen when an obese person loses drastic amounts of weight which generally causes yo-yoing. And oh my did I yo-yo. I am now the heaviest I have ever been. 

There's a lot I have hinted at but not discussed openly. This year my knee started acting up awfully, and right now it is especially bad again. I can barely walk. I no longer can sit comfortably in many of the chairs at work as the sides dig into my legs. I feel weak and scared. So I need to make changes again. Trying to make gradual changes on my own hasn't worked, there's no accountability. So this morning I bit the bullet and charged my credit card for access to the same system. 

I'm scared. I don't want to yo-yo again. I'm not doing this to lose drastic weight and become a skinny person, because I recognize that that's not going to happen for me. My goal right now is to get back to where I was before I started the first time. I've done a ton of work on body positivity, including a kick-ass tattoo that only a few of you have seen, and still see this as my bigger mission. But I am worried and scared and don't want to die young.

I considered not telling anyone, and having this be a shameful secret. But why is it shameful? Why do I feel like it is? I'm trying to give myself accountability to be healthy. So instead I decided to do the opposite and announce it to my loved ones again.

I love you all and want to be here with you for a long time, and be so comfortably. Thank you for the support I know you'll provide me. 

On why I wear headphones

As I write this,  I am standing at a bus stop outside work. Normally I would be listening to a podcast, but I can't listen and write at the same time so right now there is nothing playing in them. But I wear them anyways.

Today the Internet exploded about an article by a PUA advising men how to talk to women who are wearing headphones.  Women responded with a quick solution: don't. I wanted to add to this conversation,  because it ties in with something I've been thinking about lately. 

I've had a few discussions with cycling activists lately which involve complaints about pedestrians not moving when beeped at because they are wearing headphones.  I am always struck by a feeling of needing to explain why I wear headphones,  but not knowing how.

I'm a woman living in a mid-size city in Canada.  Overall I feel generally somewhat safe in my city.  I don't walk around alone at night in some areas,  usually ones I live next to because that's how renting works,  but it's pretty safe physically.  And yet,  I get harassed on a regular basis. Because I'm a fat woman,  this harassment takes a slightly different form.  It's probably about fifty-fifty between unwanted sexual advances and outright abuse related to my size and presumed bitchiness. With a sprinkling of complete strangers offering unwanted health advice. 

So here's the deal. I don't wear headphones because I'm entitled and don't care about others.  I wear headphones so that when cars full of men pull up beside me to call me a fat bitch, I can't hear them.  I wear headphones so that I can't hear catcalls or insults from the mouths of men I walk by.  I wear headphones so I can't hear the whispering as people stare at me.  Finally, I wear headphones so I can ignore the strangers trying  to talk to me when I don't have the strength, energy, or desire to talk to them and risk one of the above mentioned conversations.

Unless you actually know me,  don't try to talk to me when I have my headphones in.  They are my armour in this world.  Respect that.  That goes for all women, all LGBTQ+ folks,  all people of colour,  all people with sensory overload.  Pretty much everyone. Just be respectful.

And if you beep your horn at me and I don't move because of my headphones,  keep in mind there might be a reason I'm keeping the world at bay. I'm sorry my armour is a hassle to you,  but I'm not sorry I'm wearing it.

On Islam and tolerance.

Let me start with noting that in this time after the Orlando tragedy, my voice is not the one that matters.  The voices we need to be listening to are those of the LGBTTQ2SA+ community,  those of the Muslim community,  and particularly those who are in both communities. For example,  Samra Habib wrote an article specifically addressing the mourning of queer Muslims in the aftermath of this horrible attack. 

That being said, I process best sometimes by writing. And this is one of those times that something has gotten caught swirling around my head,  and needs to be written down.

The intolerance has already reared it's ugly head.  Voices yelling about the intolerance of Islam and the dangers of letting people from cultures different from our own are clamouring for hate.  Somehow the fact Christianity is often used to preach hate and that certain governments, and that parties have been dehumanizing and attacking the LGBTTQ2SA+ community in the West all on their own, has been conveniently forgetten by some. 

As I read the hate and fear filled words of Islamophobes, the same image keeps coming into my head.  An image of a quiet,  shy girl in hijab working on math problems with a tatted up tough guy day after day in a library.  You see,  my former employer was a school that had a very large population of Muslim students,  including many young female refugees from various countries.  It also had a good sized population of very out LGBTTQ2SA+ students.  And often, these students would meet.  Do you know what didn't happen often? Or at all? Hate. And violence. These students who grew up in Muslim countries,  some of which were very anti-LGBTTQ2SA+,  would interact with students diverse in racial, ethnic, gender, sexuality, ability and every other way you can imagine. I'm not going to say everyone always became friends, because this is reality,  but everyone was civil.  The worst conflict I had to deal with (which involved pushing of a cafeteria tray into another student) was between two Muslim girls who had a personality clash. 

So when I hear anti-muslim rhetoric, I think of these students I've worked with,  some who have fled untold horrors and others who came here for better opportunities.  I think of girls in hijab working with people of all genders to improve their education.  I think of the men I have worked with to help them get their old careers back who wanted nothing more than to take care of their children.  Were there some less accepting than others? Of course. But same could be said of the non-muslim students. I think of teaching the male reproductive system to embarrassed girls from Somalia and being endeared (and entertained because I'm terrible) by their mortification at saying the word scrotum. I think of the various Muslim friends and colleagues I have had, especially those who I love.  And in the end, I think of the intolerance these people face,  an intolerance none of them have earned.

There are many factors that contributed to Sunday's horrible attack. Hatred of LGBTTQ2SA+ people that is preached by political and social leaders in the US is a factor, and cannot be ignored as such.  Easy access to guns is a factor.  Toxic masculinity is a factor.  Our societal unwillingness to deal with the perpetrators of domestic abuse is a factor.  And one man's twisted relationship with his religion may be a factor in the end. 

But this entire religion, with all its internal diversity and shades, is not your scapegoat. If you turn around and direct hatred at another vulnerable group,  filled with people like the students and colleagues I have described above,  then you are contributing to the hate and fear that poisons our world.

Instead,  do something productive.  Donate to the the groups raising funds for the health care of the survivors and the burial costs of those who died.  Donate to your local LGBTTQ2SA+ advocacy groups.  If you're in the US, pressure your politicians about gun control and vote against hate.  If you can, donate blood.  Wherever you are, it will help someone. Stand up to homophobia/biphobia/transphobia and so on when you encounter it.  Also stand up against Islamophobia.  And just spread some love and tolerance to counteract the hate and fear. 

On goals

This year,  instead of a ridiculous resolution I would just break in a few weeks,  I set myself twin goals.  The first is body positivity -  to actively work every day on loving my fat body the way it is and fight the critical voice in my head.  This goal has already proved hard,  but worth it.  And I am excited at the thought of getting a related tattoo in late spring (with my sister in law).

The second goal was to introduce some regular,  sustainable fitness into my life.  I have noticed much less mobility and flexibility in my body lately,  and while I want to love my fat body I also want to take care of it. So I did something new yesterday - I joined an actual gym.

Now let me be very, very clear about this. I have absolutely zero intention of doing an intensive weight loss program. I lost 80 lbs using one, but then put on 110 lbs and am now the biggest I've ever been. Not cool. I did one yo-yo, and know enough to refuse to spend my life doing that. So while I would love to get down to at least my pre-weight-loss weight, that's not actually the goal. The goal is to be able to walk from work to the mall and not feel sore and out of breath. The goal is to get up off the floor properly when working on things.. The goal is to be able to do more than one flight of stairs without gasping for air. The goal is to keep up with long-legs McKyle when walking instead of asking him to slow down.

The gym I joined is one that seems more geared towards extreme goals. You start off with two personal trainer sessions and one nutrition session. I had my first trainer session, an assessment, today. I was pretty leery, but my friend who goes to this gym hooked me up with an awesome trainer. She listened to and respected my goal, and right away zeroed in on improving my ankle stability as a starting point so that I don't sprain it again and take myself out of commission. That's a goal I can definitely get behind!

I'm pretty excited about both of these goals now. Plus, while it's not a major goal, maybe I'll one day be able to fit into the Star Wars skirt I just got! (Apparently ThinkGeek and I disagree about what a 2X looks like...)