Monday, December 9, 2019

I remember the number


I remember the number on the scale the day I hit my lowest weight in high school. I remember the leotard I wore that day to ballet and the compliment I received. I remember the tasteless smoothie I drank that morning. And most of all, I remember the rush; the one that made me feel like I was suddenly powerful, beautiful, and worthy.

I journaled a lot during that time. 2 weeks prior, I had made a schedule of how much weight I planned to lose before spring break. 

“I’m seriously excited for this challenge. I need it. I need the sweat, the tears, the effort, the change.” 

And I did lose weight. 

Then gained it. 

Then lost it again. 

Fast forward 2 months later: 
“I feel like there’s no way out. I feel like the only escape is to sleep, so I use that escape and then wake up and feel darkness again. It’s all I ever think about, ever. I find momentary happiness, momentary forgetfulness, and then there are other times when I just feel like I’m sinking.” 

This was around the time that one of my dance teachers, with no idea what was going on, said “it’s like a light has gone out of you.” 

He was right. 

ED had sucked the life and light out of me. As my “health goals” turned more and more obsessive, ED ravaged my mind and led me to believe that I would never be happy until I lost weight. 

I’m sharing this because I saw a girl at the gym yesterday working out, then she stepped on the scale, looked at the number, and went back to working out. 

I’m sharing this because 4 years ago I was on exchanges with a sweet sister missionary on her first day in Perú and one of her first questions to me was: “Have you gained weight on the mission?” 

You could hear the fear in her voice. 

I’m sharing this because there are at least 3 billboards on my drive from Provo to Salt Lake advertising weight loss surgery and body transformations. 

I’m sharing this because one of my professors recently shared how much weight he lost this semester and the room applauded. 

I’m sharing this because for every “before and after” picture posted on social media, there is someone scrolling through their feed who exists in a larger body—a body the size of the “before” picture. And when they see it, they will hear the message loud and clear: lose weight.

And most of all, I’m sharing this for young Christine; and by extension, every young girl who currently feels like their body isn’t good enough. 

Did you know that 92% of teen girls (13-16) want to change one aspect of their appearance?

75% want to lose weight.

76% admit to unhealthy actions (binge, purge, laxative use) on a regular basis.

86% of USA women are dissatisfied with their body.

2/5 would gladly give up 3-5 years of life to reach their weight goals.

Working mom #1 wish in the USA is to lose weight.

90% of diets fail after 1 year. Dieting is a consistent predictor of weight gain.

Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and altered immune function.
(stats from @heytiffanyroe) 

Something is wrong.
Something is deeply, deeply wrong. 

I am not anti-weight loss. I’m also definitely not anti-people who pursue weight loss. 
But I *am* adamantly, fiercely against a cultural paradigm that demands the pursuit of weight loss.

I remember the number.

I remember it because it defined me. My weight was part of my identity and manipulating my weight was my purpose. 

But the light had gone out.



I’m here to tell 17 year old Christine that she was not a failure. She did not lack self control. The darkness wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know it at the time, but she was suffering from a mental illness; one that no one seemed to talk about. 

She had an eating disorder. 

So do me a favor. Check on the teen girls in your life. Open up the dialogue surrounding mental health, body image, and diet culture. Eating disorders thrive on shame and shame thrives on secrecy. 

She might not be ready to open up, but maybe we can help her feel a little less alone, a little more loved, and a little more hopeful.

And for the love—please get rid of the scale. Or at least attach this sticky note to it.




For more background on my journey with an eating disorder:
http://christineparks.blogspot.com/2019/05/the-eating-disorder-that-no-one-talks.html