Gentle January

While the internet was trying to hype us up for new year, (you know, with all their "new me bullshit" (sorry mom)), my corner of the internet was like, nah.

To be fair, my corner of the internet is already kind of like that since I follow a lot of anti-diet culture accounts on Instagram. So you already know that we aren't doing diets just because it's January (or ever). Nevertheless, as I entered 2022, I literally had no expectations for this "new year." It does not feel like a new chapter at all. In fact, this is "junior year" of covid. If I've learned anything over the past 2 years, it's to be ready to pivot expectations at any moment. So I kind of just stopped having expectations. (I know. Super depressing. This is why I go to therapy). 

Meanwhile, in all this mediocre 2022 soup on the internet, I did stumble on to the concept of "Gentle January" from blogger Karlee Sisler Flores. The concept is simple. We're not "going for the gold" here in new years resolutions that people go-hard with in January. We're going to be kind to ourselves while wear soft pants.

I found the concept of being kind to myself (while being cozy) very appealing, especially since January is actually my least favorite month. (Well maybe its tied with February). The first week of January is my least favorite overall though. It's right after the holidays. We're usually just back from traveling and time off work. So heading back to the day-to-day is never appealing. Top it with what feels like a never ending pandemic, are we got ourselves a real dump of a week. It's hard to be kind to oneself when one is feeling the ennui of January.

There is a part of me that always wants to roll my eyes whenever I hear people talk about "being kind to yourself." But turns out, it actually works. (How annoying is that? Ha).

I've been working on being kind to myself (and thus my body) for awhile now. Right before the pandemic, I started going to see a nutritionist who specializes in intuitive eating. I discovered this concept by accident on Instagram and was finally wanting to get serious about exorcizing diet culture from my brain.

Looking back, my split brain can see how much progress I've made in that short amount of time. But the other part of my brain also sees how little I've come in what has felt like a very long time. It really depends on the day. But overall, I can see progress in the sense that I often don't think about my body. 

This is huge. For anyone who has not been sucked into diet culture, women especially are taught to constantly be judging our bodies as well as the bodies around us. We are subconsciously (and sometimes consciously) told that we need to shrink ourselves to be likable, lovable, successful etc.

It's easy to look at that last sentence and scoff, saying "that's not true. I know this." Sure, but when it's been ingrained in your brains for literal years, it's hard to actually believe that. Diet culture is so ingrained in us.

So that fact that I can go even mere hours without thinking negative thoughts about my body is a pretty big deal. I had gotten to the point a few years ago where I was constantly shaming myself for how I looked. I "felt" fat. I was "gross". If only my stomach could be a little bit flatter. If only my shoulders weren't so broad then maybe I'd look skinner.

That was the cycle going on and on and on in my head. All. The. Time.

I was tired of being at war with myself. 

But trying to feel neutral about my body has not been an easy task, especially during a pandemic. Especially during a pandemic where I am clinically depressed and on new medicine that made me gain weight. Especially being depressed during a pandemic all the while growing a non-cancerous tumor in my uterus the size of a professional softball. (That was my fibroid). If I had my pick, these past years would not be the ones I would've started this. But here we are. And in reality, I am glad I have been sticking with intuitive eating and anti-diet culture, even during lockdown when we ate an enormous amount of chips. Otherwise, I am sure I would've gotten back on Weight Watchers (which I did once before and literally have not gotten over the emotional damage that did to me). If I did that, I might've been smaller for awhile (although most people who lose weight on diets eventually gain it back), but I would've actually been more miserable and even more ingrained in the dieting system. And thinking, in this literal moment, how much I hate myself. 

I can't be that person anymore.

Don't get me wrong. It has been extremely hard accepting myself as a person with a bigger body. I had to get all new clothes (which was actually a bummer since I got rid of a bunch of pieces I loved but didn't fit into anymore). I had to realize that a lot of my favorite boutiques are no longer favorites because they barely carry L and XL sizes - let alone any plus sizes. I had to be brave and advocate at the doctors' offices by either asking the nurses to not tell me what I weigh (or refuse to be weighed at all, which I finally did for the first time at my annual allergy doctor this past summer). (Even knowing the exact number I weigh has caused me to spiral for the rest the day). I have to remember to stop my brain when I see myself in a mirror or in a photos and my first reaction is to criticize my body. I am constantly reminding myself that I don't do that anymore. (Or am trying not to anyway).

My body is allowed to take up space, broad shoulders and all.

And that is what I am being gentle with myself this winter. That and the fact that I have zero creative energy. But that's another post for another time.

Be kind to yourselves, friends. Even if that makes your roll your eyes.