No one cares about your stupid diet!

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Here are some choice things I've heard from girls around me.

"I have to go to the gym, I've been eating obese food all week"

"I'm not eating carbs anymore/I've had my carb for the day"

"He wants to drink full calorie pop!"

Not to mention their full run-down of every thing they ate during the day or description [down to the minute] of what they were going to do at the gym, whining about needing to exercise before promptly flip-flopping about whether or not to go work-out [then declaring it was awful, because their iPod died halfway]. As well as the ever annoying struggle of whether or not to have an indulgence.

I'm tired of this self-loathing bullshit, but I truly hate it when it's the only topic of conversation. It's one thing to adopt a healthier lifestyle, but nobody else cares.

I do not care about the healthy new recipe you're going to try. I do not give a shit about the latest exercise craze. I don't give a fuck about your cleanse. I. DON'T. CARE.

And frankly, people seem stupid for talking about it. If a conversation turned to how great certain foods are for your health, my eyes are going to glaze over eventually, because it's boring.

Non-stop chatter between women about their diets promotes unhealthy body image and eating habits. "Oh no, Molly stopped eating chocolate, maybe I should too." "Heather stopped eating meat, I could never do something like that". Those are all personal choices for each person and if that's not your specific bag, then you don't have to buy it. People just can't believe it.

You tell someone they look awesome, and they say they can't fit in their jeans. You buy a slice of pizza, and a friend says they wished they had your high metabolism. If they lose ten pounds, they're a better person. To be fair this is the culture we live in that equates weight with health. If you're not eating a salad for lunch you're a bad person. That's what it feels like. But I don't really care. You can't judge me because I like grilled cheese and I can't afford organic peanut butter and almond milk. That's my business.

So "Riots, not diets", because that's far more interesting the rabbit food you indulge in.

-Cathryn

Notes on self-esteem

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My heart reaches out when I hear stories like Heidi Montag. Stories about people who feel so deeply unattractive and ashamed of their bodies that they resort to drastic diets and surgeries to feel better about themselves.

I think everyone experiences some unhappiness with their bodies and features at some point in their life. But getting plastic surgery is sort of this demented notion that you'll become "your best you" as if having your chin reduced and your cheeks and lips puffed out will result in instant confidence. Only you have the power to become the person you want to be.

These insecurities are holding us back. "Oh that guy isn't going to like me, he'll be too distracted by my massive schnoz to notice me." Well that gets you nowhere. You've psyched yourself out. Getting a nose job won't necessarily change that mindset. It just adds a level of artificiality. Plus I guarantee most people aren't fixating on your perceived flaws as much you are. And you shouldn't change yourself to please a guy, because that won't make you happy.

Even the women you might deem as the epitome of attractiveness feel imperfect sometimes. But that doesn't hinder them, and it shouldn't hinder you.

With love and affirmations

Cathryn

Learning to love myself

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Today, I was in H+M trying on a top. I looked in the mirror from behind and I got my first good look at all the acne scars on my back. A smattering of dots that span from my waist to my shoulders.

I sighed. I never had a problem with zits on any other part of my body until last year. I could never really get a good look at them until today. I was vaguely aware of their aftermath, but I didn't give them much thought. I'd just forget they were there.

So when I saw my scars in all their spotty glory, I felt sad for about 30 seconds and then went on with my day. Because in the end they're never going to go away. I could soak them in vitamin e and scrub them until my back goes raw, but it won't amount to much. They may fade slightly, but for the most part they are there forever.

I could feel sad about this because I don't have "flawless" skin. No, it's not perfect, but I'm not perfect. I might as well embrace it. They may not have occurred under interesting circumstances [like a white water rafting incident], but that doesn't mean I should hide them, or worry that guys will find it repulsive.

Here's the thing. Guys have far weirder body issues than girls do. They're hairier, and generally sweatier which means smellier. That's not the most eloquent way of putting it, but it's true. And I don't care. If I like the person, I'm not going to care if they have a little extra hairs sprouting on their chests or backs. It's not going to change how they make me laugh or the way they make me feel. There's more to people than their appearance.

I think the reason people hate these so-called flaws is because they're afraid of what other people will think. As if having wide hips is like wearing a sign across your chest that says "ugly" in big bold letters. And that's just silly. What I've noticed is that people don't generally notice these flaws and, if they do, they tend to like them. I went through a period where I thought my nose was too big or wide or whatever silly girls think when they're insecure. I never mentioned it to my then boyfriend but one day he said to me that he likes my nose and that it's cute like a button. The point is that if you learn to accept even the flawed aspects of yourself, you draw people to you that will love them too. If someone has crooked teeth, but still shows them off anyway, you won't notice the "imperfection", and anybody who does still notice and is bothered by it, for whatever reason, is not worth having as a friend. Whereas if all you talk about are what you hate about yourself, that's all they're going to think of you. And who will love all of you, if you don't even love all of yourself. It's a complete turn off

Sure, I could fret over these scars. I could try and cover them with make-up or clothes. No more two-piece bathing suits or low-backed dresses. God forbid someone saw them and recoiled in disgust. Or I could just own it. I kind of love the fact that they look like connect the dots. They stand out against my light skin like cigarette burns on a coffee table. Like they tell a story. And one day someone will come along and read the story like braille. And they will know a part of me that only a few know about. And I will love them.

The thing is they weren't a problem until after my ex-boyfriend left for an extended period of time. I was worried about his reaction to them when he got back. Like it would be too big of a change. I would be a different person from before he left. Well that much is true. I have changed. And these scars are a part of it. Any person I meet now will know me with these scars, and I'm okay with it.

With love and back scratches

Cathryn