I’ve been meaning to make a post about my physical appearance, and after reading this, a lovely post about the objectification of men with abs, (I’ve been one to watch horrible films and television shows just to drool at eye candy. Yes, I’m looking at you Spartacus: Blood and Sand) I feel inspired to rant my feelings.
There’s this app called Timehop that I’m sure you’re all acquainted with. It’s a great app. I love seeing where I was a year ago, three years ago, even (cringing) five years ago. Every once in a while I come across a selfie, or even worse, a full bodied picture of myself from a couple years ago. And that’s when I think to myself, “They’re right.”
See, it started around six months ago. Literally. every. single. person that I came across who knew me prior had one sentence to say to me– “Wow Lindsey, you’ve lost weight!”
It even came to the point that I was walking downtown and I ran into my brother. It had been a while since he’d seen me, albeit, he was a little drunk. He was standing outside the bar and called out my name incredulously. He later admitted to checking me out from behind because he didn’t realize it was me. Once again, “Wow Lindsey, you’ve lost weight!”
I’m not saying that I was fat, but I was thicker, I was a little chubby, and my face was round. The Freshmen Fifteen is a real thing. The Sophomore Twenty even more so. Then, once I moved away from the fast-food, fast-paced college life and lived my last semester downtown, all of a sudden I dropped the weight. I lost 40 pounds in a matter of months without even trying, and even scarier, without even realizing that I had.
Now, this weight loss was not done intentionally or healthily. I went through a serious amount of depression and stress, and I started smoking cigarettes. I completely lost my appetite. And, I guess on a healthier note, I did purchase a bike and used that as my mode of transportation while downtown.
I remember receiving so many fucking comments and complements. The first thing people would say to me was how much weight I had lost, how good I looked, etc. ect. At first I took it with a smile, accepting the admiration, but after a while, it became aggravating. Boys that had no interest in me were suddenly texting me all the time. My mother and my sister were constantly asking me how I had done it and joked about taking on my bad habits. Last year I saw my ex, who I hadn’t seen in a year and a half, and literally the first sentence that mother fucker said to me was, “You’ve lost weight.” I wanted to punch him.
But when I say that I had no clue… I mean that I had no clue. I didn’t weigh myself. I would do it every once in a while when I was at my mom’s just to see. Back in the day I was around the 160 range. Now I’m down to 120. Snap.
I wasn’t self conscious about my weight–not really. But now, being “skinny,” I am. So many people have called out the weight that I have realized that they were aware of the weight, because they are so aware of my lack of it. It makes me literally terrified to gain it back. If it was so easy to loose, wouldn’t it be just as easy to gain?
I swear all people do is talk about physical things.
Last January I chopped off all my hair. I used to have long, thick, wavy hair. It was my mane. It was what people knew me by. So I got my sister to cut it into a short bob. Now, because I guess the weight is old news, the first thing people talk about when they see me is my haaaaaaiiirrrr. Like who caaaaaaareeeessss.
The good thing about that is… because I’m “super skinny” now and have a short haircut, hardly anybody recognizes me. Good fuckin’ riddance.