Don’t Chastise Me for Eating Healthy
I work extremely hard to keep my weight in the proper range for my height. To maintain or lose weight means constant vigilance. I cringe every time someone says, “Oh! I couldn’t do what you do!” or “That’s just excessive.” Whatever happened to complimenting someone for their hard work such as, “Wow, that’s awesome.” or “You put in a lot of time making your meals and exercising at the gym.”
In the United States we’re pressed to look a certain way, which is tan, trim, tall and youthful so men and women get spray tans, and women wear ridiculously high heels. A sexy female body means having a big booty and bodacious boobs with a waist the size of your wrist. We’re supposed to look like Barbie and Ken and live it up like there is no tomorrow. The juxtaposition is that we’re supposed to look perfect, but eat and drink items that make us heavy and ruin our skin. Media encourages adults to have fun and the only way to do that is by drinking large margaritas and cool Cervezas, getting crazy at your wealthy friend’s house party, and enjoying a hamburger the size of your head. It’s no wonder so many people are overweight. The reality is that beautiful people cannot stay attractive if they are drinking alcohol, eating burgers or partying on a regular basis.
The fit folks I know have an alcoholic drink occasionally, eat a burger or some other high-fat food on their cheat day (no more than once a week) and keep the partying to a minimum, which is hardly ever. I would prefer to have the pasta dish paired with a lemon drop martini, but don’t give me grief for ordering the salmon with an iced tea. It’s not easy to eat low fat and low calorie day-in and day-out. I don’t need you to discourage me from ordering the healthy dish on the menu. Don’t tell me I’m not fun because I won’t order a dessert. My personality didn’t change because I’m cutting back on sugar. Don’t push me to drink alcohol and get drunk with you. I’m driving home and don’t want to ruin my Sunday with a hangover. Don’t call me a party pooper because I’m tired at ten. I don’t want to hold your hair at midnight while you puke on the sidewalk while you complain that you’re fat.