One wonders, from time to time, when food will no longer serve as our Kryptonite, the impetus to a landslide of self hatred.
And one also wonders, and fears, if the answer is: NEVER. We will never be free of the fight.
So. Okay. I have been fighting the battle for, let's say, over 25 years. And some of you have been fighting it for much longer than that. And now...we are winning. I would consider myself on the winning side. But it's still a fight.
And mommy no likey.
Did anyone catch Oprah yesterday? Portia de Rossi was on, pitching her new book and talking about her battle with anorexia and bulimia. It was interesting to watch, made me cry a little, open my eyes a little, roll my eyes a little, and made me think.
The Part That Opened My Eyes
She was reading an excerpt from her book about how after eating some yogurt, she felt horrible and fat, and she would look at herself in the mirror and call herself horrible, hateful things. It was a long list of words like fat, worthless, ugly, lazy, etc. Heather was watching with me and she said "Dang"...which made me think that she thought it was pretty extreme what Portia was saying about herself. To me...all I was thinking was...that sounds familiar. And I wasn't ready to have the discussion out loud yet, but I want (and will) ask Heather..."Don't you talk to yourself in your head like that sometimes?" Because...don't you? I just thought we all did. I certainly do. When I am really inside my head (I like to say that bc it sounds better than saying 'when I am really beating myself up') I say horrible things to me...about me. I say them because at the time, I want myself to feel terrible. I want to be wrapped in misery. I think I am trying to make myself accept the fact that I am all of those horrible things...because if I could accept the fact...then I could just get on with it.
In otherwords...if I am fat, ugly, lazy, loud, stupid, and therefore unworthy of love...and if I accept it...I could stop looking for it.
But I know that I am not those things. I know that most of the time anyways. But I wanted you to know that even shiny bright Amy talks shit about herself.
The Part That Made Me Roll My Eyes
Portia, with her 5'8" frame, starved herself down to 86 pounds. During her recovery, she went up to 167. And that is when she met Ellen. If you have seen Portia these days, she ain't no 167. She is pretty damn thin. Oprah asked her what she does now. Her answer...She lives an active life and walks her dogs.
I also had a problem with the fact that she said when she starved herself down to skeleton state, it showed how much discipline and self-control she had. And she still seemed proud of that. Which I think sends a terrible message to the women watching and now wanting...to have that same "self-control".
I did enjoy though when she was talking about how several years ago she was the face of Loreal makeup and she went for a photoshoot. They had all of these skirts for her to try on...in a size 4. All of them, over 15 skirts, were too tight and didnt fit. The director yelled "No one told me she was a size 8!!!" Oprah said, "Shoot, size 8 is my goal size".
Everything is relative.
The Part That Made Me Cry
Honestly didn't have anything to do with weight. It had to do with her coming out, the recent suicides of gay kids, and taking Ellen's last name. I will say here on this blog, because I never really said thank you...Thank You.
When I first told all of you about Heather, do you know that I didn't get ONE negative email or comment? I don't know if I lost any followers, I know that the next day the number of people following me actually increased. But I was ready for whatever anyone wanted to say. And every comment or email you sent me was nothing but supportive.
And what made me think of that is because Portia said if more people would come out and be who they are, less people would feel ashamed and hate themselves.
She also officially changed her last name to Degeneres...and Oprah asked her why that was important. And she explained, through tears, the importance of marrying the person you love, of becoming part of them.
And it makes me sad. It makes me sad that right now, in the state of Florida and I think 42 other states, I cannot marry the person I love. I could go change my last name I suppose, but that's not really the point. I think that it must be a good quality I possess that I believe that people are better than that. I forget that people think that because I love someone built the same as me, I do not deserve the same rights. I can't put on a pretty white dress, wear a pretty diamond, write my vows, and legally be bound to her.
Times are changin. I know. It still is hard.
And I know some of you are probably thinking...who in the hell wants to be married anyways?
OOOOH....MEEEE! Don't you remember Barbie and her little ring that poked through her plastic webbed fingers? The one you would lose just about as quickly as you would lose her little pink high heels or the damn Barbie hairbrush? Barbie and Ken weddings were a big deal in my Barbie table (I didnt have a barbie house, my dad built me a "barbie desk" instead...I will find you the picture).
Anyways...I guess it wouldnt be a Barbie Ken wedding would it? hahah...it's Barbie and Barbie now baby!
So there you go, a post about Oprah, lesbians, and food. A trifecta if you ask me.