I make resolutions/goals that will make my new year happier and more fun. My weight has nothing to do with my happiness.
I’m not making weight loss a New Year’s resolution because I’ve got better things to do with my time!
I’m not trying to lose weight this year because I’m finally-FINALLY-learning to love the skin I’m in. I’m not perfect and I make a lot of mistakes, but my body size and looks are not among them. There are so many other goals and resolutions for me to look forward to—who has time for the self-loathing and despair that weight loss aspirations bring?
I’m not pursuing weight loss because research shows that dieting is ineffective for long-term weight loss and also, I love #mygloriousfattuchus
I see resolutions as a way to make changes or promises to myself to make me feel better and more in control of my life. Nothing makes me feel less in control than weight loss. It creates a space where hating myself, or feeling like a failure is possible at every meal. I don’t want to live that way.My doctor suggested I lose weight for a genetic disorder that I’m currently dealing with, and while I’m considering it, it’s just further solidified for me so far that I don’t want to. I’m so tired of passing judgement on what I eat, and limiting what I can and can’t do or enjoy. If I have to lose weight, it’ll be the same way someone has to endure chemo or a hip replacement. It’s not joyous for me. It doesn’t enhance or celebrate me as a person, it tears me down and devalues who I am and always have been. I don’t see that experience as goal-worthy.
I have a fabulous closet right now and don’t want to buy new clothes. Also, working out for me isn’t about losing weight. Same goes for choosing healthier options as much as possible. I see losing weight while doing those as a possible benefit/side effect, but it’s more about getting stronger and feeling better.
I am happy with the body I have! Diets only perpetuate feelings of failure and self-loathing! The only things I’m working on are sharing the selflove and body positive message! Our body does not define us but our actions do so be kind, generous and thoughtful!
Hear more from Ena here!
44 years of weight loss attempts, all advised by doctors and some coerced as a condition of receiving medical care, have in the end resulted in significant weight gain. Lose - regain - gain more. Rinse, repeat. I know a failed strategy when I see it and I refuse to play this game again. I played that game for a lot of years, and I am done with it. The information on my tape measure is only useful for purchasing clothing that fits, and I no longer participate in weighing in any context. (And not that this was the point, but after decades of yoyoing to ever higher weights? Since I broke up with my scale, my clothing size has stabilized and remained steady for years) What I know now and wish I had known at twenty is that sure, I can become thinner, but when I do it takes up every shred of energy (physical, emotional, social) that I have, leaving nothing for any other purpose, and it doesn’t make me happier, kinder, wiser, of better. Furthermore, it means I am always waiting on that one thing (event, activity, whatever) until I am thinner, as though the body I have—and the self inside it—doesn’t deserve to live. No more. The body I have is not thin. It might not ever be, or it might; I treat it well with nourishing food and a variety of movement. Either way, I’m not punishing myself by aiming for an arbitrary goal any more.
Weight Loss as a concept in Western Society is all about shaming, self-harm, misinformation and hatred. I choose this year, and all years, to lead with self-care and health in mind and to love myself and others, in all beautiful shapes and sizes, at all points in our self-care journeys.
There are many people who can explain why chasing an arbitrary number on the scale and fighting your body is unnatural, unhealthy, and fruitless but it is a big reason why participating in diets and diet culture is not a goal for me. The main reason though is do we know how much Malala Yousafzai weighs? Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie? Frida Kahlo? The Williams sisters? Fuck no, we do not. When our president is a sexual predator whose cabinet is full of unqualified fascists, we need to focus on making the world a safe place for all people and achieving greatness rather than buying into empty ideals promoted by those same fascists.
Weight loss is not one of my New Year’s resolutions because I no longer believe that losing weight is good for my health. For as long as I can remember (even as young as 11 or 12), I have been striving to have the kind of life I wanted, and I believed the only way that I would achieve such a life was to look a certain way and weigh no more than a certain amount. As soon as my body started looking different than what I had pictured for myself (based largely on societal standards), I began to hate my body. This started at age 12 and is still something that I struggle with every day at age 33. For over 20 years, I dedicated my life to dieting. I knew that if I could just lose weight, be smaller, thinner, prettier… that I would be a better partner, a better sister and a better mom (someday). And as it is with 98% of people that diet, I gained any weight that I lost, and more with each “failed” attempt. The number on the scale and the never-ending quest to have the “magical life” I wanted, coupled with the certain shame and self-hate that followed each weight loss attempt, triggered a vicious eating disorder that I am still fighting. The diet-shame cycle also caused depression and anxiety disorders that will likely remain with me throughout my life. Everything changed for me when I decided that I was enough as I am, a fat woman. Embracing and loving my body the way it is today – every day – however that may be – has allowed me to live a life that I didn’t think was possible. I am a much heathier (and happier!) fat woman than I ever was when I was a fat-but-I’m-trying woman. The magical life that I strived so long for was here waiting for me the entire time. I am loving every FAT second of it!
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes while I was pregnant this year and I had to go on a strict diet to make sure my sugar levels were safe for the baby. Although weight loss was absolutely NOT the goal, I ended up losing a lot of weight while I was still pregnant. But I also learned so much about the foods I eat and how it affects my health and the health of my baby. Now that I’m breastfeeding, my goals for 2017 will be to give my daughter a well-rounded supply of nutrients (which includes carbs, people!) so she can keep gaining weight, growing and developing in a healthy way. I haven’t stepped on a scale since giving birth and I have an undeniable appreciation for this awesome body that made, grew and delivered a baby all by itself. In 2017, I want to show it love and thank it for doing good work.
For me, it’s about being honest with myself about why I’ve tried to lose weight in the past. There are probably many people who resolve to lose weight because they truly believe it will make them healthier and that’s important to them. But for me, I’ve never actually tried to lose weight to be healthier; I’ve only ever tried to lose weight to be prettier. I need to be honest about that. I need to separate the ways I strive for health and the ways I perceive beauty. I had a fitness-related resolution in 2016 - running my first 10-miler - which I crushed back in March. And I have one this year: running my first half-marathon. So again in this New Year, I will work on doing something I’ve never done before. (I’ve been a runner for years, and for the most part, it hasn’t kept me from being fat, much to the confusion of medical professionals who treat me and running staff who stare in disbelief when they hand me my 10-mile bib). I will work on strengthening my body. I will work on giving breath to my lungs and blood to my body and power to my glorious heart. Whether or not I gain or lose a single pound. And I will be more expansive in the ways I look for beauty, both in myself and in the world.
Weight loss isn’t a goal because loving myself as I am is more sustainable and joyful than weight loss could ever be.Regular exercise and body movement IS a habit I’m trying to reform in 2017 because it’s best preventative medicine for my MS, depression, and anxiety.
Objective evidence shows weight loss efforts to be both ineffective and harmful for the heart and metabolism. I’m not willing to sacrifice my body to uphold sexist and fatphobic societal ideals.
Weight loss isn’t part of my resolution because I’m pregnant with my first child. It’s important to give my baby what it needs but also what it wants. So if baby wants stuffed shells and chocolate chip ice cream for dinner, so be it! How can I raise this child to love themselves and all they are if I’m staring into a mirror wistfully dreaming away the only body I have? Not possible. This body has bigger and better things to worry about in 2017 to give weight loss toxicity the time of day.
I’ve finally fallen in love with my body after years of disordered eating feeling beyond uncomfortable in my skin. My body is strong and amazing and beautiful just the way it is!
2016 was the year I joined the gym with the same hope I had with every yo-yo diet, fitness fad and health craze I had obsessively tried since I was in the 10th grade- I wanted to lose weight. I wanted to be skinny soooo bad. It was all consuming. It was all I ever thought about. I was so excited to start January 2017 with a “before and after” picture showing how skinny I had finally gotten. Here we are a year later! Am I super skinny? NOPE. Have a lost of ton of weight? NOPE. Am I sad? NOPE NOPE. Am I looking at 2017 with the goal of getting skinny or trying to lose weight? NO! Am I the happiest I’ve been in years? YES. And finally. 2016, instead of getting skinny, I got healthy. Mentally and physically. The crippling hate I felt towards my body slowly turned into newfound appreciation for its stretch marks, it’s scars and most of all for its strength. The gym stopped being this place of pain where I punished myself for not looking like other girls. It became the place where I found an outlet for my stress and anxiety. A place where I came to love my broad shoulders, thick thighs and evolving stretch marks. In 2017, I will continue to view the gym as what has become a place of therapy for my depression and anxiety. It will be my place where I go when i am feeling down. It will be one of the many tools that help to remind me that my body rocks. It will be one of the many tools I have to help me deal with my mental health. I have come to love my body in a way I have never in all of my teens and as an adult. It is amazing and it’s beautiful and it is mine. In 2017, my crippling fear that people are judging me based on my thick thighs and broad shoulders will be replaced with excitement to share my worth with them. I am funny, smart and important. I am worthy. I am more than my anxiety, more than my cellulite and I am more than my fears In 2017, instead of losing weight, I’ll will work on remembering that I am strong, independent and worthy. So my resolution this year, it keep learning how to love myself and take care of myself. And I am so freaking excited.
For most of my life, I’ve had an exceptionally unhealthy idea of my weight representing my health— to say nothing of how I perceived beauty as thin and lithe and willowy and graceful... all of which I am not, have never been, and will never be. It took two bouts of serious unintentional weight loss to make me realize how deeply I held these beliefs. I would say “BEAUTIFUL AT EVERY SIZE” but weigh myself daily, hoping to lose just another pound or two. I knew I was being hypocritical and at some level; I just couldn’t move past what I *wanted* my relationship with my weight and my body to be and what my relationship *actually* was. The first time I lost a significant amount of weight, I was pregnant. My morning sickness was so severe that I was consuming probably under 400 calories a day— if I was lucky. I turned sallow and sickly and dropped 30 pounds in about a month and a half. I would sob, choking on crackers and trying to take a sip of a protein shake and keep it down, all so I could get nutrients into my body for the fetus. I was consumed with anxiety; all of my attention turned to the fact that I needed to eat— for my health and the health of my future child— even while my doctors reassured me that the baby would take what the baby needed and I would be the one who bore the aftereffects. So my hip bones started jutting out and I got a jawline I would have swooned over months ago, but all I could see in my weight loss was that I wasn’t good enough for my future child. And while I was carrying around all of this unnecessary, toxic guilt and anxiety, the outside world responded so strangely. Suddenly I was “striking” and “beautiful” and “so fit” and my friends and family told me how great I looked. But I didn’t look great. I looked sick as hell. Most people didn’t know I was pregnant at that point and looking back, I’m baffled at the fact that no one sat me down to ask me if I was doing okay, if I was surviving, if I was starving myself intentionally. One very long, very complicated pregnancy later, I had a beautiful child and so many stretch marks that I had a band of permanent loose skin around my stomach, making me look perpetually poochy and making me feel super self-conscious. I’ll spare the details here of how my stretch marks split my skin so viciously during pregnancy that they bled or how I spent hours looking at photos of women who “got their bodies back” after having children and wishing I could just be one of them without having that new skin stapled. I had slipped right back into that same mental divide: proclaiming one thing to the world about how I accepted myself and my body and then testing out how to best minimize the new reality of my physical existence. And I stayed there for a while, until I went in for two rounds of surgery earlier this year. The first round yielded an unknown complication that caused pain so excruciating that I could hardly sit up or eat; it went unchecked for ten days before they rushed me into the ER for a second round of emergency surgery to take care of the issue for good. During this time (and in the weeks that followed the second surgery), I threw up almost everything I ate. The combination of medication and extreme pain had me dry heaving constantly and I considered myself lucky on days that I could get down a protein shake or a smoothie. Once again, weight fell off— 25 pounds in three weeks. And when I was up and about, slowly using a walker to navigate my world in my once-again slightly-altered body, people applauded me. “How *DID* you do it?” “You look lovely!” “Maybe I should have this horribly painful surgery! *giggle giggle*” One woman squeezed at my waist— her fingers dug in over the bandage at my incision site and bile came up in my mouth. It didn’t matter that I told them it wasn’t intentional, that it wasn’t desired, that it was a byproduct of pain that so thoroughly wrecked my body that I still have nightmares about it. When I deadpanned that my “sought after” secret to weight loss was not eating anything and throwing up anyway from intense pain, other people went as far as to say that I was “lucky” I didn’t have to “work for it.” So for the second time in my life, my weight loss made me an admirable, beautiful woman... without my consent. And that, I think, made me more sickened than anything. I was furious that I had forgotten that this SAME EXACT SHIT had played out during my pregnancy— that I had let myself be suckered into believing that weight loss was the key to loveliness and happiness and health. My weight loss was never an indication of my health; it was a sure sign of how unwell I was both times. It was a neon billboard that broadcasted how malnourished and ill I was— how hard I was fighting, how far I was falling, how much I was failing to keep my body under my control. This is why weight loss is not one of my New Year’s Resolutions and is not one of my goals— and why it never will be again. Others considered me more beautiful and more worthy because I was literally unable to keep down food and keep my body healthy and I will never forget that. Seeing weight loss in and of itself as an achievement is a facade, masking the true beauty of working towards *actual* health and wellness— whatever that means for each individual.
Weight loss is not one of my New Year’s Resolutions because my life is worth more than that. For the first ten years of my life I felt like a pretty, loved child. But once puberty hit everything changed. Suddenly everything about me was “too big” I grew very self conscious. I tried to disappear and not bring too much attention to myself. I tried diets and weight loss. I starting binging and then hated myself a bit more after each episode. By the time I got to college, I was so grateful if any man paid attention to me that I would throw myself at them, even if I didn’t particularly like them. In fact, I often felt contempt for them. What sort of loser were they to like someone as fat and repulsive as me? This self hatred has continued for most of my life. And then one day I decided I needed more. That I was worth more. And though I’m not finished with my journey to self love, I have at least started down the right path. So no. No weight loss resolutions for me. My resolutions are to be kinder. To be more generous. To not hold on to the past. To accept love. Those things will make me a better person than any diet ever could.
Weight loss isn’t my resolution because for years it was the focus to look the way society wanted me to look. Now I pick a word to model my year after. This year I want to be fearless in everything I do, from running a marathon for the first time to building deeper relationships with those around me. It’s not about the size of my body but the size of the life I’m creating.
I am a personal trainer. I am no longer competing with other trainers to see who looks the most “cut.” I #moveforjoy instead and teach my clients to do the same. My education and experience are what matter, NOT the way I look.
Weight loss is not one of my New Year’s resolutions because I opt to spend my time focused on changing the world instead of changing my body. All of the energy that is usually invested in weight loss goals can be more fruitfully spent working toward social justice and equity, including the elimination of prejudice toward fat people. My vision for the future doesn’t involve a thinner me; it involves a more just and caring society.
Weight loss has never been one of my New Years resolutions! I love my fat body. I’m beautiful and the ideals that society has placed on beauty need to be rendered. I am trying to change that. One roll at a time!
Exercise has been inextricably bound to weight loss throughout my life, and therefore it always felt like a punishment. I hated moving, hated sweating, hated how it felt, hated the looks I got. In 2015 I started to think about movement for pleasure. It took me more than six months to mentally process the idea. I started moving. In 2016 I unpicked 20+ years of negative associations around exercise. I learned that I love to walk, swim and do yoga on my own terms and with my own goals. In 2017 I am the fattest, happiest and most active I’ve ever been. This year I’ve set the goals, not society. There’s no space in the world I’m making for weight loss.
Weight loss is not holistic to my health and happiness. Instead of focusing on weight and the societal constructs that frame it, I’m focusing on behaviors that make me feel like a competent and creative entire person. My goals are diverse and varied for 2017. They include daily practices for mental and physical health, travel, sustaining important relationships, progressing in grad school, working on professional development and engaging in safe community building for everyone.
The way I ate in the past resembled yo-yo dieting and I believe that led me to develop a chronic illness leading to unintentional weight loss and the worst health of my life. I’m done trying to “lose weight.” Absolutely done. Weight Loss does NOT mean “Health.”
Weight loss is not one of my resolutions because I have more important things to focus on. I’d rather spend my time working to be strong, silly, and joyful. I can’t be those things if I’m focused on the numbers on a scale or on a tag in my clothes.
Weight loss is not one of my New Year’s resolutions because I refuse to be limited by the number on the scale. I am finally at a place in my life where I accept myself for who I am and frankly, that is more important than anything else!
Weight loss is not one of my New Year’s resolutions this year because I am just starting to learn how to respect, love, and take care of myself. This includes trying to keep the voices in my head positive and loving instead of condemning and hateful. (The latter being my only experience in any type of previous weight loss approach.) I don’t want my happiness, self-worth, or “success” to be dependent on my weight or any other physical attribute. I want to love myself and others for who we are and where we are.And I want to thank you, Cat and everyone who has contributed to this project. It has been a light for me in a time of learning to love and accept myself. ”The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” -Joseph Campbell ...(NOT who society thinks we should be, wants us to be, or tells us to be!)
Because I want legs that will take me places and get shit done. Skinny thighs won’t last 100k.
“yousee your faceyousee a flaw. how. if you are the only one who has this face. - the beauty construct”Poem by:nayyirah wahaadI am finally starting to understand that I am the only me and because of this I am perfect. There is no competition or standard I need to meet when it comes to weight loss or beauty.
Focusing on weight loss damages my mental, emotional, and spiritual wellness, and I’m no longer willing to inflict that kind of suffering on myself.
I realized I’m strong, cute, smart and funny. What more could I ask for?