I read a lot of magazines. It’s a sickness really. But my real weakness is that every time I see one of those weight-loss success stories (I lost 90 lbs in 3 weeks!), I go straight for the numbers. Chicken breast…blah, blah,blah… exercise…blah, blah, blah… alien abduction… blah… height: 5’11”. AHA! I need to find their height, see, because they always post weight or pounds lost at the top next to the “after” shot and taken together I can do a quickie mental calculation and figure out the poor woman’s BMI. Not that that is a measure of health. Not that it should even mean anything to me. Except that it does.
I look at them and think, “Okay, that’s where they are happy, where they are healthy and where society finally tells them they are good.” And then I wonder, “Is that what I look like?” It doesn’t matter how different than me they are – older, smarter, stronger, shorter, alien, whatever – I must compare before I can read any further into the article.
It’s awful, I know. A while back, Leslie of The Weighting Game posted about the phenomenon of “body checking” – the practice of checking things on one’s body that one is particularly insecure about to the point it borders on OCD (I wish I could give you the link but I couldn’t find a search function on her blog). I think this is my twisted permutation of that.
Anyone else do this??