Chapter I - Do I Actually Give A F@!k?
Do I Give A F@!k?
I've never thought of losing weight as an option.
Being as lean, muscular and devoid of anything that could even be thought of as fat always seems to have been one of those imperatives - things that we have to do - that it has always seemed to me to be the same as asking "do I actually have to breathe"?
And I guess, in strictly non-medical terms, there is no "need" to lose weight. And if you're happy in who you are, then why would you?
This wonderful message that two young people who are so obviously in love with each other for who they are, and to the extent that they are so committed to this that they have become distanced from Sean's father as a result, strikes me as positive proof that there's no need to be thin; you just need to be happy in your own skin.
And it's not just about finding happiness in each other either. Being so content in yourself is also about not caring about what other people think.
Amalie quite happily goes about her life, getting married, shopping for clothes, walking down the street with husband Sean. This guy doesn't care so much, he makes a living out of making jokes out of his size. His nickname is even his self-invented euphemism for being fat:
So then, is the question really about "do I give a f@!k", or more about the two questions "am I happy as I am?" and "do I care what other people think?".
The logical conclusion, I guess, is that if the answer to either or both of those questions is "yes", then I do give a f@!k. And don't try to hide behind "maybe" or "I think so" - in this case that has to be the same as a "yes".
Do I Care What Other People Think?
I wish I didn't. God, how I wish I didn't. It seems such a painfully unconfident thing to think, which is why it's maybe difficult to admit to, or even shameful.
But I do care. And I know I do.
When I walk down the street, I sometimes find myself wondering if people know that I'm on a weight loss mission, and not gaining weight.
Trying to get ready to go out, I will try several different costumes on in an attempt to hide my belly.
At work, if I cave in and end up eating something unhealthy, I sit there looking into people's faces just waiting to see the judgement in their eyes.
I can't remember what it's like to not think about losing weight.
Obviously, that's not enough to motivate me to exercise more, eat less or eat more healthily - and I don't think it is for anyone. That may be part of the reason, but external motivations will only take you so far.
Joining the Navy was an external motivation for me - and that didn't work at all.
The real motivation has to come from you. From deep within. You need to find your "why".
Am I Happy As I Am?
No.
As if worrying about other people judging me isn't enough, I just don't like looking at photos or videos of myself. In fact, there's a gap of about 4 years or more after I left university where there are very few images of myself anywhere - I preferred to be the one behind the camera rather than in front of it - because it meant nobody could see what I looked like. Especially me.
Continuously I find myself looking at pictures of myself, or in the mirror, or in a shop window reflection, and thinking "Christ, you're the sperm that got through?! I'm the result of the winner of the 100 million sperm race? Thank God I don't have any kids!"
Then, joining a Rugby Club a year ago also showed me that I'm not as fit as I was tricking myself into thinking. I would (and still do) keep tensing my stomach muscles, and pushing through layers of fat, to tell myself "well, there's some strong muscle under there, so I can't be that fat" or "that out of shape". Trying to play 80 minutes of rugby showed me just how wrong I was about that.
Don't get me wrong, I don't walk around in a constant state of doom and gloom, bursting into tears every time I see myself reflected in a car door, but I'm just not happy as I am.
So do I give a f@!k? Turns out yes, yes I do.
I've never thought of losing weight as an option.
Being as lean, muscular and devoid of anything that could even be thought of as fat always seems to have been one of those imperatives - things that we have to do - that it has always seemed to me to be the same as asking "do I actually have to breathe"?
And I guess, in strictly non-medical terms, there is no "need" to lose weight. And if you're happy in who you are, then why would you?
This wonderful message that two young people who are so obviously in love with each other for who they are, and to the extent that they are so committed to this that they have become distanced from Sean's father as a result, strikes me as positive proof that there's no need to be thin; you just need to be happy in your own skin.
"There's no need to be thin; you just need to be happy in your own skin"
And it's not just about finding happiness in each other either. Being so content in yourself is also about not caring about what other people think.
Amalie quite happily goes about her life, getting married, shopping for clothes, walking down the street with husband Sean. This guy doesn't care so much, he makes a living out of making jokes out of his size. His nickname is even his self-invented euphemism for being fat:
Gabriel Iglesias (aka "Fluffy") in his 2009 "I'm Not Fat, I'm Fluffy" Comedy Central Special
So then, is the question really about "do I give a f@!k", or more about the two questions "am I happy as I am?" and "do I care what other people think?".
The logical conclusion, I guess, is that if the answer to either or both of those questions is "yes", then I do give a f@!k. And don't try to hide behind "maybe" or "I think so" - in this case that has to be the same as a "yes".
Do I Care What Other People Think?
I wish I didn't. God, how I wish I didn't. It seems such a painfully unconfident thing to think, which is why it's maybe difficult to admit to, or even shameful.
But I do care. And I know I do.
When I walk down the street, I sometimes find myself wondering if people know that I'm on a weight loss mission, and not gaining weight.
Trying to get ready to go out, I will try several different costumes on in an attempt to hide my belly.
At work, if I cave in and end up eating something unhealthy, I sit there looking into people's faces just waiting to see the judgement in their eyes.
I can't remember what it's like to not think about losing weight.
Obviously, that's not enough to motivate me to exercise more, eat less or eat more healthily - and I don't think it is for anyone. That may be part of the reason, but external motivations will only take you so far.
Joining the Navy was an external motivation for me - and that didn't work at all.
The real motivation has to come from you. From deep within. You need to find your "why".
Am I Happy As I Am?
No.
As if worrying about other people judging me isn't enough, I just don't like looking at photos or videos of myself. In fact, there's a gap of about 4 years or more after I left university where there are very few images of myself anywhere - I preferred to be the one behind the camera rather than in front of it - because it meant nobody could see what I looked like. Especially me.
Continuously I find myself looking at pictures of myself, or in the mirror, or in a shop window reflection, and thinking "Christ, you're the sperm that got through?! I'm the result of the winner of the 100 million sperm race? Thank God I don't have any kids!"
Then, joining a Rugby Club a year ago also showed me that I'm not as fit as I was tricking myself into thinking. I would (and still do) keep tensing my stomach muscles, and pushing through layers of fat, to tell myself "well, there's some strong muscle under there, so I can't be that fat" or "that out of shape". Trying to play 80 minutes of rugby showed me just how wrong I was about that.
Don't get me wrong, I don't walk around in a constant state of doom and gloom, bursting into tears every time I see myself reflected in a car door, but I'm just not happy as I am.
So do I give a f@!k? Turns out yes, yes I do.
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