i just stumbled across a surprisingly thoughtful discussion of the matter of fat acceptance, in hugo schwyzer’s blog. an excerpt:
I’ve struggled for years and years with addictive eating habits and compulsive exercising. I do spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about my body and seeking to control it. Yet my neuroses are sanctioned and rewarded by the culture because they lead me to have a body that more closely approximates a contemporary ideal. I frequently have responded to stress by exercising until I’m too tired to think. (I’ve gotten better at that over the years). Others I know respond to similar levels of stress by eating and eating. My body bears the signs of my neuroses, so do the bodies of my “fat” friends and family. They get heavier; I get a resting heart rate of 42 – which is nice, but I also get deteriorating knees and aching joints. I’m not at all convinced that my approach is, ultimately, any emotionally healthier than theirs, but I do receive considerably more praise for it.
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