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Month: August 2017

You Can’t Tell Me What To Do!

You Can’t Tell Me What To Do!

You know the phrase “terrible twos”, right? It’s around age two when children seem to have a fondness for the word “no” and are prone to throwing tantrums. During this time, they are exploring self-sufficiency and free will with the ultimate goal of autonomy.1 In general, people want to be autonomous, meaning they want independence and will naturally resist being controlled by others or outside forces. This idea ended up playing a huge role in the path I took when trying to overcome my disordered eating as well as in my professional life.

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It’s All Just Body-Shaming!

It’s All Just Body-Shaming!

Fat-shaming is a hot topic right now, but I recently read an article about how skinny shaming is an issue too. Although the article was well written, there was a barrage of negative comments about how skinny-shaming is no where near the same as fat-shaming. I actually agree with this. The social stigma with being fat does not compare to that of being skinny. But this leads me to the bigger question of why is body-shaming in any capacity acceptable?

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Good (Or Not-So-Good) Intentions of Others

Good (Or Not-So-Good) Intentions of Others

I recently watched an old episode of “Weeds” and there was a scene where Celia is watching her daughter, Isabelle, play a soccer game. Isabelle runs over to her mother to celebrate a good kick and Celia pats her stomach and says “I want to see more running out there, Isabelly. That’s what burns the fat!” Though the early seasons of Weeds has many great scenes, this one hit close to home given my history with body image issues. When I first saw this scene, I wondered if Celia was trying to motivate Isabelle to lose weight for her sake, her daughter’s sake, or if Celia had an altogether different intention.

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Back Off Man, I’m an Intuitive Eater!

Back Off Man, I’m an Intuitive Eater!

I have a weird relationship with apple pie. It smells great when it’s fresh out of the oven, but it doesn’t taste as good as it smells.1 I kindly tell people this when they offer me a slice. Most look at me like I’m bonkers and bewilderedly shake their heads before moving on. Every now and then I’ll come across someone who insists that I eat the pie. I politely yet firmly refuse again. Most take the hint, but some keep urging me to eat. I hate being in this predicament because I don’t want to eat the pie, but I also don’t want to be completely rude to my host.

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