one morning last week, while on a business trip, i watched Live with Regis and Kelly (if you don't know, it's a typical morning chat show). Country music star Reba McIntyre was the first guest. I've met Reba McIntyre, and she's pretty tiny. But she was at least twice the size of the morning show's host, Kelly Ripa. In the last few years, Kelly (hope she doesn't mind the familiarity) has gotten thinner and thinner. She's full of energy and good cheer, so i assume she's healthy, but she looks really, really thin.
there i sat in my hotel room, wishing i were Kelly's size.
what is that about?
if Russian peasant stock me were Kelly Ripa's size, i'd seriously need hospitalization, as i wouldn't have been eating for months. She's a very pretty woman, but whenever my fiance sees her on TV, he says it's painful to look at her -- she's "scarey" skinny. (sorry kelly. this isn't about you.)
to summarize - for me to be her size, i'd have to be very, very sick AND my own fiance would think i looked scarey. (currently, he tells me i'm beautiful the minute i wake up. okay, so he must like smeared mascara and alfafa hair, but he's entitled to his opinion.)
after all the work i've done getting my mind and body healthy, why would i want to be painfully thin?
my teeny, weeny type A sister just got a colonoscopy. after the laxative part of the pre-op prep, she complained that she lost a few pounds she really didn't need to lose.
as i commiserated with her over her sad little weight loss, my little green ED monster bit it's tongue.
i've gained a few pounds, after a weekend of fun with family. it's fine. i know i'll go back to my usual eating and weigh whatever i usually weigh. i'm healthy at this weight. i have energy, i'm not weak or dizzy from hunger. i'm not stuffed from stuffing down feelings with food. when i go to the store, there's a nice assortment of clothes that fit well. no one tells me i look too thin; no one suggests i could stand to lose a few.
but in the secret dark recesses of my devilish brain, if i could, i'd switch for Kelly Ripa's body.
there. i've said it, but i won't accept that this is my final destination thinking. i'm trying to get my 14 year old niece to accept her thighs. i pray her friend will stop purging the little she eats (in search of kelly ripa's body?) i take my 20 year-old niece shopping at Lane Bryant and help her enjoy all the cute clothes in her size. we had such happy days finding a new wardrobe. each time she repeatedly dissed her body -- i told her she looked beautiful, and she did.
i believe i'm forgetting someone. me. how can i be my own aunt?