Fat and Pretty

I can get distracted sometimes

2010-08-03T09:58:00.002-07:00

I totally forgot to actually publish the link to my new blog. It's http://catalyticreactions.blogspot.com. Enjoy!

Moving forward, making bonds and making heat.

2010-07-30T10:35:00.001-07:00

Hey all,

I'm not sure who follows this anymore, but I decided to start blogging again (after getting married, deciding to drop out of grad school, deciding to go back to grad school, and then taking my qualifying exams), but I also decided that, as important as fat acceptance is to me, there are other topics of importance as well, like feminism, anti-racism, Judaism, and science. And I want to write about them and how they intersect. So I started a new blog called "Catalytic Reactions." There are a few posts up there already. Enjoy!

Makin' Babies

2010-01-07T09:45:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about babies a lot recently, for a number of reasons.

1. I just saw the quite interesting documentary "The Business of Being Born".

2. There's a phenomenon that, soon after you get married, people start asking about the kids. Forgetting that I'm in grad school. Forgetting that I'm freaking 23 and just started being able to take care of MYSELF, let alone a child. Ignoring that it's generally not best for the relationship to jump into baby-making straight away. People continue to tell me that we should really get on the baby making. Ugh.

3. I'm being treated for PCOS, which of course makes me consistently wonder/worry about my reproductive health and fertility. (TMI: at this point it's been 6 months since I've menstruated without hormones. This frightens the bejeebuz out of me.)

4. These posts on feminism and reproductive rights have sparked more thoughts on the subject of people discouraged from giving birth.

So I find myself in conflict. On the one hand, I've just gotten married, so clearly I should be OBSESSED with having babies. On the other hand, I've got PCOS, which makes me an undesirable who should clearly not be having kids. Especially given the genetic component of PCOS. On the other hand, one of the main problems with PCOS is loss of fertility, and treatment is often focused on regaining fertility. I, personally, would be incredibly happy to return to a normal menstrual cycle, particularly so I stop having pregnancy scares. Oh, and PCOS also can increase fatness, adding an additional undesirable parental quality, by society's standards.

At the end of the day, I find myself returning to a few main points:

1. The choice to have children is incredibly personal. You have no right to tell me whether or not to have children. It's my choice, one way or the other.

2. One quality or another does not make somebody selfish for having children. Me, my mother, and my grandmother have all led successful, happy lives as fat women with PCOS. If I have a daughter who has PCOS, I'm sure she will also live a successful, happy life. Same goes for parents who are poor or disabled or some other quality that people dislike.

3. Forced sterilization is NOT OK. Period. In the comments on Kate Harding's article linked above, so many people are claiming, "Well, she did want birth control. And she got it. What's the big deal." Let me tell you that I am on birth control and love it and would SO not be off it right now, but the thought of not being able to have kids ever is really scary. And I haven't even had an invasive procedure done without my consent. The only time I can see forced sterilization being acceptable at all, would be in the case of a repeat rapist, but that would probably fall under cruel and unusual punishment.

4. People moaning and groaning about welfare costs really piss me off. We pay for so many other things that are so much more expensive. Idea: incentivise birth control over having more children for people on welfare. (This is probably already done, though I don't know and am too lazy to do the research) And not just condoms which are annoying and can be used incorrectly. I am a HUGE proponent of IUDs, which have very low failure risks, are cheap in the long run, and have very low risk of user error. The ring could also be a good method. Really, anything that doesn't require frequent use would probably be good (i.e. not condoms or daily pills). Also, support a living wage so people are less likely to go on welfare in the first place.

5. Dogmatic (emphasis on dogmatic) anti-baby people really piss me off too. If you don't want to have kids, that's great. But please don't shame me for my choice to have children. Y'know, if I actually can. I remember a conversation I was having with a friend where she went on and on about how people with fertility problems should just adopt (like it's tots easy, right?) and are really selfish for seeking fertility treatments. At which point I told her that I was a fertility treatment baby and, oh yeah, I probably will have fertility problems. Seriously people, think before you talk. This is different from my friends who don't want to have children, are public about it, and still are supportive of friends and acquaintances to do.

In short, let people make their own choices, and don't be a dogmatic jackass.

But what about the thin girls?

2009-08-12T20:21:00.001-07:00

Oh, the thin ladies. This has been a point of discussion in a couple places recently, so I decided to throw in my $0.03. Gotta take inflation into account, dontcha know?

When I'm at my most energized, when I'm having a great day, when I'm ready to take the bull by the horns and logic it to death, then I talk about fat acceptance. When I'm feeling tired, and I'm having a crappy day, and I can barely manage to throw a QED at the bull, then I talk about body acceptance. You see, body acceptance is palatable to a lot of people already, at least the beginnings of it. To say, "hey, my body's ok!" is something that we've all heard for a very long time. And, because "fat" isn't in the name, it doesn't force people to think about those other bodies. You know the ones. And even though they're talking to me, a fat woman (~230 lbs, for context), for some reason it's still easy to ignore other fat bodies. Maybe they're just so blown away by my awesome that they think "of course we should accept Shoshie's body. She's just so damn shmexy!" I mean, it's totally possible.

But the same people who smile, nod, and let me ramble about body acceptance, start to get forhead wrinkles if I say the same things, but call it fat acceptance. Because now they've got a headless fatty mind invasion. They're not thinking of me, their good 'ol fat pal who they know takes dance lessons and buys into a farm share and goes on hikes with them. Now they're thinking of Homer Simpson in a muumuu eating donuts. That they have a bit more trouble smiling along with.

But here's the thing. Most fat people AREN'T Homer Simpson in a muumuu. And while we do need overall body acceptance, fat acceptance fills a different need. Average-to-thin sized women complain about not being able to find clothing that fits well. But fat women can't find clothing to even try on. Everyone is being told to trim down here and wear these clothes and your eyelashes are too short why don't you have longer eyelashes! But fat women are told that everything is wrong. You can't even partition your body into acceptable parts and innacceptable parts because the whole thing is wrong. And thin people will never be denied a job or an airplane seat because of their size.

Don't get me wrong, people are harassed for being thin. And it sucks and it's wrong. No one's voice should be marginalized. But the fact is, that for every person telling a thin woman to eat a sandwich, there's a million other sources telling her that she is the ideal. And that it would be the worst thing in the world if that were ever to change. For ever insensitive asshole who jokes about bulimia, there's 10 more who encourage thinness, and not just other insensitive assholes, but parents, doctors, teachers, mentors. They'll mask it by saying it's for health, and they don't want the person to be REALLY thin, just an "ideal weight." However, that so-called ideal weight is just as unatainnable as any picture of a supermodel.

Seriously. Really truely. And to be told your whole life by, not only the popular media, but by doctors and friends and parents and people you really trust that this is the body for you and you have failed by not getting there yet and you will always fail and you are a failure daring to sit there and watch tv or enjoy food even for a moment...

Well, that's just not something that thin people have to deal with very often. If they do, it's called abuse. But it is a very common experience for fat people. And if it doesn't happen, well then it's sometimes called abuse or neglect. That is where the fat experience differs and why we absolutely need a fat acceptance movement, maybe alongside a general body acceptance movement.

So what can you do if you're thin and you want to help fight the good fight?
1. Acknowledge your privelege. Acknowledge that, while things may suck for you on the body positivity front, if you weighed 100 lbs more things would be much, much harder. Don't believe me? How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow weighing that 100 lbs more? How would your life change? Would you feel angry? Would you feel cheated? Would you feel ashamed? What if you had a class reunion next week. Would you go?

2. Speak out against fat hatred. Jokes about fat people aren't funny, just like jokes about Jews, or people of color, or little people, or women, or people with disabilities aren't funny. Call people out on their bullshit. It's sad, but it'll mean more to them if it comes from you than if it comes from a fat person.

3. Be senstive when shopping or discussing clothing with fat friends. Go into plus size stores with them and tell them they look fabulous. Note: only do this if they've told you that they shop in plus size stores. Some people are really sensitive about that. I used to lie about where I got my clothing.

4. Don't make assumptions. About anyone. Don't assume that your fat friends are sedentary or eat unhealthfully. If they do, don't badger them about it. They're probably aware.

5. If a fat friend is complaining that she can't find anything to wear, or she's so fed up about our thin culture, don't get defensive, don't make it about you. Don't try to relate to her by saying that you also have such a hard time finding clothing and you totally don't look like a supermodel either. It's not the same, and you know it. Listen to her. Let her cry on your shoulder or rant or whatever she needs, and then tell her that she's awesome.

These aren't all easy things, but they're important. If you want to be an ally, that's wonderful! But please please PLEASE listen to what people have to say, first and foremost. If you haven't lived in a fat body, then you have a lot to learn about that experience. Please try to do that learning before getting annoyed or defensive. And if you want to talk about how hard it is to be a thin person in America, well, blogger accounts are free.

Oh, how I love the Onion

2009-07-27T09:32:00.000-07:00

I know I've been a bad, bad fatty and haven't updated in way too long, but I just had to share this gem of an article:

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/study_abstinence_only_lunch?utm_source=facebook_1

Hopefully I'll have a more substantial post at some point, but for now enjoy the hilarity.

Speaking to My Father: A success story

2009-06-10T08:38:00.000-07:00

I've always been a daddy's girl. I couldn't tell you why. I love my mom, but we always fought a lot. Again, couldn't tell you why. However, the one area where I continually sided with my mom over the years was weight. I inherited my mother's body type. Going back as far as I can tell, women in her family are strong, Eastern European matriarchs, built for surviving famine and bearing children. My mom and I went to Weight Watchers together. We did South Beach Diet together. We braved shopping malls together. I think it hurt her to see me suffer through the same humiliations during those shopping trips that she had. She wanted me to be thin, because she knew how hard it was not to be. My brother is also built like my mother's family. He's not fat, but solid and broad. Like I'm told my grandfather was.

My dad is the opposite. He was a thin child who ran cross-country in high school and grew up to be a thin adult. He'll deny it, pointing the the small paunch that he developed during middle age, but nonetheless he's still very thin.

When my brother and I were growing up, my dad was the biggest proponent of diets and exercise. He'd often bemoan that we inherited my mother's genes instead of his. He was never abusive or shaming, but would clearly be disappointed when I inevitably gained weight back after stopping a diet. Every semester when I came back from college, within the first hour or two of arriving there would be some comment (positive or negative) about my weight. It was something important to him. So I was worried about what he'd think when I told him that I was no longer dieting.

It didn't come up intentionally. He's way more interested in exercise than my mother is, so I usually share my exercise exploits with him. My fiance and I went kayaking on Sunday for two hours. We're starting to exercise together, and I'm teaching him how to weight lift.

"You know," he said, "I read recently that weight training doesn't actually raise your metabolism. Maybe you want to try something else."

So I explained some stuff to him. I explained that I don't do it to lose weight. I explained that I love feeling my body get stronger. I explained that it helps my tendonitis and my back. I explained that it's fun. And I explained why I don't care that it may not raise your metabolism. I don't diet any more, I told him.

He was confused, at first. And concerned. So I explained some more. I cited studies that diets don't work. I reminded him how much I'd tried and how little it worked. I told him about trying to cut out all-but-homemade sweets (both fiance and I have family history of diabetes and would like to keep it as history, but we LOVE baking) and buying a farm share for the season to make sure we're getting enough vegetables (also cheap-ish and local and organic!). I told him about hiking in the mountains and possibly buying a kayak (WANT). And I told him that my doctors say I'm healthy. Low blood pressure, low cholesterol, normal blood glucose (despite a maybe-kinda-possible diagnosis of PCOS).

He listened. And he agreed. Even conceded that Mom had better health stats than he did, so maybe I'm right and a lot of this stuff is genetic.

"All I care about is that you're healthy and happy, and you seem to be both of those. Love you, Shanni."

"I love you too, Dad."

Fun with BMI calculators

2009-05-15T10:22:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't used a BMI calculator in forever, but I decided to futz around with one today, just for the hell of it.

To put my weight in context, I frequently takes walks upwards of 3 miles, often upwards of 5. The limiting factor in my walks seems to be shoe comfort and chafing, if I'm wearing a skirt. If I'm wearing comfortable shoes and jeans, I haven't yet met my walking limit (in a single time period), but it's somewhere past 8 miles. I do suck at walking up hills and stairs, but I get myself around. A hill certainly hasn't stopped me from my urban hiking. :)

I wear about a size 20, give or take.

My blood pressure is in the normal range. My cholesterol is low.

Now for the punchline: I currently weigh anywhere between 235 and 245. I don't own a scale, but I'm pretty sure it's somewhere around there. I am a towering 5'2.5". This puts me at a bmi of *drumroll* 43.2. Approximately. I am officially DEATHFAT.

I think that would make a good superhero name.

Yes, according to the bmi calculator, I'm going to keel over tomorrow. So then I had a thought. Well, I haven't been at this weight very long. For various reasons (grad school, moving, fiance is lazy and his laziness crawls onto me and sits in my lap thereby preventing me from getting off my fat ass and making as healthful food as I would like or exercising as much as I should not that I'm pointing fingers...) I have gained about 10 lbs since I moved to Seattle. My weight was consistently 220-225 for my junior and senior years of college. It was also this amount before I started a whole bunch of diets and then gained back all the weight.

Go go BMI calculator: 39.6

Hey! No longer DEATHFAT. Under a BMI of 40 I was merely SEVERLY obese, not MORBIDLY obese. Well then. I'd like to point out that during this time I was a VERY active college student with a job in a synthetic chemistry lab which required me to be up and about constantly. Every day. I didn't do the same level of LONG walking then as I do now, but I was walking everywhere because there were no buses and I had no car. Hmm. Ok.

Well, what about at my thinest, I wonder. In high school, I went on a bunch of diets. I did weight watchers and lost 18 lbs. I went on South Beach diet and lost about 40. In about 4 months. Aieeek. So, at my thinest I was 170 lbs. I wore a size 14 in jeans and, depending on the cut, could often fit into a size 12. In pictures from my senior year I look healthy (even though I was skating the edge of an eating disorder) and, though not skinny, not particularly fat.

Let's check out the BMI calculator's opinion: 30.6

Still obese. Had I dropped a mere four lbs lower, I would have traversed the boundary from obese to merely overweight.

It seems so silly. So incredibly ridiculous. I walk more than I did in high school. I certainly eat better. I'm happier and more organized. I have my shit together way better now than I did in high school. But in high school I was almost not obese.

I'm not entirely sure what the point of this was. Does it have one at all? I feel like there should be some major change in my life, since I went from severly obese to morbidly obese. Start the sirens, this is one big girl. But really all I want is a cape with the initials DF. Oh, and to maybe not be told that I'm going to cack it tomorrow when I'm clearly not.

Unless a certain car of evil that almost hit me last week decides to run another red light when I'm in the crosswalk. Freakin' SUVs.

A Scary Part About Getting Married

2009-03-22T05:51:00.000-07:00

I don't think I've mentioned on here, but the boy and I decided a couple months ago to get married. It was kind of a cool feministy proposal in that it kind of wasn't a proposal. He just said, hey, what do you think about getting married? And I said, yeah, that would be pretty cool. We talked about why and where and various details...and then that was it. We were engaged. Sweet.

So now I'm a bride-to-be, which is weird. And of course, the entire world thinks that the most important part of the wedding is how the bride looks. I'm so jealous of the future Mr. Shoshie and his simple, traditional kitel. Part of me wants to wear one too. 'Cause that would be feministy and stuff. Part of me is a fashionista and wants to wear something really awesome, because I can! Whoo! I can afford spiffy clothing! Yay! So, yes. I'm looking for a pretty dress. Which is actually really hard because the wedding fashion industry admits that fat brides exist, but only kinda and only if they're willing to try to fit into size 8 sample gowns in order to find THE DRESS (cue music). So I was reading some articles looking for tips on what kinds of dresses could look good on a chubby chica such as myself, and I stumbled on this beauty.

It frustrated me for a bunch of reasons. It gave the same old tired hints that don't actually work.

Hey guys! Wear empire waists! You can hide everything. Except your boobs. Never hide your boobs, because that's the only pretty part of your body.

Oh, except your face.

Don't wear fitted things, because we all know that you don't have a waist. At least not one anyone actually WANTS to see.

Don't have lots of details on your dress, even if you want to. It's about your face, silly. You have such a pretty face.

So now I am an angry fat bride. And I will get my revenge, by looking fabulous. And wearing a sweet dress that our family friend is making. And not growing out my hair because I like my short hair dammit. And damned if I'm trying to lose weight before the wedding.

Oh, and supposed plus size bride fashion experts? Empire waists make me look pregnant.

Stumbling Blocks

2009-02-23T08:06:00.000-08:00

Wellroundedtype2 just posted something about faith, asking how people thought their faith contributed to their own self-acceptance. As I've mentioned before (I think), I'm a Conservative Jew (with a big, not a little c). It's a pretty big part of my life. I keep kosher, I strictly observe the Sabbath (Shabbat) and holidays, and I'm active in my synagogue community. But I never once thought about how my fat acceptance worked with my faith or vice versa.

Thinking about it more, I can definitely find connections. Traditional Judaism puts a great level of respect on the past. That's a big part of my identity as a Conservative Jew. I believe that certain elements of the religions past may have become outdated, even harmful. The community is not put to shame if a woman gets up and leads the community. Because women are educated to the same level as men in our society, the same academic achievements can be expected and celebrated of both genders.

At the same time, one could argue that kashrut (Jewish dietary laws) is outmoded and clearly was a method of avoiding animals that often contained parasites or more bacteria. Now, we don't have the same problems, so those laws can be tossed out. However, Conservative Judaism says no, there is a level of respect we must give to the past. As long as it is not harmful to someone to keep kosher, the law should continue to be followed. And it is, even though women are now equal to men under Conservative Jewish law.

I think this respect for the past, struggling with it and playing with it, helped me to see past current standards of beauty. Things change, not always for the better. People who immediately discount "old" or "outdated" thinking miss something. So I clung to the notion that once-upon-a-time my body would not have been reviled. That got me through a lot, I think.

Jewish values also influence the way I live my life, mostly subconsciously. Ethical laws and statements have been quoted at me and by me so many times that there's no way they couldn't work their way into my day-to-day practices and notions of right and wrong. One oft-quoted bit of Torah states: "Don't taunt the deaf or place a stumbling block before the blind. Don't hate your friend in your heart." This has been interpreted broadly and I see it all the time in fat acceptance. Before I began accepting myself, I was blind and people were continually placing stumbling blocks in front of me. I was deaf and people were taunting me. I didn't know they were doing something wrong to me, but I suffered just the same. Because I had internalized so much fat hatred I agreed with them and took the stumbling blocks for helping hands, the taunts as praise or good intentions. I understand now that they weren't. Aren't.

And since I started educating myself and accepting my body, I've seen so much baseless hatred. Hatred of strangers and of friends. Jewish traditions says that this kind of hatred brought down the temple and led to exile. It's a terrible thing. And it is imperative that we fight it. Even though I'd never put words to it, my faith tells me to fight for my rights and fight against hatred. So I try. I've been pushing away stumbling blocks for over a year now. That's pretty cool.

Unknown burdens

2008-12-10T09:51:00.000-08:00

I recently started visiting a chiropractor for some back pain I was getting. I tried to ignore it for a while because I figured, hey, I'm a healthy 22 year old. Back pain should just resolve itself. Except it didn't, and I ended up getting woken up in the middle of the night on multiple occasions because of pain. Awesome.

So, I was wandering the Fremont Market a couple weeks ago and there was a chiropractor who was giving free evaluations. I figured that he may have some thoughts. As soon as I walked up to him he asked, "Wow...do you have back and shoulder pain?" I said, in fact I do. I've had this odd upper back pain the past few weeks and tendinitis in my shoulders for the past 5 years or so. He was really intrigued by the tendinitis and asked for a history, whether it had improved over the years (not really) and how it started/got diagnosed (no one knew/by some doctor who I can't remember). He gave me a certificate to come into his office for a full evaluation, which I did. He found that my upper spine is all out of wack, probably because of poor posture. In fact, this may be the original cause of the pain in my shoulders and elbows and why the doctors could never find a cause for "tendinitis." Worsening of the condition also explains the back pain. Cool. Even cooler, we're working a few times a week to get my spine back in alignment through physical therapy, which should stop the back pain and may cause lessening or complete remission of the pain in my shoulders.

Here's the punchline. I'm having a really hard time communicating whether or not pain is lessening because I've become so used to dealing with it. It's hard for me to tell what is normal muscle soreness because I'm working hard and what is caused by joints not working correctly.

Relating this to fat acceptance:
When I first started reading material on the movement, I remember thinking...wow. That's so true. And it shouldn't be. Wait, what? My brain had such a screwed up perception of my body and what it should be doing that I couldn't differentiate between normal eating habits and abnormal ones. Between crazy talk and non-crazy talk. They get so muddled that it's hard to separate the two.

So I basically had to perform realignment on my thinking (hah, see, it's a metaphor!) so I could differentiate between eating healthfully and disordered eating, exercising for physical and emotional health and compulsive overexercising to the detriment of my mental health. Just like maintaining good posture, this realignment is something I will need to continually work on to make sure that I don't fall back on bad habits. It's so easy to slouch. It's so easy to listen to the messages that say I am not allowed this food, I must be in constant motion, I'm not allowed to be happy. But, ultimately, slouching causes pain and problems, and it takes a whole lot of work to regain that lost ground. Especially when you can't remember what normal looks like.

"Disfigured"

2008-11-30T20:56:00.000-08:00

I'm 2/3 through the movie right now (thank you, Netflix) and I have a lot of mixed feelings towards it.

Things I like so far:

1. The fat sex scene. Portrays fat sexuality unapologetically and tastefully.
2. Clips of women from the fat acceptance group relating their experiences.
3. The fat walking group. Lydia (the fat girl), at the beginning of the movie, explains her discomfort at gyms and exercise classes. Thankfully, I have less discomfort than she does with being fat in public, but it gets tiring sometimes. Sometimes I think it would help if I knew there would be other fat people in exercise classes. Bellydance surely rocked when the two of us who were most experienced (minus the instructor) were also the chubbiest. Anyone in Seattle wanna invade a dance class or two?
4. The general concept. I think it's a good idea for a movie...but...there's something off about it. Which leads me to...

Things I don't like so far:

1. In the first scene of the movie, which takes place at a fat acceptance group meeting, the anorexic girl who walks in is more body accepting than the group leader! The way the group is run by this leader is a mockery of fat acceptance. It is the nightmare of all the people who scream "but what of the children?!" People who are ANTI-health. ANTI-thin people. This is dumb. This is just like all-too-common portrayal of feminism as hatred of men. GAH. It is one of my pet peeves.
2. Darcy, the anorexic girl, acts all wise and stuff at the beginning of the movie, and then decides to teach Lydia, the fat girl, how to be anorexic. She pushes really hard for people to acknowledge that it's an illness...and then gives in to this clearly perposterous request. Bwuh?
3. Someone mentioned this before, but no one can find an outlet for fat folks to have sex with each other in LA? Seriously?
4. Really, it seems to me like Glen Gers (writer/director) half-assed the research. Or didn't half-ass the research, but decided to toss some logic in a plot hole in order for (dun dun dun) drama. Guh.

In other news, I went to a doctor because of intermitent back pain, and he did not blame it on my weight. Huzzah!

Go vote!

2008-11-04T07:37:00.001-08:00

If you are a US citizen, go to your polling places today! Mail in absentee ballots! Do it! This is history in the making, and we all get to be a part of it. It still amazes me how many people don't vote for various reasons. There is no good reason not to vote. Even if you don't like the presidential candidates, there are local elections which may have even more impact on your life. Gubernatorial races, senatorial races, hell, school district races. They're all important. The election of a hard line Christian conservative woman to school board in my former school district led to the direct challenge of several important books to be taken out of the curriculum (Slaughterhouse Five, The Things They Carried, Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Awakening, and many others). This was not in the middle of Iowa or Alabama. This was in Cook County, IL, in a suburb of Chicago.

This stuff is important. I am personally excited to be on the West Coast this year, because the past several I have had to go to bed before many meaningful results came in. This was a sad side effect of being on the West Coast and having early class the next day. This year I am on the West Coast and have an afternoon class the next day. Whoo! Though I have to say that it would be nice to be in Chicago today should Obama win.

Who deserves health care?

2008-10-27T17:17:00.000-07:00

I just watched the movie Requiem for a Dream with my boyfriend. It was easily one of the more disturbing movies I've seen in my life (up there with Shawshank Redemption and Escape from Sobibor). For those who haven't seen it, it's a graphic depiction of 4 heroin addicts and their fall due to addiction. During the progression of the story, one of the characters becomes ill due to his drug habit. He goes to a hospital and, instead of receiving treatment for his condition, is sent to prison along with his friend who brought him.

Wow, scary stuff.

This movie rattled around in my head all night and most of today, so I looked up some discussions of it online, just to see what other people are thinking. One person asked the same question I was asking: Why didn't the doctor help that character? Isn't it illegal to report him to the police and deny treatment? What happened to "do no harm?" One of the responses blew me away, though I admit, did not shock me.

"The doctor would probably have rather tended to some real sick person, and not some junkie who brought this on himself."

Of course! Junkies aren't REAL sick people. They're junkies. They don't deserve medical treatment.

Enter the reason why America does not have universal health care. If you show a random person on the street a picture of a child with brain cancer, they will likely tell you that, yes, that child should be covered in some universal plan. But what about the junkies? The junkies! Your random person doesn't want to pay for their illness. The just brought it on themselves.

Lung cancer adopted a clear ribbon because sufferers and advocates label it the invisible cancer. It effects more people in America than any other cancer, and just receives less funding than others. Why? Because people believe that lung cancer patients brought it on themselves. I haven't looked up the numbers, but I wouldn't be surprised it skin cancer has a similar problem.

What does this have to do with fatness? Fatness isn't a disease, but a genetically determined characteristic, influenced by environmental factors. However, the vast majority of the American population believes that fatness (aka obesity) IS a disease. Not just any old disease, but one that was caused by the sufferer's own actions and lack of responsibility.

Okay, 2 issues to deal with.

1. Clearly this is not the case. Fatness is not a disease, and certainly not one caused by person action.* Except under extraordinary conditions, most thin people can't become fat and most fat people can't become thin. Fatness has been linked to certain medical conditions, however the exact relationship between them is unclear. Correlation and causation and the like. For fat people to be treated equally in the hospital and in the insurance agency, obesity needs to stop being treated as a disease. Sex, race, even height, are all factors in disease. However, no doctor would tell a patient to just stop being short. Or stop being male. That sounds ridiculous. Equally ridiculous is a doctor telling a patient to stop being fat.

2. It is ridiculous to decide health care based upon what we believe causes medical ailments and personal responsibility. Ridiculous. Every move we make in our lives holds certain inherent risk. We could fall down stairs. We could get hit by a bus while crossing a street. A reaction could explode in my face while I'm working in the lab. If such a thing should happen, I would HOPE that the doctor wouldn't say, "Well, her own fault for being a chemist. I'll go treat some real sick person." It is ridiculous to assign blame before giving treatment. Clearly I made the dumb decision by deciding to go into a dangerous lab science (seriously, who decides to go into chemistry?), but who's job is it to decide that my decision is more valid than someone else's dumb decision to go on birth control with a history of blood clots? Or cross the street against a light? Or smoke one too many cigarettes? Or have one too many drinks? Whose right is it to play God? Not the governments'. Not an insurance agency's. Not a bitter and irresponsible doctor's.

Sick people are sick people are sick people. It doesn't matter how they got that way. If you can't deal with that, don't go into medicine.

*I don't refer to cases of binge eating disorder or rare examples of people leading completely sedentary lives filled with twinkies and cheeseburgers. These are the exception rather than the rule and there are certainly thin people who live similar lives and stay thin or "normal weight," whatever that means. I'm so tired of straw fattie arguments.

Rediscovering Salad and the Gym

2008-10-07T13:59:00.000-07:00

Last year, my (Jewish) new year's resolution was not to diet. I succeeded. Go me. Even though I was tempted on several occasions, I did not once start a new plan to diet. I did not read a single diet book, even when I was living with my parents for a month (twice!)*.

However, I had to make a sacrifice there. I became so wrapped up in my determination not to diet, that I resisted anything that resembled thinking about my eating habits or exercising. Except bellydance, 'cause I love me some shimmies. But I think the key here is that I gave up jogging and weight lifting, which I did with regularity before, because I associated them with bad things. With my father urging me to go on diets and come running with him. With my Tae Kwon Do instructor telling me I was too fat to continue successfully in martial arts, so I needed to run more to lose weight. With my gym teachers in high school giving me D's for fitness because I couldn't run fast enough for them, even though I was injured. Even though I was one of the strongest girls in the class. Even though my endurance improved every semester and I had incredible flexibility for someone my size.

Going to the gym reminded me of those bouts of self-loathing where I read fitness books and got eager to resemble the before/after pictures. Only 1 year of this! Only 1 year of punishing my body and I'll be normal! Just you wait! Only 1 year of lifting 3 times a week and running 1-2 times every day. 1 year of no sweets. I can do it. Just watch me. Sure, I can go out to ice cream with you, but I won't get my own, I'll just have a bite of yours. No, I am hungry. I'm hungry all the time because I run 6 miles a day. I just can't eat it. Because then I'll remember that I'm denying myself something that I enjoy for the sake of being norm...I mean healthy. And then the world will end and I will remember that I hate who I am and what I look like.

So this year I have a new resolution. I am going to reclaim salad and the gym. I will avoid that doughnut (baby flavored) because my PCOS puts me at risk for diabetes, not because I want to lose weight. Will I say no doughnuts at all ever? No. Because I like doughnuts. But I shouldn't feel the need to grab a doughnut whenever I see one in order to declare loudly to myself that I'm not dieting. That is not good for my physical or mental health.

I am going to reclaim exercise. I just went to the gym at my university for the first time and I think I'm in love. It is so swanky. Each cardio machine has it's own television. With cable. Seriously. I watched the Colbert Report while running. So, for now, I am not going to plan my workout beyond showing up at the gym. Once I'm there, I can figure out what I want to do that day, be it squash or rock climbing or swimming or weight lifting or running while watching the Colbert Report. Or even just going into a studio, blasting some music, and jumping around. This time is for me. This is for me to get my energy out, pump up some endorfins, and enjoy living in my healthy body that works.

Because my body works. Wow. How cool is that?

But wait, we're not done. This is the right decision for me. I know, from experience, that I feel better when I cut my sugar intake and MOVE. I am a happier and healthier person. HOWEVER, I am not not not not not a better person.

Let's take a note out of Biden's book and repeat it. I am not a better person for eating fewer sweets and going to the gym.

This is not me being good, EXCEPT that I am treating myself well. This past year when I ate all the doughnuts I wanted and didn't go to the gym? Well, I was still being good. That's what I needed. Adaptation is the name of the game, and moving towards a value neutral paradigm of health, eating, and exercise.

That's my resolution for the world in this new year.

*My parents are both incredibly concerned with weight, my mother as a fat woman and my father as a thin man who buys into the diet mentality. But this is a story for another post.

Off topic/On topic

2008-10-03T15:33:00.000-07:00

Off topic:

I'm a chemist. I am focusing, specifically, on catalysis and energy research. I have also spent 2 summers working for the Environmental Protection Agency. Everyone keeps saying that Palin held her own in the debate, in part due to her knowledge of energy issues. Gonna say it loud and clear:

Sara Palin does not have an understanding of energy issues. At all. In any way.

That said, clean coal is not the be all and end all either. But seriously, "Drill, baby, drill?" Is this an energy policy or the name for a bad porno film?

On topic:

Speaking of sex, the other day I stumbled upon something that made me sad. I like to browse through wiki answers when I'm bored because they can be funny/informative. On question I clicked on was "What are some sex positions for fat people?"

Turns out the answer is "LOL."

Hah. Y'know, 'cause it's hilarious that fat people have sex.

Reading that felt like a punch to the stomach. And then I got angry. And then I got grateful, because I had the good sense to be angry and not depressed. For that, I thank fat acceptance. I know that I am sexy. I know that people want to have sex with me and don't find it funny to think of me naked. A few years ago seeing that may have triggered a new diet or a bout of self-hatred. Now, I just close the window and write about it. There's something incredibly cool about that.

Simmering

2008-09-08T17:50:00.000-07:00

Erg, I haven't updated in months. This is problematic and I apologize. I recently moved to Seattle and life has been crazy settling in. But hopefully I will have more time to post now that I have a permanent place to live/a set schedule.

One thing I've noticed is that it's damn hard to remain constant while, around you, everyone's trying to change and/or change you. I've had a couple pronounced encounters recently, one with my family, one with my doctor. I find this incredible. I am healthy. I have a good job, a good boyfriend, amazing friends. And yet...people want me to change. I don't understand.

Doctor first:

I recently got a checkup and, in another visit, a copper IUD inserted. I had considered it for a long time and it made sense for several reasons, including the fact that, since my PCOS has stabilized a couple years ago, I am really hesitant to go on hormones and throw it all out of wack again. (PCOS is short for polycystic ovarian syndrome. It is related in some way to fatness, though it hasn't been well-studied, so people are mostly unsure how this relationship works. The cause of symptoms is thought to be related to hormone levels.) At both appointments, my PCOS got brought up, generally in the context of losing weight. My primary physician brought up Weight Watchers. She brought up a couple of other diets too, though I assured her that I was not in the market. She didn't really seem to believe me. Of course I would want to lose weight. Of course I would want to change. Of course, she as a thin female doctor knew exactly how I lived my life and how I could change it to look more like her.

The gynecologist also seemed to want to change me. I had spoken with a couple different people at my health clinic about getting a copper IUD. It seemed to be a good idea considering my hesitation to go on hormones and my general failure at taking pills consistently. Seriously. I suck at it. Everything was set up for me to go through the often-painful insertion. I had taken a buttload of ibuprofen and my boyfriend was near his phone in case I needed a ride home. Until the gynecologist informed me that this was not the right form of birth control. Actually, I should on hormones. Why? Because of my PCOS. Which is clearly OUT OF CONTROL given my fairly regular periods and stable weight. Grar.

So the gynecologist touted hormonal birth control like it was the best thing ever. "It could even help you lose weight!" Again with the assumption that I want to lose weight. Change is good. Change should happen, even if it's not the change you want. I argued with this woman for ages until I started crying and she agreed to let me try the IUD. (Turns out that I'm an ideal candidate. My uterus adjusted beautifully and, because of the PCOS, my period didn't get that much heavier. Suck it, evil gynecologist.)

That next week, I went on vacation with my family. This is always an interesting experience since my family is VERY weight conscious. My mother is also a fat woman with PCOS. As is my grandmother. Possibly also my great grandmother, from what I can see of pictures. My grandmother has always been very weight conscious and my mother went on a crash diet at one point. At one point my grandmother offered to give me a new $500 wardrobe if I dropped 3 sizes. I was first put on a 1200 cal/day diet before I was in high school. I was in Weight Watchers before I stopped growing. So eating meals with my family always gives me a headache. I worry constantly about what I'm eating and how it looks to them because I know I'll get comments. Because they constantly commentate their meals. I remember a particular meal where my dad walked back with a piece of cake at dinner and proclaimed proudly "It's sugar free!" I didn't know what to say. Since I'm a chemist, fake sugar scares the hell out of me. Especially given how much of it I consumed while I was in high school. Ugh. Everything we ate that was fried or contained sugar or was rich and delicious there was some commentary. "I shouldn't be eating this" or "Well, I exercised a lot today, so it's ok." Stop justifying your food to me, people! I don't care! I DON'T CARE! STOP MAKING ME CARE!

Everyone's trying to change. Every person trying to pull away creates more of a vacuum that makes it even harder to stay grounded. And I want, more than anything, to stay grounded now that I'm in this place of loving my body. The Jewish month of Elul started last week. It's the last month of the year. It's a time to look backwards and assess how we've lived our lives. It's a time to look forward and figure out how we want to live our lives. I want to stay grounded. I don't want to fix what isn't broken. Life is too hard for that, and I don't have the energy to spare.

I can't take it anymore

2008-07-01T19:11:00.001-07:00

I decided that I'm going to print business cards (as someone on the fat feed mentioned briefly) that have anti-diet, fat positive sayings on them (or maybe saying, since I am a poor graduate student) and a link to the fat feed. I'm gonna hand them out to people when I overhear a pro-diet or body conscious conversation. Yes, I am a busybody. I ride the bus a lot, so I hear a lot of other people's conversations. I'm sure it'll mostly just annoy people, but if even a few people GET it, that's a beautiful thing. And the other people can just be pissed at me and go on with their day.

Moralizing our Diets

2008-06-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

A big part of fat acceptance, I think, is the idea that diets are value neutral. If I eat a cookie, it doesn't make me a bad person. Cookies aren't bad. Maybe they aren't the most healthful foods in the world, but they have no inherent moral value. Health can be a value one wants to achieve in life and people should have the option to do so. But they should also have the option to prioritize other things. I prioritize socialization, so I drink a couple beers with friends. I prioritize my sex drive, so I stay up late getting nookie. My liver may not be happy with the beers and my brains may be overtired from lack of sleep, but I picked my priorities. I haven't been bad and I haven't hurt anyone else by my decisions (assuming I don't have an STD). After going through so many diets over the years, I have a hard time detaching morality from food and exercise. But I think it is essential. Health at Every Size (HAES) is pushed a lot in the fat acceptance movement, and I think it's a great concept. However, the problem with HAES is that is doesn't encompass all of fat acceptance.

It's the same problem I have with biological explanations of non-heterosexuality. A few months ago, I started coming out as bisexual. Now, I'm a big believer in the Kinsey Scale, and I'll admit that I lean heterosexual. Meaning, I'm more likely to sexually want a guy than a girl. However, that doesn't mean I'm not attracted to girls as well. Because of my particular flavor of sexuality, I could choose to only screw around with guys. It wouldn't be so hard. Hell, it's what I've done my entire life. But I shouldn't have to. It doesn't matter whether or not my sexuality is a choice because it should be value neutral. In the same vein, food should be as well. It doesn't matter if I could choose to exercise or choose to always eat healthful foods or choose to be thin (let's pretend for a second that being fat is a choice). Because fattness and exercise and eating healthfully are all value neutral. Sure, my life could be easier if I was thin. Sure, I may feel better physically if I exercise and eat healthfully. I may live a longer life. But that is my decision to make, not anybody else's. My body. My time. My choice. And if I choose to work long hours in the lab, inhaling carcinogens, and that takes away my time to cook or jog, well, that's a decision that I've made and I'm allowed to make it for myself.

Today on Junkfood Science, there was a post about salt. Salt, we've always heard, is not good for you. It raises your blood pressure. Yada yada. Personally, I don't really like salt. Except in cheese. Mmmm...cheese. But that's about it. I could honestly live without it, for the most part, in exchange for other savory spices. I put garlic in EVERYTHING. And lots of other herbs and spices that make my cooking flavorful so I don't have to use salt. I just don't like it very much. I used to brush it off pretzels. Seriously.

Turns out, that salt may not be the devil's playfood. Y'know, next to sugar. And flour. Really all white things. Go over and read that post. It's pretty interesting.

Reading that post, I realized that I may not have come as far as I'd hoped in separating morality from food. I felt defensive, reading it. I felt annoyed. Here she was, taking one of the few things that I thought I was doing right with my diet, never mind that I would do it even if it wasn't healthy, never mind that it's really just taste preference, and telling me that I couldn't stand on my high horse because of it.

Now I know how the rest of the world feels when faced with fat acceptance. What, you mean that my biologically determined body type doesn't make me a morally superior being? We're back to accepting that fat is genetic, by the way. I see why people get defensive. But I also recognize that it's ridiculous. Here's to hoping that the rest of the world will figure that out sometime soon.

Read My Lily-White, Fat-Covered, Jiggly, Hips

2008-05-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

When I was 4, my parents enrolled me in ballet. I was a skinny little thing back then. I'm told that I was pretty good at it, my only problem being a lack of concentration and an unwillingness to practice. Who's shocked? I have no concentration now, and I'm 22. What hope did I have at 4? I started rapidly gaining weight some time when I was 5 or 6, but I continued dancing. I added tap to the mix. Unfortunately, my unwillingness to practice meant that I didn't do particularly well, so I stopped. At this point, I was a cute, chubby 6 or 7 year old, but I had dreams of flying, so I was enrolled in gymnastics. Which I sucked at. A lot. I stayed at the beginner level for years. Mostly I didn't care, but eventually I outgrew the beginning level, but was too fat to master the parallel bars and move on to the next highest level. So much for flying. So I quit gymnastics and was enrolled in Tae Kwon Do. I actually did pretty well at that. I loved the drills and sparring. Breaking boards was a new thrill. I loved the power of practicing a form with intention and grace. I moved quickly through the belts and got my black belt when I was a freshman in high school. At one point, the master in charge had instructed me that I needed to lose weight. And I hated him for it. At this point, multiple people had brought up my weight in multiple ways. I'd already been on a couple diets and hated tracking my food. I hated having to think so much about, what I perceived, everyone else thought about so little. It wasn't fair. I was just as good a black belt as any others.

About this time, the TKD school I was attending went rapidly downhill and I stopped going. So my only exposure to physical exercise was high school PE, which was cruel and basically told me I was worthless for 4 years. Sure, I may have been one of the more flexible girls. Certainly one of the strongest. And I had decent balance and hand-eye coordination thanks to tennis. But I couldn't run very fast, so I got C's every semester. I had nightmares of not being allowed to graduate because I hadn't run fast enough or far enough.

Then I went to college. I exercised in fits and starts. I lifted for a while. I ran for a while. I did both. I did neither. Every activity fair I saw the girls with their bead and coin-covered skirts, sexy bras, and colorful veils. I wanted to be one. I was so jealous. I remembered how much I loved dancing when I was little. But also remembered how much I sucked at it. This past year, my last year of college, I promised myself that I would try anything that I wanted to try. I couldn't pass anything up. So I joined the Brandeis University Bellydance Club. Surprise! I loved it.

I was by far the fattest girl in the room. Every other girl wore skin-tight tank tops. I had a baggy t-shirt. The instructor was so skinny, you could see her ribs. But the way she moved...wow! It was amazing. I wanted that. I wanted to isolate my muscles in that way. I wanted to shake. I wanted to undulate. And bounce. And shimmy. Aaaaand...I was terrible. We tried balancing exercises, and I fell over. I tried ribcage isolations, but my massive hips insisted on following them. And you know what? It was okay. Because I hadn't danced in forever. And, even if I sucked, it felt damn good to try.

Fast forward a couple months. I was starting to get the hang of things so, when they asked for volunteers to perform at the Fall Fest variety show, I volunteered. The skinny instructor seemed shocked. Then relieved when I asked her if I could wear something underneath my costume. I didn't feel comfortable showing my oversized gut in public, natch. Then we had to figure out costuming. A feeling of dread crept over me...Oh God. They're not going to have anything that will fit me. I'll feel like a freak. And I won't be able to dance after all. And they'll all think I was crazy for wanting to. Oh God. I should just run away. But, of course, I didn't. And, surprises of surprises, they had clothing that fit me. Sort of. The skirt and hip scarf did. But the shirt would not properly secure my boobs, especially for all the hopping around that we had to do. Easily fixable, though, with proper undergarments. Oh shit. I can do this after all. But wait...I can keep my stomach covered. No has to see that. Okay.

So we practiced. And practiced. It was a tough dance...drum solo. Fast. No repeated movements. Move the music with your body, not the other way around. Very cool. So I practiced and practiced and practiced and after a while, stopped wearing baggy t-shirts. I realized that I couldn't see a thing with the t-shirt covering my stomach. And, dammit, I was working hard to nail those undulations and umis. So I made the decision to bare my stomach for the first time since I was a skinny little kid. Only my roommates and one boyfriend had every seen it. I hated my belly for a long time. Because of my massive hips, I have a roll right where my belly button is, so my stomach is cut in two. I have another roll higher on my back. They would all be on display for the world to see. Damn, this was gonna be hard.

And then...it wasn't. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the dressing room and into rehersal. And the other girls didn't laugh. They didn't make comments. I practiced for a more advanced student and she didn't make any derisive comments. And then I performed in the main show. So many people complimented us. So many people complimented me. Told me I was beautiful. Told me that the dance was amazing. I had forgotten the thrill of performance and suddenly had it thrown back to me.

A semester of thesis work forced me to abandon bellydance class. But, damn, that was fun. I'm moving to Seattle in 4 weeks. I know dance class will be one of the first things I look for. And I will proudly bare my jiggly belly for all to see and admire the way it can move.

Happy International No-Diet Day!

2008-05-06T06:30:00.000-07:00

Today, May 6th, is a day to celebrate your body being perfect as it is. Eat a cookie and don't feel bad about it. Run around outside or work out...but do it because you think it's fun, not because you're trying to lose weight. The official site is here.

According to the web site, today is a day to:

Celebrate the beauty and diversity of ALL our natural sizes & shapes
Affirm everyBODY's right to self-esteem, respect and emotional and physical well-being
Declare a personal one-day moratorium on diet/weight obsession
Learn the facts about weight-loss dieting, health, and body size
Recognize how dieting perpetuates violence against women
Honor the victims of eating disorders and weight-loss surgery
Help end weight discrimination, sizism and fatphobia

Or, be awesome like me, and study for finals.

Cleaning Up House

2008-05-04T13:39:00.000-07:00

I'm finishing up at a Boston school in two weeks and then moving to Seattle. Of course, this means getting rid of stuff that I don't need for my big cross-country move. It also means admitting to myself that I don't need that size 12 shirt because it never fit me right and even if I was a size 12, my shoulders are far too broad and I am far too busty.

It's harder than I thought it would be.

Before I went to college, I lost a lot of weight very quickly. About 40 lbs in 3 months. I did it by cutting out all simple carbohydrates and fatty foods from my diet. I ate lots of fake sugar which, as a chemist, slightly terrifies me. Of course, this was not sustainable. I could not eat pineapple because it has too much sugar. I love pineapple. So, of course, once I resumed normal eating habits, I went right back up to the weight I had been before. This means that a lot of my freshman year clothing no longer fits.

Intellectually, I know it makes no sense to keep this clothing. And I never wear it, because it looks bad. But I'm having a hard time getting rid of it. I've come a long way since freshman year and, color me nostalgic, but I kind of like the reminders of where I've come from. My clothing is a big part of that. But, at the same time, I'm aware of how destructive it can be to have those clothes as a reminder of the size I used to be. You see, I used to keep smaller clothes in hopes that I would eventually fit into them again. I don't have such aspirations anymore, but there's always that niggling voice that says "Oh, that's such a pretty sweater. And you, fat ass, can't fit in it anymore. You are a failure." I've been trying to squish that voice, but it's tough. Especially when the default gmail advertisements are for weight loss.

So, I guess this move is as good an excuse as any to rid myself of those triggers. Still, I can't bear to get rid of my gorgeous prom dress. Ah, well. Everything in stages.

Rejection

2008-04-24T12:52:00.000-07:00

Today, I reject patriarchal beauty standards.

I call out all the bullshit: "No fat chicks" t-shirts, Nutrasystem ads, people who tell me I have such a pretty face.

Yes, I do have a pretty face. Because I am pretty. I am a pretty fat girl and you will not pick out the pieces of me that are socially acceptable. That pretty face is attached to a head that contains a brain. This brain has solved research problems. This brain has designed knitting patterns and managed dinner parties for 35 people. This brain has slogged through a 4 year BA/MS degree in Chemistry and is coming back for more. And the head that contains that brain has beautiful, soft, wavy hair. Hair that has been 5 different shades of red. Hair that has been pulled back and put up and straightened and curled and played with by boyfriends as we cuddled and they told me I was beautiful. Because I am.

And that head is perched on a strong neck that may not be thin enough for you or long enough, but it does its job just fine and elegantly slopes into shoulders that know how to dance and how to open gas cylinders in a lab. And below the shoulders are arms and hands that play piano and write poetry and know how to give pleasure and how to cook and create clothing from a long string. And beyond the shoulders are two breasts that are not made of silicone. They are made of fat and skin and nerve endings and milk ducts and they are beautiful because they are all mine.

And then there is a belly. A belly that can roll like the sea. A belly that isn't afraid to stick out sometimes and say hello to the world. A belly with a crease across the middle with a big, soft belly button at the center. A belly that has grown and shrunk and grown again because it is strong. A belly that those boyfriends have lain on because it is soft and comfortable. And below the belly are hips that can shake the world. Hips that know how to dance. Hips that are made for bearing children. Hips that are the birthright of my Eastern European heritage. Hips that gracefully curve into strong thighs and calves. And these legs have walked all over the world. That support me, balance me while sitting or standing. They curve in just the right ways and fit snugly into tall boots: sexy ones, that lace up the back. And at the bottom of the legs are tiny, delicate feet. Feet that like to walk on soft surfaces, grass and big, furry, rugs. Feet that do not like to be constrained or forced into unnatural angles.

So you can take your airbrushed models, your campaigns that tell me all people are beautiful and that's why we need celulite cream. You can take your weight loss plans and fake sugar and eye makeup that stings. Because I want none of it. From now on, I define my own beauty. And if I want to dye my hair blue and walk barefoot in the sand, well, that's my perogative. And if I think I look fabulous at 221 lbs, well, that's my perogative too.

And you will not tell me that I'm killing myself.
And you will not tell me that I am wrong.
And you will not tell me that I am afraid of being beautiful because I'm afraid of men or sex or some other kind of bullshit.

I do not conform to your standards because I am afraid of being beautiful. I do not conform because I already am.