Zero Is Not A Size

So I have been watching my weight lately. And by watching I mean, I’ve counted every calorie that has entered my mouth this week. I guess it started when I realised that I would have to go to my friends engagement party this Friday night. I’ve never really been over weight, never going higher than a size 12 but neither have I ever been anything less than a size 10. But I had to buy a dress. In a size 14.

Its just a number really, and it does depend on what material is used, how the dress is cut, what style it is. But to me it was a 14. And I’ve never consciously watched what I’ve eaten before. I’ve always been aware of the foods I’ve eaten. Working at McDonalds for 5 years and eating one 5 days a week for the duration of that has often left me wondering what my insides must look like.

But I never gained weight there before. You were on your feet for 8 hours a day, running back and forth. Now I’m at college. I sit on my arse in front of a PC 6 hours a day. Physically, not the most taxing thing I’ve ever done. And suddenly I notcied the way my jeans seemed to be hugging my thighs just a little bit tighter. Was that fat under my arm always there? Since when did I feel tired after speed walking for 20 minutes.

So I began to surf the internet looking for diet tips. Something that would make this transition easier - although denial of something is never easy.

And thats when I discovered several girls best friends in the wieght loss process. Ana and Mia. Or better known as Anorexia and Bulimia.

I came across a sort of under ground diet cult that encouraged each other to starve themselves. Literally. Girls were sharing tips with each other on how to successfully go a whole week without eating food (apparently lots of water and sugar free gum did the trick). And they shared phone numbers with each other. In the same way alcoholics have a sponsor encase they felt themselves slipping, they would call each other and encourage themselves to get past the “weakness” of eating.

They idolised people like Demi Lovato, who so successfully kept their illness in the darkness for so many years, even when she was in the public eye so visibly as only a Disney star can be marketed.

But when said teen idol cracked and sought treatment she was turned on, being called weak and fat. I don’t know about you but all I see is a perfectly healthy girl here:

Compared to an image of a “perfect” model here:

I’m well aware of which of the two I’d rather look like.

So yes, I am watching my weight - but theres a line. And to some people, they need to realise that the line fall between healthy and a disorder. Or at least you would hope that someone in society would tell them.