Day Nine

One of the best things about this No Sugar trial is telling my story to others.  I'm known in the office as somewhat of a candy hound (I made "The Rounds" on a daily basis to cubicles where I knew baked goods or chocolates were sure to live), so when I said No Thanks to offered Mummy Cupcakes or Spooky Cookies, it raised more than one set of eyebrows.

After their "Why not?" I launched into my explanation of no sugar for 30 days.  

Responses ranged from the "I could never do that!" to "You have way more willpower than I do!" to "Wow, good for you!" to "I did that too, it really changed everything for me!"

But there was one surprising universal addendum after they spoke the above iterations:  

"So, have you lost any weight?"  

I which I reply that I'm not in this to lose weight, but to get healthier and more attuned to what I choose to put in my body.  "Oh, I know I know," they counter, "but you're probably going to lose weight too."

This reaction unsettles me a bit.  As someone who has battled through the obligatory cliched college aged eating disorder drama, I try not to worry anymore about the number on the scale. I don't even own one.  I don't have a full length mirror, which I admit can lead to some interesting fashion choices, but serves to keep me grounded on not linking an image in a piece of glass to self worth.  I don't know what I weighed before I started this experiment, and I don't know what I weigh now.  If I do anything it revolves around pants and how tight they are or are not around my waist. 

I wasn't expecting people to automatically think that I based my decision on a desire to diet.  And while I wouldn't be sad if I woke up next week and my waistband was in fact a little looser, my reaction would be rooted in knowing I'm getting healthier, not lighter. 

I'm sure part of it is working in an office where the men are even more fixated on pounds than the women, though for reasons of power/weight ratio dominance and not size 0 jeans.  Even though I'm sure some of the guys I work with could fit into size 0 jeans.  In fact, I've seen it first hand. 

But it's still unsettling that it appears to be the "go to" endgame.  And it's telling of how pervasive the thinner equals better mindset truly is, even when housed in innocent, seemingly innocuous comments.  

What am I working up to?  What's the big build up?  I'm not sure.  Maybe it's the fact that I feel like my own nonchalance about whether or not I'm "dieting" in the fashion magazine sense of the word is a signal that I've finally, once and for all beaten that old, cliched eating demon that I don't think ever truly started going away until I climbed on a bike.  

When people ask "Have you lost any weight?" I say "I don't know."  

What I leave off is the most important part:  I don't care.