FOOD AS POLITICS

You are about to jump into a vulnerable and honest article about my life. If you somehow got to my blog because you knew me in high school or from church and saw the link on my facebook, but we don't actually speak in real life, I suppose I just ask you to not judge.

"Ya, I'm friends with Shelby on facebook and she is, like, a total fem-nazi who has an eating disorder now. Crazy huh?"

Ok, disclaimers out of the way, lets get to it. -----> This article basically summed up everything I have ever felt about food/children/parenting. It opens by saying that food is EVERYTHING.

"Food is never just food. Food is love. Food is solace. It is politics. It is religion."

When I read this article, I felt so relieved that someone knows how I feel (and I think that is the brilliance of the feminist blogging community--sometimes it can be just as much about ourselves and validating our own feelings as preaching the good word to others). Anyway, like a good majority of the women I know, I have a fucked up relationship with food/dieting/exercise, and I always thought, "What happens if I ever have a daughter? How will I teach her to love herself, when I can't even do it myself?" And not even "if I have a daughter," but the way we act rubs off on alllll the people around us. When I am around my friends, I am conflicted. I want to voice my insecurities and feel comfortable about it because I trust them and they can re-affirm me, and I want to be honest with people; but negative body speak for friends can really bring everyones good attitude about their bodies down. One piece from the article I particularly enjoyed was:

"By the time my own daughter was born, I realized that avoiding conversations about food, health and body image would be impossible: what I didn’t say would speak as loudly as anything I did. So rather than opt out, I decided to actively model something different, something saner. I’ve tried to forget all I once knew about calories, carbs, fat and protein; I haven’t stepped on a scale in seven years. At dinner I pointedly enjoy what I eat, whether it’s steamed broccoli or pecan pie. I don’t fetishize food or indulge in foodieism. I exercise because it feels good, and I never, ever talk about weight. Honestly? It feels entirely unnatural, this studied unconcern, and it forces me to be more vigilant than ever about what goes in and what comes out of my mouth. Maybe my daughter senses that, but this conscious antidiet is the best I can do."

I think I liked it so much, because I too engage in this "conscious anti-diet" where i try to not fetishize food, I don't own a scale, and it does feel completely unnatural. I appreciated the article for its openness and honesty, and admitting her own pitfalls, especially after expressing her concern that the "fatness" of your children was like a "good parent" litmus test. That final sentence breaks my heart "Maybe my daughter sense that, but this conscious antidiet is the best I can do."

That is the best I can do now too, and I KNOW I am not alone. But I don't want that to be the best I can do.
I can't pass this shit on to the next generation.