What strikes me now is fear. I never felt ‘thin’, I always felt like a fat person in recovery. I was afraid that one meal, one week, one month would cause all the weight to come back on. That’s why the new job was a godsend.
As a poster model and role model for the diet brand that must not be named, I would have to hold myself to a higher standard. I had no choice but to stop emotional eating, binge eating, unhealthy family gatherings, and temptations; It would certainly remain my ‘target weight’ forever. Or so I thought.
I loved my job, or at least, I loved being on the front lines with people. Having learned about force-based practice and Socratic questioning in college, I put it into practice with my members. I loved it, and so did my members.
I focused on each person’s unique personality, lifestyle, and accomplishments. They were the experts on their own lives and held the key to success. As the numbers fell, their smiles grew brighter and brighter. But something bit me.
The stress and self-hatred of diet culture hit me hard. On one hand, we increased the benefits of mindfulness, body acceptance, and overall well-being, but underneath the gloss we were just like any other diet—it all came down to weight.
On multiple occasions, he would chat online with the members while having chocolate. She couldn’t handle the dichotomy of it all. When I mentioned it to my boss, she said, “No one else has a problem with that.” And so, it was a ‘me’ problem, and I was alone.
Image: Supplied.
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