Tag Archives: Weight

I Eat A Lot – So What?

My aunt came over on Saturday and made a comment about my weight, saying I was skinny. My mother immediately countered with “Are you crazy? Melissa’s not skinny.” I’m not? I don’t think I’m skinny-skinny but I always assumed I was, I don’t know, average-skinny. I asked my boyfriend if he thought I was skinny later on and his exact words were, “Well, you gained weight.” WHAT? Take note, boyfriends everywhere, that is not an acceptable answer. Something satisfactory would would have been, “You’ve never looked better.” I don’t care if you feel we’re at the stage in our relationship where we can be truly honest with each other – we’re not and we never will be. That stage doesn’t exist. Sometimes you have to lie (or at least sugarcoat things or change subjects). You cannot poke fun at things we have genuine issues with, especially if you plan on getting laid ever again. I’m actually pretty comfortable with my weight, but I don’t need you to tell me if I gained any. Did you ever think that maybe I REALIZE I GAINED WEIGHT? That maybe I ONLY HAVE ONE PAIR OF JEANS THAT FITS? That maybe YOU’RE BEING ANNOYING?

I guess I let his answer get to me because I woke up thinking about my flab this morning. Again, I don’t think I’m fat and I’m generally quite happy with how I look, but I make some bad food-related choices. I eat chips and chocolate together (I like the saltiness and the sweetness) as a snack, I’ve had curly fries for breakfast and I honestly love McDonald’s. I’m disgusting. Just yesterday I went to that rice pudding place near Concordia (aka heaven) and I had $12 worth of rice pudding. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot but think about it. Have you any idea how much rice pudding you can get for $12? A LOT. And although my stomach hurt quite a bit after, I didn’t even feel guilty that I ate so much. I felt guilty that I spent $12. I really needed at $12.

Maybe it’s time for me to become health-conscious before I bust out of yet another pair of jeans. Maybe I’ll do yoga. Maybe I’ll work out. Or maybe everyone will just have to accept me for the gross person that I am (let me live my life!).


(Edit: I think this post made me sound a teensy bit worse than I actually am. It’s not like I eat junk food all the time. And I may not go to the gym, but I walk just about everywhere. How can I describe my eating habits? Well, put it this way – some people turn to recreational drug use as a release from their daily responsibilities; I turn to pizza parties.)


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Skinny Model Fired For Being Too Fat

Filippa Hamilton, 23, had been a Ralph Lauren model for nearly eight years. She’s 5’10” and weighs 120 lbs. She says that her weight never fluctuated during the entire time she worked for Ralph Lauren, but that she was nonetheless fired for being too fat. Of course, the company disputes that, stating she was fired for not fulfilling her contract’s obligations. Nice completely vague reasoning, RL.

hamiltonIf Hamilton’s name sounds familiar, it’s because she was in the news recently for having been photoshopped to look grotesquely thin. Ralph Lauren took responsibility for that one, issuing an apology statement that read something like, “Too skinny? Oopsies.”

Hamilton’s response to her termination was, “I think they owe American women an apology, a big apology; I’m very proud of what I look like, and I think a role model should look healthy.”

Wait, what?

While I think it’s great that she called Ralph Lauren out, she’s not really a role model, nor does she look particularly healthy. With a BMI of 17.2, girl is actually underweight.

Don’t get me wrong, I think Hamilton is gorgeous. Her eyebrows are killer. She kind of looks like those McGill hipster girls I look nothing like and am totally jealous of. But to liken her body type to a role model’s, and to therefore imply that it’s healthiest, is just sort of insane to me.

Keep in mind that the average North American woman is 5’3.8″ and weighs around 163 lbs.

Having a little meat on your bones is hot, and it sucks to hear both a big ass clothing company and a model imply otherwise. I’m sick of this.

Still, good on her for calling out her bullshit employer when others might not have. I guess it’s a tiny step in the right direction.




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Adventures In Birth Control Land

birthcI’ve been on the pill for two years and a few months. I originally got on it because I don’t want babies and hate condoms. If you’re in a committed relationship and both you and your partner have been tested, I would definitely recommend taking the pill as your preferred method of birth control. Wait, would I? Hmm. Let’s see here.

The pill is really good at one thing, and that’s not getting you pregnant. Other than that, it kind of sucks. A lot. The list of awful side effects is long, but here are the most common:

It makes you fat
The first thing I noticed was how much my boobs grew. This happened after a mere few days. I know that sounds awesome but they were all swollen and tender. It hurt when I put a bra on. Eventually, the pain went away and an unpleasant situation became an unexpected bonus. I realize how lucky I was, though. Some girls gain a lot more than just a little boobage. I read one lady’s story online about how one of her feet go so swollen that it busted a strap on her shoe! That sucks. And all that extra weight is a bitch to lose.

It kills your libido
This actually happened to most girls I know who’ve gotten on the pill, so beware. Your libido could potentially go from raging (Spring break in Cancun-style) to inexistent (nun in a convent-style). I felt my sex drive dwindling so I tried switching to a pill with a different hormone level, but the problem persisted. I kind of just live with it now. It’s ironic that I got on the pill in hopes of having more sex.

It doesn’t cure your cramps
When I was a teen, my doctor advised me to start taking the pill. I wasn’t even sexually active yet, but he claimed that an oral contraceptive would ease my horrible menstrual pain. Turns out that was a load of bullshit. Know what helps my cramps? Three Advils, a cup of tea and the fetal position. Not the pill.

It gives you insane mood swings
I have literally gone from laughing to crying my eyes out in less than a second. I cry when I eat the last Sausalito cookie in the bag, I cry when I watch Destiny’s Child videos and I hold tears back when I see adorable puppies. I’ve snapped at my mother for buying cheap toilet paper, when, at 24, I should be ecstatic she even buys me TP in the first place.

You’ll forget to take it
For the pill to be its most effective, you’re supposed to take it at the same time every day. Well, that’s almost impossible. One time, I forgot to take one. I googled it and found a website that said I should take two at once, to compensate for the one I missed. So I did that. A few hours later, areas that are usually dry began sweating uncontrollably and I had to fight a wave of severe nausea that kept trying to come over me. That was last New Year’s Eve. Needless to say, I didn’t have the best time. Thanks a lot, Internet.

Of course, I’m speaking from personal experience. You might not feel any of these side effects. You might be one of the lucky ones (I hate you). It’s gotten to the point where I kind of want to get off the topsy turvy roller coaster the pill has put me on, but I can’t bring myself to. It’s worked itself into my daily routine, but more importantly, I’ve never so much as had a slight pregnancy scare while on it. So I guess I’ll tough it out. For now, anyway.



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Menstruation + Weight Gain = Depression

I am an emotional wreck this week. During lunch today, my boyfriend asked me why I love Costco so much and tears starting pouring out of my eyes. All I could mutter was, “Why do you make fun of me all the time?” Pathetic, I know. I am obviously riding the emotional roller coaster of menstruation. Nevertheless, I’m particularly depressed and sad this period.  I never tLizzi Millerhought a trip to the pet store would send me over the edge, but boy was I wrong. Yesterday, the BF and I brought our dog to Mondou to pick up a few bones. There was a huge scale on the floor next to the cash. I tried to get my jerk dog to climb onto the scale so we could weigh him. Of course, he wasn’t cooperating so I forcefully picked him up and put him on it. Big mistake. As I climbed on, I saw the numbers on the scale sky rocket. I dropped my dog and stood on the scale until the numbers stopped. My stomach turned, my eyes swelled up and I had a lump in my throat. In about four years, I gained 30 lbs! What the fuck?

This is hard for me, but I’m ready to tell the world right now how much I weigh. Well, I’m not exactly ready, but I’ll do it anyway. It needs to be done. I always lied about my weight and said I don’t know what it is or I ball-parked it, but now I know for sure. I weigh 178.6 lbs and it’s the most I’ve ever weighed.

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Scales Are Bastards

I am not one to complain about my weight. In fact, I don’t even think I’m allowed to complain about my weight because bigger girls automatically blow me off. Listen, bigger girls, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one is completely happy with their weight (except maybe guys). We’re all too bony or too fat or too misproportioned or too bow-legged or too small-titted or too whatever the hell else. 

I was luckily among the very few who managed to escape the society-spewed weight myths that bombard women daily. I never thought my body was perfect, but I was happily indifferent. I’ve never been to the gym. I’ve never even been on a diet. 

Still, I had problems with my weight, and I don’t mean the psychological kind. I became really thin at one point. I hadn’t done anything to provoke the weight loss. It just happened. When I looked in the mirror after showering, I was grossed out by the sight of my protruding ribs. I wasn’t ecstatic with how I looked, but I didn’t do anything to change it. Strangely, I accepted it.

A year later, my stomach worms or whatever caused my boniness subsided, and I looked normal again. I had curves and boobs and a non Skeletor-like face and I was happy.

That was a few years ago. I honestly don’t feel like I’ve gained any weight since then. I was under the impression that it had stabilized.

Well, my mom just came back from Toronto with a brand spankin’ new scale. I can’t remember the last time I weighed myself; it must have been around ten years ago. She asked me to try it out. I said, “No, go away” but she begged me. I gave in.

The scale said 130. 

That might not mean shit to anyone but it for some reason broke my spirit. I’m suddenly sad. Maybe society did get to me. Should I finally go on a diet? Should I Google thinspiration pictures? Should I “work out”? 

Of course, I will do none of these things. I am eating a pogo as I type this. Still, what I’m trying to say is that scales skew the way you view yourself. Our self worth should not be affected by the results on these damn contraptions; beauty isn’t determined by numbers. I feel at least ten pounds lighter than that thing said I am. I refuse to be bullied.



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