I’m thinking more about how my brain works and how it doesn’t. In my last post, I was talking about how this manifested when talking about my parents and how people were uncomfortable when I said they didn’t love me.
Side note: Yes, this early in the post! I am pretty sure I’m neuroatypical. Now. I never thought that about myself until talking about it with a friend six or seven months ago. Maybe more? Anyway, I knew I was a weirdo. I knew I didn’t think like other people did. I felt as if there was a manual on how to human that I had never gotten. It’s partly because of cultural issue, but it was also me feeling like I was broken. All the other kids would talk and laugh, seemingly knowing what each other was talking about. I had no clue, and no matter how much I studied the others, I did not gain a clue.
Side note two: My family was not at all immersed in American culture. I can’t remember a time we went to an American movie, for example. We did go to a fast food restaurant every Sunday after church, but that was probably a time thing. Best meal I had every week, too. Big Mac, fries, a diet pop, and a hot fudge sundae if it was McDonald’s. A chicken parm, fries, and a diet coke if it’s Burger King. Once in a while at Mickey D’s, I would have one of the ‘pies’ rather than the sundae, but not often. We went to Arby now and then, and it was meat and cheese. Very tasty, actually.
My mom was a health nut before it was a thing. We did not have sweets in the house, and she put me on my first diet when I was seven. Her goal was to get me married and having babies by the time I was wenty-five, and I wasn’t going to get it done if I was fat (in her eyes). My father is from farmer stock, and I have a mesomorph’s body. I am thick all the way around. Even when I was anorexic, I still had broad shoulders and thick thighs.
No matter how much I whittled away at my frame, I was never going to be a languid, slender, lissome person. And you know what? I don’t want to be. I like being strong. I like having muscles. I like feeling like I could beat the shit out of an attacker if I needed to. I have biceps that bulge as I practice my weapons forms. I have thighs and calves that could be used as tree trunks.
I love my body now. Plain and simple. I have my moments of insecurity (in fact, I’m in one now), but it’s more because of the intense societal pressuer to be thin. I do want to eat better, which includes cuoking, but let’s be real. I am not going to cook.